#me: i will stab you

[midnight-coffee94]

No single line has ever wrecked me as hard as this one from the Good Place and I think about it constantly

[obsessive-bear-walking]

[sleeeepy-demon]

doctors hate her its part 9 of horrible bg3 memes i drew on paint

part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

[brainrotcharacters]

makes me giggle to think of X2 Logan meeting dp&w Logan when this is a thing

[meanbossart]

I was looking through my screenshots after something, and I remembered that the funniest thing about playing as a large-body tav is how Astarion's boisterous little chin-up animations adapt to your height so that he is constantly about to break his neck trying to "look down" on you.

Ok squirt.

[bookalicent]

yeah so this was insane

[20dimensionsoftangerine]

Adaine, soaking in her own blood, Roma Childa and Nara as the only backup, rolling up to a group that famously kidnapped her and tortured Aelwyn: Yo, I'm on strike. Pay me or leave me alone.

[miaiminnis]

🐍❄️

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

More random Nimona headcanons

Bal is one of those people who isn’t allergic to anything except one random medication that no one uses 

Ambrosius calls him a lucky bastard every time it’s brought up because he’s allergic to everything 

His allergy list is at least three pages long and he doesn’t remember a single thing on that list 

Whenever they go out to eat Bal has to remind him “No you can’t eat that it has olives” “Not that either love it’s got lemon” and so on 

Most of his allergic reactions are pretty tame so he’ll eat it anyway

And it gives Bal and Nimona so much fucking anxiety 

One time Bal walked in on Nimona chasing Ambrosius around the kitchen yelling “Spit out the carrots Nemesis you don’t even like them that much!!” 

Whenever he eats alone he refers to it as a game of Russian roulette 

Bal refers to it as the reason he has high blood pressure

Because Bal and Ambrosius grew up in the limelight (for very different reasons) there are a million pictures of them through the years 

And they use those videos to bully the hell out of each other 

Bal can quote the video from the beginning of the movie not because it was an important moment in his childhood 

But because Ambrosius will quote it at the most random times throughout the day

Bal will do something small like kill a bug or chase out an animal that Nimona brought in

And he’ll hear Ambrosius mumble “I’m here to slay monsters and protect our kingdom”

He was a little worried Nimona would react badly to this habit but he started joining in 

One time he killed a spider and Ambrosius asks “Are you slaying monsters moonbeam?” Nimona yells from the other room “I’m so proud of him he’s truly protecting our kingdom” 

There are a million photos of baby Ambrosius on the internet 

And Bal made a PowerPoint presentation ranking their cuteness factor out of 10 (100 was the lowest score he got and it was a picture of him with the ugliest bowl cut you’ve ever seen)

And made Ambrosius sit through it 

That was the most loved and mortified he had felt in a long time

Nimona uses low-quality pictures of them as reaction photos 

There have been times when Nimona asks “Can we eat out tonight” and Bal tells her no and she sends him this 

He’ll text back “Is that my fucking wanted poster?!” 

She asked Ambrosius if there was any ice cream left and he said no he expected her to call him and complain he didn’t expect this 

He calls her yelling “When the fuck did that happen?!” 

And she hangs up immediately to let Bal deal with it

[nonbinary-arsonists]

HELL YEAH PRI(D(EMO)N)TH

[s0fter-sin]

vampire au where they can only drink the blood type they were before they were turned. other blood has an almost poisonous effect, burning them from within like acid and drinking too much of it can kill them

in the old days, before the knowledge of blood types, it made humans they could feed on absolutely precious. they're kept safe, pampered and doted on; a vampire’s most prized possession

attacking another vampire's human is seen as the highest insult; not only is it a slight against them, it also carries the implication of "i want you to starve"

it's also used as the cruelest of punishments; starving a vampire for months, until they're feral with hunger just for their torturer to throw in a random human, watching them desperately suck down poison, their instincts begging them to keep drinking even as it kills them

ghost is one of the few who survived it; thrown in a pit so deep, he saw stars in the middle of the day, left with nothing but the dried bodies of the humans roba drained without care, others with their throats slit, blood he can't drink spilled out around them

a taunt of the one thing he needs but will never get

but ghost hasn't survived this long just to give up here

he refuses to die in this stinking, rotted pit

ghost is a force of nature as he descends over roba's manor; killing any who wander into his path until the halls run red. until he gets his hands on roba and tells him a secret:

vampires can feed on the blood of any vampire, regardless of blood type

it becomes a legend in vampire high society; if you starve another, you'd best make sure they actually die

otherwise you might end up piled in a dining room, the vampire you left for dead lounging on a throne of corpses with his fangs lodged in your throat

ghost decimates roba's empire, burning it to the ground until no one dares to speak his name in fear of incurring his wrath. it's incredibly taboo for a vampire to feed off another but ghost's too powerful for anyone to challenge him and the other vampires are too scared to try. scared of what he's willing to do, the lengths he'll go to; not that they'll ever admit it

soap is the first human he ever brings to court; delicately bathed in the finest silks and jewels, his throat always bare so he can show off ghost's ownership, his bite framed in lace

he's not like the delicate waifs the other vampires show off; he doesn't cling to his master, demure and submissive. he shows off his teeth as often as any vampire, fully willing to rip out the throats of any who insult him or ghost

a feral master needs a just as feral pet

[mclsquared]

Will, whispering: I swear to god I’m going to kill you.

Hannibal: Yes, but imagine a world without me.

Will:

Will, tearing up: Why would you—

[ohitslen]

Tending wounds.

[brainrotcharacters]

I'm just so happy for Logan honestly he finally found a bitch insane enough to match his freak

[firewasabeast]

Hey CJ! Idk if you take prompts (I loved your most recent ficlet)

BUT any thoughts on how Buck and Tommy annoy each other (on purpose)??

ahhh thank you so much! I'm always taking prompts, it just sometimes takes me a while to get to them. here's a two-in-one fic for you!

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click click.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click click.

Tommy looked over across the couch, where Buck was staring down at a crossword as he clicked his pen. Over and over.

“Do you need a new pen?” Tommy asked, keeping his tone calm and casual.

“Huh?” It took a second for Buck to register what he'd asked. “Oh, no. No, I'm good, thanks,” he said, glancing over at him with a smile.

Tommy returned the smile, then went back to reading his magazine.

Click click click clickclick click click.

Tommy took a long, deep breath.

Click click click click click click click click click.

“You sure?” He asked again, his voice going up an octave. “I have a whole drawer of them.”

And they're the kind with caps, he added to himself.

Buck shook his head. “Nope, this one works just fine.”

Click click click click click click. Click. Click. Click.

Click click click click clickclick-

Tommy closed the magazine and squeezed his eyes shut. “For the love of God, Evan, please stop.”

“Ha! So it does bother you!” Buck exclaimed, pointing the pen to Tommy with a triumphant look on his face.

“Does the endless pen clicking bother me? Yeah, maybe a little.”

Buck shook his head, relaxing further into the couch. “Finally.”

“Finally what?”

“I finally found something that makes Mr. Cool lose his cool.”

Tommy huffed out a laugh. “I did not lose my cool, thank you very much.”

“You looked like a pressure cooker that was about to explode.”

“So you were doing all of that just to annoy me?” Tommy asked, a playful glare on his face.

“After about the third click, yes.”

“And if I didn't stop you, you were what? Gonna click the entirety of We Will Rock You?”

Buck tilted his head, looking more impressed than anything now. “Y- You knew the song?”

“Of course I knew the song. Who wouldn't know that song?”

“I just didn't realize I was so talented. I could quit my job, begin a professional career as a click artist.”

Tommy opened his magazine back up, crossing one leg over the other. “I'd stick with firefighting if I were you.”

They were just settling back into a peaceful silence when:

Click click.

“Okay.” Tommy reached across the couch and pulled the pen out of Buck's hand before getting up and heading for the trash.

“Wait! No!” Buck exclaimed. “I just had to finish the line in the song. I was done.”

Tommy raised the lid to the garbage can and dropped the pen in it. “You can get another pen out of the drawer beside you. One with a cap,” he added quickly, “not a clicker.”

“You're no fun,” Buck teased, opening the drawer and grabbing another pen. “Oh, I see some clickers in here, Babe. I could do a rendition of Come Sail Away for you!”

Tommy walked back over to Buck, standing right in front of him on the couch. “I love you, Evan, but if you so much as touch another click pen I will leave.”

Buck snorted out a laugh, staring up at his boyfriend. “This is your house, Tommy!”

“I'll sign it over to you.”

Buck reached up and tugged on Tommy's shirt until he was hovering over him, one hand on the armrest and the other on the back of the couch. “Has anyone ever told you you're dramatic?” Buck asked, pulling Tommy in for a kiss.

“My drama teacher, third grade,” he replied with a nod. “Mrs. Collier.”

Buck gave Tommy one more kiss before letting him go. “I'll have to send her a note, tell her she was right.”

“Well, she was about seventy when I was in her class,” Tommy informed him, sitting back down in his seat, “so you'll have to search her address on Find a Grave.”

He resumed his magazine reading as Buck got back into his crossword...

Until about two minutes later, when Buck began drumming the new pen on his thigh. This time, he was seemingly completely unaware of what he was doing.

Tommy headed to bed early that night.

**********

The first time it happened, Buck was surprised, but he didn't say anything about it.

The second time, he laughed a bit, and when Tommy asked what was so funny he just shrugged and said he'd never seen anyone do that before.

The third time, he thought he might die.

“Did you, um, did you use a fork to scoop out the butter?” he asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as humanly possible.

Tommy breezed by, grabbing a drink out of the fridge on his way to the garage for a work out. “Yeah. Had toast this morning.” He gave Buck a pat on the ass before heading out the door.

Buck immediately pulled a knife out of a drawer and smoothed out the butter.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. Realistically, Buck knew that.

But there was something so jarring about opening a container of butter only to see that it was littered with stab wounds.

It felt wrong.

It felt like a crime.

The fourth time it happened, it was the day after he and Tommy had gotten into an argument. Nothing too serious, and they had made up by the time they went to bed.

But Tommy had made himself dinner that night and he'd decided on scrambled eggs.

Which meant he'd first put butter in the pan so the eggs wouldn't stick.

Buck didn't want to another fight right now, so he kept quiet and fixed the butter once again, then went about his day.

The fifth time it happened, Buck was ready to throw every fork in the house away. He could no longer remain silent on such a serious issue. It needed to be discussed, and it needed to be discussed now.

There was no better time, as Tommy was opening their mail at the dining room table while Buck started on dinner.

“Uh, Tommy?”

“Yeah, Babe?”

“We, um, I- I need to talk to you.”

Tommy looked up from the mail and over to where Buck stood in the kitchen. “Uh oh,” he said when he saw the look on Buck face. “You sound serious.”

“Yeah, I- it. It's the butter, Tommy. I- Most people use a knife when they're getting butter, but you're using a fork, and it makes the butter look all stabby and I've just been fixing it myself every time I see it, but I really don't understand why you can't use a knife, or even a spoon, ya know?” He was rambling, but once he started he couldn't seem to stop. “It looks so much better if you use a knife because then it keeps that smooth, buttery texture instead of looking like its been to war and-” he stopped when he noticed that Tommy was smiling at him. “What?” he asked.

“I knew you'd break eventually.”

“Wh- What do you mean?”

Tommy picked up a pen from the table, holding his arm out straight in front of him.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click click.

When it hit him, Buck gasped, his eyes widening. “That was months ago!” he exclaimed. “We weren't even living together then!”

“And yet I've never forgotten,” Tommy replied, feeling a sense of vindication.

“You're diabolical.” He held the tub of butter out toward Tommy. “This could be considered a form of torture, you know?”

Tommy stood and walked over to Buck. “What would they call it? Butter-forking?” he asked, taking the tub from Buck and getting a knife from the drawer. He began smoothing the butter out himself, until it looked perfect on top. “Better?” he asked, showing Buck his work.

Buck turned his head to the side dramatically, staring out the kitchen window. “I don't know if we'll get past this.”

Tommy put the butter down, moving closer to Buck and placing his hands on his waist. “Could we try?” he asked. “I'd hate to tell the caterers we had to cancel the wedding on a count of me forking butter. Especially since it sounds shockingly close to doing something else with butter.”

Buck shuddered when he realized what Tommy meant. He looked up at him through his eyelashes. “Will you never destroy the sanctity of our butter with your fork ever again?”

“I will try my best,” Tommy promised. “As long as you continue to stay away from clickable pens.”

Buck sighed. “There goes the last chances of my career as a musical clicker,” he said with a pout, wrapping his arms around Tommy's shoulders.

“And there goes my career as a professional butter stabber,” Tommy replied, his hands tightening on Buck's waist as he got rid of his pout with a kiss.

[andy-clutterbuck]

Rick Grimes in The Ones Who Live | 1x04 - What We