#in mobile tags lol

[ink-the-artist]

Video game I saw in a dream. It was in this low poly style like an older video game. You play as this character I think was meant to be a lamb, or maybe a weird mix of a lamb a mouse and a rabbit, (while not really looking like any of those things) and you’re running away from a wolf. Your objective is to last as long as possible before the wolf catches and eats you.

The house you’re running in is endless and bizarrely put together like most building interiors in dreams are (like the infinite toilet dream dimension on Reddit lol) the layout of the house is pretty detailed, you can stop and hide in places like closets or bins while the wolf looks for you, you can go up and down stairs and into rooms etc.

You never actually know where the wolf is or how close it is to you until it appears in your line of sight, it makes no noise and the game gives you no way of knowing where it is, and it’s pretty unpredictable it doesnt move at a consistent pace. When the wolf catches you there’s an animation showing it eating your character

[syladelphia]

it’s fibromyalgia awareness month so I just wanted to say a lil somethin’

ig post here (includes full caption)

[theredviper]

DAVE JONES as HALSIN SILVERBOUGH

— Baldur's Gate 3 (2023), Larian Studios

+ BONUS:

[tea-time221]

woe, shitpost be upon thee

this all started with the ibruprofen drawing and it suddenly divulged into drawing them as ponies. its good warm-up i wont lie

i cant find the post but shoutout to that one artist that made a whole pony au for all the bg3 companions. truly doing god's work out there.

[callsign-rogueone]

that time of the month

fourth wing boys (Aaric, Brennan, Bodhi, Dain, Garrick, Liam, Ridoc, Sawyer, Xaden) x reader

how our favorite boys would take care of you when you’re on your period [request]

words: 588

🏷: no book spoilers. gender neutral, no pronouns used. mentions of periods, cramps,, etc. soft and fluffy. these are kinda short bc it was hard to not make them repetitive — I think they all give excellent care + cuddles 🥰

Aaric is a quiet support kind of guy to me. he’ll be by your side, but not overbearing or too touchy. really good at playing with your hair and massaging the back of your neck if you get migraines (like I do) he also sleeps flat on his back and perfectly still like a total weirdo, so he’s great to use as a body pillow.

Brennan is the number one man for the job, and I’m not just saying this because he’s my favorite. he’s a mender, so he can literally stop your pain, and he can get stains out of clothes super easily. also just a very nurturing and gentle person, takes excellent care of you all week.

Bodhi is going to use this as an excuse to cuddle you and take naps all week (I love how the Bodhi girls have collectively decided that he’s just a lil cuddlebug 🥺). expect lots of murmured words of affirmation about how strong you are and how much he loves you.

Dain, the overgrown boyscout he is (I say this affectionately) is prepared. he knows when that time is coming up, and he is properly equipped to take care of you. has everything you need in both his room and yours. also gives a 10/10 back massage (canon, actually.)

Garrick insists that you spend the week in his room, because his bed is more comfortable (it honestly is) and that way he can take care of you. he’s very nice to cuddle up with. lets you sleep in his clothes, too, for maximum comfort. has a secret stash of all your favorite snacks, too — he’s been getting them from the fliers. don’t tell Xaden. (Xaden totally knows, and is also getting snacks from them.)

Liam makes sure you’re eating even if you have no appetite, and that you’re staying hydrated, etc. you might grumble about it, but absolutely nobody can say no to that face. he knows not to take it personally if you get mad at him, because you’re hormonal + in pain. gives fabulous cuddles, too, and lots of sweet words.

Ridoc knows not to make any jokes at your expense or fuck with you when you’re feeling fragile, instead showering you with cheesy verbal affection to get the grumpiness out of your system and get you feeling a little better — as much as you can, when you feel like your insides are being ripped out. uses his hands like ice packs for you, holding them on any place that’s particularly achy.

Sawyer was a little awkward about it at first, but now he’s a seasoned boyfriend who knows what you need and does it without you needing to ask; snacks, cuddles, back rubs, so on and so forth. helps you with whatever’s particularly difficult this week. ties your shoes for you so you don’t have to bend down and strain your back, etc.

Xaden can sense that you’re in pain, and the minute he’s able to, he’s scooping you up and whisking you away to rest in his arms. abuses his wingleader privledges a little bit, letting you have the worst day(s) off. don’t bother trying to lie to him and say that you’re fine — he knows you aren’t. don’t question the sudden change in his normal tough-guy persona either; just enjoy it.

++ none of these men are at all scared or grossed out by a little blood. they’re men, not boys, and they’re used to it anyway, going to this deathtrap of a school.

[carltonlassie]

Monk S04E05 | Mr. Monk Gets Drunk

[hyunjinz]

221129 MAMA red carpet - LEE KNOW

[14dayswithyou]

I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN ABOUT REN'S BIRTHDAY!!! I PROMISE!!!!! There's been a lot of rain recently n half of my house is flooded now lol

[lambergeier]

all your ducks in a row – 7k, phoenix/miles, a prequel to the pacific rim au

it's done :) first two scenes below

After waiting ten minutes in Ema’s lab sans Ema, Miles makes an extremely flashy show of checking his watch.

“Who are you doing that for?” Phoenix asks him. “I bought you that watch, you think I don’t know how expensive your watch is?”

Miles growls at him, brings the watch a few inches closer to his face (not a show, Phoenix took most of their nearsight for an earlier briefing and has yet to give it back), then shakes his sleeve back over his wrist. “She’s late.”

“You know how I knew that? I don’t have a watch, it’s sad, but there is a clock on the wall that—”

“Oh, shut up,” Miles says, and buffets Phoenix with an old memory, rubbed near to loving smoothness, of: Phoenix Wright, newest technician at the Los Angeles Shatterdome. Big wounded eyes, crisply-starched uniform, the way he’d tottered to attention like a baby flamingo every time Miles Edgeworth passed him in the hall, like if Miles would just spare a look for the razor-thin crease in Phoenix’s slacks he might drop to his knees right then and there and—

“Alright, alright!” Phoenix laughs, waving a hand between them as if Miles’ love is a cloud that might ever be dispelled. “You can have your little vanities.”

“Thank you,” Miles sniffs, prim, and smiles as Phoenix does. “She is late, though.”

“Yeah, yeah. One more minute and then we’ll give her a call.” It’s well into evening but loud in the Dome, the thumping boots of night shift filling the halls as swing shift stumbles past them to their beds. Miles wants them out of here, quickly. He’s doing his best to keep his impatience to himself but the little hooks of it snag at Phoenix, too. When Phoenix reaches into the space between them, the aura of Miles’ incoming migraine haloes his vision. “She’s almost here,” he says to Miles.

“And how could you possibly know that,” Miles replies with an unbecoming roll of his eyes at the exact moment Ema throws herself into the room.

“Sorry, sirs!” she yells, stack of papers clutched to her chest, and Miles doesn’t acknowledge Phoenix’s smirk as they make their greetings and all sit down except that he’s forced to, intrinsically, because he melted his neurology to Phoenix’s in a massive industrial accident. Sucker.

“Okay,” Ema says, leaning over her spread of papers like a dealer trying to remember which color chip is the 50. “So I finally got my guy on the phone.”

There’s a little sparkler of panic from Miles, who can’t get the memory in time. Phoenix provides: her guy is an academic and neuro specialist that Meraktis reluctantly put Ema in touch with before his retirement. Well, “retirement.” His wife and two of his three children died trying to escape the city during the last attack and he’s leaving California while he still has a family left. Maybe better to just keep calling it a retirement.

“He thinks it might work,” Ema says.

Miles leans forward, whole sordid body alert. “He does.”

Phoenix says, “Keep talking.”

When Miles and Phoenix’s tangled health began, a few years after Ratel Cerulean, to stabilize, the good Dr. Meraktis had told them to consider themselves unbelievably, inconceivably lucky. Symptoms that were bad in a predictable way were a gift from god compared to the alternative. When they knew all of Miles’ migraine triggers, and all the weather patterns that would make the screws in Phoenix’s spine sing like malevolent tuning forks, and it had been years since they’d last had a seizure of even the little baby kind—that was a real life. They could live like that. Miles had been intensely grateful, as had Phoenix. He’d never say he wasn’t. But Ema, then Meraktis’ spunky neurology sidekick, had thought there might be more they could still try, and Meraktis had called her ideas ridiculous, but Phoenix had heard her out. Their problems were the making of a drift gone wrong. Could they be further resolved by a drift gone right?

It took years to get Miles on board. Until Meraktis fled the coast and couldn’t stop Ema from making her pitches anymore. Miles still isn’t totally on board—as he listens to Ema describe imaging results and hypothetical neural bridges, his fear is a bright and chattering flame.

Phoenix imagines the sensation of his hand on the back of Miles’ head, pushing his fingers through Miles’ hair. He remembers the feeling, many years familiar, of the stubbly back of Miles’ neck rubbed beneath the pressure of his thumb. In the seat beside him, Miles’s hands slowly release their white-knuckle grip on the arms of his chair. “So all we would need to do,” Miles says, as Ema’s explanation slows for breath, “is start a new drift?”

“I think so,” Ema says. “It could work. There’s no guarantee, there’s no, like, precedent for what’s going on with you guys but—I think so.” She shuffles her papers across her desk with a nervous hand. “I think so.”

She’s not selling this so well, certainly not enough for Miles’ flagging confidence. That’s fine. Miles doesn’t need to be sure of it. Phoenix is, enough for them both. This will work. This will help them. This will be okay. He cups Miles’ faith in the palms of his hands.

“Alright,” Miles says. “Let’s try it.”

---

Miles’ tentative optimism doesn’t withstand the rest of their working day, which includes a review of the Jumphawk’s latest no-light maneuvers, a call to Brussels, a call to his sister (way more harrowing than the EU), and a final visit to Angel, who hates them, just before the clock flips to 2:00 AM. It’s bad for both of them—Miles who was up at six yesterday morning and Phoenix who will be up again at six this coming morning. If Miles hadn’t begun to spiral as they trudged towards their mockery of a bedtime, Phoenix might have actually started to worry.

“We are—we’re delusional for even considering this,” Miles says, pacing their awful fucking rooms with his arms locked right behind his back. He’s going to pull something in his shoulder. They should really let the janitorial staff dust in here more often. “Frankly,” Miles says, “we should court-martial ourselves and hand control of the dome to Franziska now, for even thinking of this.”

“Sure, baby,” Phoenix says. His forearm lays heavy over his eyes. He tracks Miles’ movements by other means. “We both know how much you love handing your sister control of things.”

He remembers, before Miles can stop him, the “surprise” “party” Franziska has organized for Miles, the one time they’d visited Sydney before Miles became Marshall. It had been a poor surprise and an even worse party. When Franziska had mistaken Flight Commander Wright for a member of her own terrified support staff and ordered him to fetch more non-alcoholic wine spritzers, Phoenix had experienced nothing except relief.

“You weren’t wearing your uniform,” Miles muttered, face heating sharply. “How was she supposed to recognize you?”

She wouldn’t have even perceived the uniform. Phoenix could have been wearing a trophy from all three of his and Miles’ kills-to-date and she still would have told Phoenix to go get more toothpicks for the cocktail weiners which no one was enjoying and everyone was avoiding.

“Back to my original point,” Miles growls, before Phoenix can really get started on remembering the taste of the weiners (bad).

He sighs. “And what was that, baby?”

“Phoenix. We haven’t tried to drift in years. To just throw ourselves at it like this, with no practice, with no time to think—”

“We’re currently drifting. We’re drifting right now. What other practice do we need?”

Miles turns in his pacing at the edge of the bed, his inner ear off tonight, the pivot too deep for comfort. “This isn’t a game. This is dangerous. What—if something goes wrong, after what it did to you last time—”

“To us,” Phoenix says.

It’s Miles’ memories that sweep them this time, strong as the breakers. Phoenix as he’d hung from the harness in Ratel’s burning, electrified cockpit. A corpse, a scarecrow, a bare-ribbed carcass awaiting the butcher, etc. etc. Phoenix wasn't really there. Phoenix remembers very little of the four hours it took their rescuers to cut into Ratel Cerulean, hesitant as they were to set off her distempered nuclear heart. He remembers pain and Miles screaming. Howling. He’d been informed afterwards, by surgeons and Miles’ fear, how bad it had been. Miles remembers, far beyond his own pain, the burning smell of Phoenix’s skin and the blood emerging in fat slugs from the seams of Phoenix’s suit. Miles’ mind had been peeling open like fruit beneath a knife. He’d been so sure, for days after, until Phoenix woke up and could be examined himself, that Phoenix’s eye had been gone. He was sure he’d seen it sluicing away.

Phoenix, in bed, rubs a hand over his eye, calluses catching on the scar. It was just the scar. His eye was fine. The eye had been fine. “You didn’t do that to me,” Phoenix says. “Don’t apologize for that.”

Miles had been commanding officer.

“C’mon,” Phoenix murmurs.

Miles slides away from him, slipping the noose of Phoenix’s grace. That’s not his word—Phoenix would never call it grace. Miles, half the room away, says, “It’s dangerous. It’s—beyond that. God knows what we’d risk. How many people in the Dome’s medical staff are even aware of our neurology?” He hates calling it a drift. “What happens when something goes wrong and they have no idea what they’re looking at?”

“911’s still operational, right?”

“Phoenix, take this seriously!”

“Miles, it’ll be okay.” Miles doesn’t believe him. Phoenix says it again. “We’ve been over this a million times. We’re not out fighting a kaiju this time. We’re not even leaving the shop floor. We’ll be in the dome, with Ema, with her two guys that know the stuff, with like one Jaeger tech, and no one else around. Nobody’s going to find out about our drift and nobody else will need to find out, because it’ll be fine. It’s just a drift test. It’s going to work. We’ll be fine.”

He’s still so afraid. He’s only admitted to like half of the things he’s terrified of. He starts to pace, stops again. Here comes another big slice of the pie: “What about Trucy?” Miles asks.

“She won’t even be here,” Phoenix says. “Maya’s picking her up tomorrow. You know that.”

Miles hates that, too, though he won’t fully articulate why and doesn’t appreciate Phoenix picking at that lack of articulation, thank you. Trucy distant, Trucy away—Miles’ fists tighten bloodlessly into themselves.

“What, you’d prefer she stick around?” Phoenix asks. That Trucy would give them a week of subtle teenage hell for canceling her girls’ Kurain weekend is too obvious to need saying. “You’d want her to see if anything goes wrong?”

“So you admit something might go wrong!”

Phoenix groans and laughs and finally lets his arm fall from his eyes. Their junky old room is dim and hazy, pressure-spotted a sickly green. Miles watches him from just out of arms’ reach. He looks just miserable.

“You really should have been some big, hot-shot lawyer, you know that?” Phoenix says. “Always putting me on trial.”

He holds out his hand. “C’mere,” he says.

Slowly, Miles takes it. Phoenix pulls him into their bed. He helps Miles kick his shoes off, nudging them off of the sheets. He sets Miles’ watch on the table beside their bed.

Miles, voiceless, traces the dark flat scars of the burns on Phoenix’s neck. His fingertips shake.

It must be nearly 3:00 AM. “S okay,” Phoenix says. “You didn’t do that to me. It’s going to work.”

Miles wants so badly to believe him. Miles wants, with a desperation he loathes, to catch just a handful of the thing that makes Phoenix so sure.

Neither of them will get to sleep like this. “C’mere,” Phoenix says again, taking Miles’ hands in his own.

He pictures the snow. Mt. Shasta, when he was young, maybe eight. He remembers sitting in the formless powder. He’d been warm. The sun had been just above the trees. No cold drips down his gloves yet, no slush in his boots. The sky had been blue and entire. The world was in concert hushed. Snow had moved with the ease of air between his fingers.

Miles is beside him. He draws Miles’ hand into the snow, making a many-fingered shape with his own. He shows Miles how to sit deeper in the powder, to let it form around you in a smooth bowl. He breathes and Miles breathes with him, exhalations rocketing from their mouths.

read the rest on ao3 👍👍👍

[dreamingalto]

I was slightly bored and couldn't decide on what to do... and then I remembered the Hunger Games Simulator existed.

And I have been watching too much Dan and Phil lately...

One thing lead to another and I eventually ended up with the following:

The Phangry Games

Naming logic went something like this: Hunger to Hungry. Gotta insert the infamous Ph at the beginning. Phangry.

Also yes Pastel Phil is accidentally named Punk Phil I didn't notice the mistake until after I began.

And it turned out 1000% more entertaining than I ever thought it could be.

So right off the bat, we have BIG Dan and Craftie Dan planning their fishing trip while Hiatus Dan is staying in character and fucking right off.

Then a couple of them are fighting for bags but the bloodbath is staying pretty safe right now.

In fact, there is only 1 death during the bloodbath.

Thought that meant that Day 1 was going to be a slow start but I SPOKE WAY TOO SOON! First, one of the craftie boys bites the dust to an infection of all things. Apparently HE doesn't provide medical care for infections.

Interactive Introverts Phil also tried to get rid of the current Phil but he managed to escape. So really, no harm no foul.

Then the Acid Rain started and DAMN DAN AND PHIL (spoiler: especially Dan) CAN NOT SURVIVE ACID RAIN VERY WELL AT ALL!

The day ended with only 11 survivors. 7 Phils and 4 Dans. PINOFs, Punks, Crafties, and WAD Era have all been completely eliminated!

At this point, I decide I am rooting for the 2009 boys, Sister Daniel, or COTY and Revival (AKA the Current/2024) Phil. But I was also just immensely amused at how quickly the simulator popped off this time.

The first night was pretty quiet with no deaths or anything occuring. Some of the Phils snuggled up together while Revival Phil snuggled up with 2009 Dan.

Then almost immediately on Day 2, a group with both the 2009 Boys, COTY Phil, and Sister Daniel actually raid Revival Phil's camp. So 10/10 on the betrayal there 2009 Dan.

It stays quiet the rest of day 2. AND INTERESTINGLY ENOUGH ON NIGHT 2!

Phil STOP TRUSTING 2009 DAN HE LITERALLY HELPED RAID YOUR CAMP EARLIER!

But besides the whole trust and betrayal plot with those two, we have both of the hiatus boys deciding that it was time to start the hiatus for everyone else.

Hiatus Phil going for the more strategic kill as Pastel Phil is only Phil who has a kill up to this point.

Day 3 brings the feast. And just like BIG Dan tripped and died during the acid rain...

Coming out of the closet apparently involved tripping out of the closet.

The feast also included the continuation of the Hiatus Boys kill streak with them getting rid of half of the remaining Dans.

I really apperciate Hiatus Dan's commitment to lore accuracy.

This left only 6 tributes for the rest of Day 3.

Which turned to the final five tributes almost immediately with 2009 Phil finishing off the TATINOF era team.

All that is left in the Final Five is the 2009 Boys, the Hiatus Boys, and Revival Phil.

Night 3 is pretty quiet. But Day 4 ends up leveling the playing field with Hiatus Phil accidentally eating toxic berries.

Nothing in particular happens on Night 4 EXCEPT for the fact that 2009 Dan is now snuggling up with Hiatus Dan.

AND WITH A TASTE OF HIS OWN BETRAYAL MEDICINE FROM THE BEGINNING OF THE GAME, Hiatus Dan tries but fails to eliminate 2009 Dan in the morning of Day 5.

After the failed attempt to eliminate 2009 Dan, Night 5 is actually pretty quiet. But on Day 6, Hiatus Dan sets his sights on the 2009 team again.

This brought us to the final three. 2009 Dan and Revival Phil, who both have no kills so far. And Hiatus Dan, who has brought a hiatus to at least three other Dans/Phils.

I don't have that much faith in either 2009 Dan or Revival Phil, but anything can happen in this simulator.

And on Night 6:

Revival Phil, in a bit of an ironic twist of following lore accuracy, put an end to Hiatus Dan while 2009 Dan actually ended up on fire.

No I am not sorry for that last sentence.

THIS MAKES PHIL THE WINNER OF THE ENTIRE PHANGRY GAMES!

The simulation turned out a lot more dramatic than I have experienced in the past (with the whole underlying Trust/Betrayal Plotline that ended up emerging with the final three) and was so funny to go through.

Here is a link to the simulator in case this post reminded you this simulator existed and you wanted to try it for yourself.

(The above link should load up the DnP Season as shown in the first image but it might not work after around three months due to the websites saving policy)

[b4kuch1n]

hahaha wheee haha

[snowthedemonfox]

well, you found him!

anyway portal prototype is NOT what i expected on this april fools day, but i sure as hell aint complaining. i love portal

i added a heap to the design for funsies so under the cut is a front view of that :3 + the original which i found a decent screenshot on the wiki

i didnt wanna just put a potato on their face so i made some adjustments to still reference potato glados lol

[ebonytails]

Some stickers i drew a few days ago :-]c

(theyre also available on redbubble 👀 - 1 & 2)

[fellhellion]

feeling absolutely deranged about the o’hara brothers on this good eve </3

[edenfire]

🌟💗 ¿por qué no los dos? 💗🌟

why pit them against each other, when they could be the ultimate throuple instead?😌💘💞

[gothprentiss]

myka & helena + meeting at gunpoint