#mobile post needs formatting

[immortalmuses]

(sms Henry > Alex 💙: ) Hey love. I'm sorry to drop this on you, but I tried to call and got no answer so I guess you're busy or hopefully asleep. I don't want to ruin any plans you have but I need to talk to you about some stuff. Can you let me know when your schedule is a bit more open? I'm happy to come to you - H

Somewhere out there, in the infinite multiverse, exists a reality where Alex's sleep schedule isn't an absolute trainwreck. It's a universe where he likes to think his alternate self is perpetually well-rested, never puts himself through an all-nighter cram session, and doesn't have to resort to inhaling unadvised levels of coffee before 10am just to jump start his brain.

Alas, that reality is not this reality, and Alex Claremont-Diaz is almost late for class.

He's standing in front of his bathroom mirror, manically brushing his teeth with one hand while trying to tame his curls with the other, when it occurs to him to check for a text from Henry. It's typically the first thing he does when he wakes up, but finals week has turned all of Alex's normal (functional human) habits on their head.

Unlocking his phone now, the American squints at his screen until the message from Hen starts to make sense... well, sort of. He's not sure about the cryptic wording, but a quick review of missed calls reveals that his boyfriend tried to reach him sometime after Alex must have faceplanted into his pillow. Damn.

There's something about the message that makes him want to call Henry back properly, rather than resort to text. They've both gotten pretty good at writing out their feelings to one another, but sometimes it's just no replacement for tone. Calling Hen will almost certainly make him late for class, yeah, but Alex finds he doesn't really care. He selects the Prince's contact number and hits 'Send' before lifting the phone to his ear.

"Hen?" Alex says as soon as the other man picks up, moving back into his bedroom to finish pulling a sweater on over his head, "Hey baby, what's this 'stuff' you need t'talk to me about?"

[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.

[flowerakatsuka]

thinking about kuroba again so i did some phone doodles of their high school & kun looks!

some notes about about kuro's high school design under the cut!

despite being in the school's beautification committee, kuroba never really put too much thought into their own physical appearance until they got into college, only really doing the bare minimum to look presentable in public. the only reason why they ended up cutting their hair in their 3rd year was because they were sick of it constantly falling into their face and dealing with it in general. ( cutting their hair did kickstart their interest in changing their look, though. figuring out their gender helped a lot, too. )

they used to have horrible posture, often hunching forward. this only improved in college, when they started binding and felt more confident in themself.

the major reason why karamatsu doesn't remember who kuroba is is because of how much their look has changed since they were in the same 2nd year class, along with their change in demeanor. he still faintly remembers his interactions with them, though. i imagine that if kuroba showed up in the movie, they'd have a flower instead of a head in kara's memories.

he would've attempted to become friends with kuroba in their 2nd year, but he ended up forgetting their name and felt so terrible about it that he couldn't bring himself to try reaching out to them before they changed classes. they probably ran into each other once or twice during their 3rd year, but kara never made the connection ( and continues to fail to do so when they meet again. )

[sinlizards]

do you have any more examples of your art before and after rendering? you have such a fun and distinct style!

I have a ton!! i usually post them along with the main pieces over on twitter but tumblr doesnt lend itself to that format as well </3 I'll throw a couple of more interesting ones here and if theres a specific piece you wanna see the comparison of feel free to lemme know and I can see if i have the sketch file for that to share :]

[silvery-bluish]

12 for ars for the touchy prompt

It’s been Months whoops. Thank you for the ask!!

Contents: Pushing a strand of hair behind their ear, Arsinoe & Themmy. Stepdays.

Wordcount: 499

Warnings: None!

12. Pushing a strand of hair behind their ear

Door one is easy enough, slip your gloves off and into your pockets to pick the lock more easily. The second is— less so. Mostly because there isn’t actually a keyhole on the side of the door you’re on. Deadbolt on the other side, maybe.

“Your turn,” you say, making a little gesture for Themmy to go ahead, because while lockpicks are more subtle, acid’s useful in a pinch.

They grin at you, rubbing their hands together briefly. Yellow daffodils on their nails that are about to vanish rather abruptly. “Gonna make me do the hard work, huh?”

“I’d unscrew the damn thing if I could reach the hinges,” you say, little head tilt as you consider the doorframe. They laugh, pressing their hands against the seam between door and doorframe. The acrid sizzle of acid on metal.

You fuss with your lockpicks, tucking them back into their pocket against your ribs. Slim zipper hidden by teal piping.

“I’ve got my damn hair in my eyes again,” Anathema gripes, hands still planted on approximately where the hinges are. “I always forget to bring a spare hair tie.”

You’re quiet a moment, watching the metal sizzle and listening to them continue to grumble about it under their breath. Fidget with your pockets, circle of elastic ending up around your wrist. “Do you want help?” you ask, and their eyes flick over to you, half-obscured by red curls fallen into their face.

You pluck the elastic around your wrist in emphasis, and their eyes soften, smile curling the edges of what used to be an annoyed expression. Good. Their face is shaped for smiling, not scowling. You always felt like it suited them better.

“Sure, Arsenic. Ponytail me.” A little laugh, as they tilt their head towards you. “Doesn’t need to be a nice one.”

You smile back at them, not that they can tell through your mask. Quick slide of your hand to tuck hair behind one of their ears, temporary stopgap before you circle around to behind them.

Once you’re out of sight, they ask, “Are you carrying around hair ties for me?” It’s half-tease half-touched, like they already know the answer without you saying anything.

“They’re useful for other things,” you defend, and then, “You always forget.” Carefully pull their hair together at the nape of their neck, trying not to yank on it or tickle them.

Your nails catch on their hair, a little, chipped polish, but they don’t complain about it. Bundled together bright red curls, remnants of bright colored hair chalk clinging to the strands. Getting on your hands, too, but that’s alright. Loop the hair tie once, twice, a careful third time to hold it in place.

“Thanks,” Themmy says, when you’ve finished and pulled your hands away. You haven’t stepped away yet, so they bump you gently with their shoulder. Your mask is still down, so they can’t see it, but you’re still smiling at them.

You’re pretty sure they can tell anyway.

[onconstellationstreetmp3]

Heat (1995) | NBC Hannibal, "Dolche" | Dead Ringers (1988) | "Two Children in a Motel" (demo), Ethel Cain | "Exit Music (For a Film)", Radiohead | "Alien She", Bikini Kill

[sometownie]

I was looking at my college picsets and just had to throw these pics together! These are graduation pics paired with pictures from their freshmen year!

I play two uni years per round, which means there's always two different age groups in the university at the same time.

Top down from oldest to newest, names go left to right on the rightside pics:

1: Oliver Aoki, Rayna Limestone (not in first pic) and Neil Waters

Rayna is the oldest of the third generation Limestones. My original plan was for Rayna and Neil to get married and start a family but it just felt SO wrong without Oliver, so now they're building a family all together! They now have two kids, third on the way. Neil and Oliver are CAS made.

2: Kanerva Huotari and Storm Limestone

Storm is Rayna's little brother, and Kanerva is a townie who was good friends with Rayna. Storm and Kanerva are married with two kids.

3: Milo Lovett, Lemon Farwood, Johnny Mills and Rosa Limestone

Rosa is the next sibling of the Limestones in university. Johnny and Lemon are cousins. Lemon and Milo are married with two kids, while Rosa is currently dating and Johnny just got married to Rosanna Sherman.

4: Apple Farwood, Jenny Mills and Shane Limestone

Shane is the youngest of these Limestone siblings in the university! Apple is Lemon's younger sister and Jenny Johnny's. They're all very fresh out of college still, only one round into adulthood, so their future is still very open :)

5: Kevin Rogan (not in first pic), Lila Hart and Ilona Tannen

Ilona, Lila and Kevin are the most recent graduates from university! Lila and Ilona are CAS made, but Kevin was the next Limestone to attend college: he's the cousin to all the earlier Limestones!

The current freshmen include Katy, who's Kevin's younger sister, and Ruby, who's another Limestone cousin to these all! And Mango is the younger brother to Lemon and Apple!

[ravarui]

@chopchopclown

"You forgot to add 'homewrecker' on your little listening." And probably other names as well, some more flattering than others.

[kittttycakes]

[blurb] dream a little dream of me

content: established reader x Hob Gadling, implied reader x Morpheus, setting up to eventual reader x Hob Gadling x Morpheus, no use of Y/N, third person, she/her pronouns for the reader, mild suggestive content but still SFW, 0.6k

notes: this is part of a larger piece I’m working on with the three of them, but I don’t know if it’ll make it through to the final product, and I liked it a little too much to cut it entirely, so I’m sharing it here for now, with more to come. 

summary: sometimes, dreams can show us what we want, whether we’re ready for it or not

It’s really a rather nice dream, if a little mundane. It’s one she’s had before, but she can’t say that she minds it, she never minds spending time with Hob, dreaming or waking, and they get precious little time spent for just themselves when classes start again at the university.

In the dream, she’s in the park near Hob’s flat, a short walk from the pub, on a beautiful late summer afternoon. The leaves are just beginning to hint at a turn, the air is just starting to crisp, and she knows this will probably be one of the last afternoons spent like this, head resting on his lap as she lays on the blanket beside him, reading. 

His hand runs gently through her hair, paperback splayed pages-down beside him while he watches the ducks or the people or her, she can never be sure which it is. He’s perfected his timing to look away as soon as she turns to look up at him, but his smile always gives him away. It’s one of the many dozen things she loves about him, and she’s preparing to turn and try to surprise him before he can look away when the hand stills in her hair, as if the man above her is caught off guard by something. In the logic of dreams, something is different, something has changed--the denim under her cheek is black and not blue, as it was just moments ago--

She turns to her back to look up at Hob—but that isn’t Hob, and the man looks almost as surprised to be there as she is to see him. This is a decidedly different context than her other dreams of him, although the hand in her hair is the same. But his eyes—she’s seen the almost unnatural blue of them more than a few times, waking and dreaming, and these are different. There are entire galaxies living and dying inside those eyes.

She opens her mouth to say his name—the one she overheard Hob using with him, not the name he gave her when they met—at the same time that he says her name, voice even more resonant than she’s ever heard it awake, and then “Wake up.” 

The sheets are tangled around her waist and she finds herself sitting up before she realizes she’s moved, breathing slightly uneven as she reacclimates herself: she’s in Hob’s bedroom, the man himself still sleeping beside her, the softest of dawn light entering in through the window. She’ll tell Hob about it when he wakes up, she decides, laying back down beside him, face turned toward him. 

“Bad dream?” Hob asks, eyes still closed, face half pressed to the pillow. 

She smiles. She should have known. “Not bad, just--unexpected. I dreamed about your friend.” She settles against the pillows, closing her eyes, trying to remember how it went as she tells Hob what she can. “But his eyes, Hob--I don’t think you understand. They were full of stars, and they were so beautiful--and then he told me to wake up, and I think I did.” 

Hob looks at her for a moment, shifting to face her fully. “Dreams are like that sometimes, pet,” he says carefully. She thinks maybe he’s still tired. He’s wide awake. If she were more awake, she might notice that he’s trying to shift her focus, but she’s still just tired enough to be easily led. “Not as interesting as the one you had last week--”

“I regret telling you about the one I had last week.”

“That wasn’t what you told me at the time.”

“Your mouth was otherwise occupied and wasn’t making fun of me then.” 

He wraps his arm around her, pulls her in again. “I’m going back to sleep, if you’d like to join me. I haven’t willingly woken up quite this early in years.” She settles against him, legs tangled with his, and falls asleep easily, and does not dream. Hob stays awake, mind working, as he tries to decide how much to explain to her, and when. 

[thychesters]

breakwater. post-whiskey peak; zolu if you squint or platonic ; 4.7k

It’s cold out on the Grand Line, where the weather changes almost instantaneously and the seas are calm one moment and threatening to capsize them the next. It’s easier to use that as an excuse for the way Luffy’s stomach turns and the back of his throat tastes of guilt.

The sensation has plagued him since they first set out from Whiskey Peak, after Igaram’s ship had gone up in an angry blaze and Miss All Sunday had left an ominous feeling trailing after all of them.

It reaches a head right in the middle of dinner that night after their departure, when they all sit together for the first time, and Nami and Vivi take turns filling Sanji and Usopp in on what they’d missed over the past few hours.

Zoro turns his head to weigh in on the events Nami missed, and Luffy pauses, nearly choking on a mouthful of roasted chicken. The side of his face is marred by a nasty bruise, the skin around his eye purple and red, blooming down his cheek and toward his hairline in contrast to his earrings, and as Luffy’s fingers close around his fork he recognizes the shape of his fist.

read on ao3.

[swordsmans]

i leave little notes to myself on my drafts at the end of a writing session and i've started taking pics before i delete them the next day (after fixing the issue) because i am actually SO funny when i am sleep deprived.

[crystal-verse]

divinity -- noun; the quality of being divine/divine nature/a divine being

sae'pheli'ehva has always been divine. mortal bodies are not meant to hold such sacred, hallowed aether.

[oof-i-did-it-agaaiiin]

obsessed with them

[piningpercussionist]

“MKIM”

“Fuck”

“KIM (ignore the first message)”

“I think im back at scotts???”

“All I know is that im back in my cabinet with my lack of a roommate”

“I should get a new roommate”

“Oh hey are you and ramona dating now I heard you two kiss good (I was trapped like right next to ramona I think???? I couldn’t see at all)”

-🐇 (She’s very tired and wish she went to bed earlier)

Kim taps her fingers anxiously against the couch she is seated on, feeling particularly tense.

It's the next morning, and she is... very tired.

After she'd answered the texts from last night, she'd look down to find Ramona passed out on the floor beneath her; while amusing, it had proven to be an ordeal getting her back to her house, and Kim had probably made a good few enemies marching straight through the party stragglers making her exit.

That was neither here or there, however; because, now, here she was, waiting for whenever Ramona would wake up and come downstairs.

Her back ached horribly, having opted not to just sleep in Ramona's bed. She'd wanted to, but it was a bit much for how many GUT POINTS she'd already spent.

Her eyes flick over to her phone as it vibrates, and after a slight pause, she takes it, flipping it open to read and respond.

I... Don't know? I'll get back to you on that.

Uh

Sorry if you heard all that, then

Yeesh

That's embarrassing.

Glad you got back to... Scott's cabinet I guess. Is it even hospitable though?

She snaps her phone shut and puts it back down where it was before, placing her head in her hands to sit and playback the night before.

(... there's no heterosexual explanation for that, Kim. You're not blaming the booze this time.)

She lets out a frustrated groan before planting her face against the cushions, wrapping her arms around her head.

(She's not running. Yet. So you don't get to run either, you absolute fucking moron. You made this mess.)

There is a moment of silence in her head.

(... do I need to say something to Scott? Like apologize or something? Fuck...)

[dell-of-forochel]

Ok so, the wonderful @mean-scarlet-deceiver wrote a Toby x Diesel ficlet a while back that I've read 800 times and love every word of but it was only an hour ago that I become possessed by the art gods to put this absolutely awful idea I had to paper:

Also first original post for this fandom yeah baby!!!!

[offlineblues]

i think more bots have followed me than actual humans at this point. it's a little depressing

good evening to all 90 of you regardless. sorry i never use this website enough, i need to organize and follow more tags and people, but it's tough! i want more time in the day... gah...