#ok ok little fun facts now:

[fearthedancer]

May i interest you guys in my idea of past dream chasers?

Character portraits (dreamzzz present and from when they were dream chasers)

Dream world avatars

Nadine was a normal teenage girl living in Brooklyn. She always had a passion for drawing and painting, her paintings hanging all around her room. Her best friend and neighbour, Austin, loves to read manga and loves his minifigure collection. They both go to school together with their friend Michael. He always seems to bop his head to a tune that can only be heard by him.

One day their science teacher Mr Oswald recruited them, along with one of the rude popular girls Natalie, to train to become dream chasers and protect the dream world if the Nightmare King ever comes back.

When the kids got in highschool they couldnt be dream chasers anymore, as they felt that they have grown up and decided to give away their hour glasses. Of course, they still keep contact with Dr Oz as they still love him.

[beatcroc]

there's no way the bathroom at peppino's pizza is actually that big but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . hey ummm anyway.... i care them...... anyway there's a lil ramble on my take on fake pep's like psyche or whatever in tags on the og post if ur into that kinda thing :y

hey! it's a series! fake peppino world tour: [noise] [noisette] [peppino]<- u are here [gustavo] [gerome] [noisette again]

[auriidae]

goofy hermit doodles!! because uhh why not!!

[thatonecrookedsmile]

I would say that, considering his history, he's not that wrong, but even I have doubts as to whether that would be right. But at the end of the day, this is just a joke that's been in my head for a while, sooooo…eh.

Oh hey, an attempt at a comic? Made by me? That I didn't give up during the process or lost all motivation? What was my only attempt at this, 2019? Damn, it's been a long time.

I thought about leaving this here without editing or any colors, just the natural ones from the paper and pencil. But something in my head said "HAHAHA, no" so I went back to work. I had to put this idea down on paper this time (literally). If another year passes without me being able to execute this idea, I would lose my mind.

This scenario was inspired by this video by Jehtt, inspired by the original meme by Windii. Credits to both of them.

For a long time I wanted to joke - especially on the anniversary - that I wanted Sammy to only have less than 5 seconds in the next game (or in other words, take his screen time in DR, and shorten it even more). You know, just for the funnies (unless..?) But,thanks to the news released at the beginning of January this year about The Cage, I legally can't do this joke anymore…this year. Don't worry, after that comes out (and finally gives Sam the screen time he wants,hopefully) and we start to crawl into the Bendy 3 production era, I'll make this joke when I can.

Anyway, happy birthday Sammy Lawrence. You may not be my favorite character in this franchise, but there are some things I can actually appreciate about you. Plus, you made me laugh a few moments before (you know what I'm talking about) so there's that.

And happy 7 years to Chapter 2, and by extension, Susie, Norman, Alice, the Searchers, (Johnny????), and Beta Ink Bendy. (I would mention Jack too, but he was only introduced with the release of CH4, so technically it's not his birthday yet, but I'll consider him here).

And now? May I be able to do something for CH4's anniversary. Wish me luck,cus I'll need it.

(it might be really late now, but it's still the 18th where I live, so it's still his birthday, so I still won)

[thresholdbb]

Can we talk about The Dying Swan moment in Coda? As someone who was once a very serious ballerina, I need to talk about the Dying Swan. Here's your context --

CHAKOTAY: Harry's clarinet solo was okay. I could have done without Tuvok's reading of Vulcan poetry. But the highlight of the evening was definitely Kathryn Janeway portraying the Dying Swan. JANEWAY: I learned that dance when I was six years old. I assure you, it was the hit of the Beginning Ballet class.

Have you seen The Dying Swan? It is dramatic.

Here, take a minute:

First of all, this dance is much too advanced for a six-year-old, even if they’re doing it in demi pointe. (Six-year-olds emphatically should not be in pointe shoes btw.) The dance is almost entirely bourees and arm movements done to very subtle musical cues, not the foundational ballet moves typically taught in Beginning Ballet.

This is a very vulnerable, dramatic dance that is effective because of its subtleties. The performer would need to embody that vulnerability in some way for a convincing performance. It's short, but it's a solo piece -- all eyes on you. I mean, it was choreographed for a prima ballerina, BUT THAT'S NOT MY POINT

Can you imagine our unflappable Captain Janeway willingly getting in front of her crew to do this ballet? I get that it’s thematically relevant to the plot of Coda, but since Janeway is only vulnerable in front of her crew when it means putting herself in harm’s way, it seems like a wild decision. She tends to hold herself apart from her crew, maintaining the professional distance of the captain. Further, when she does any creative pursuit, it is almost always in private, since her sister was the artist in the family and she was the scientist. As a captain, she commands Voyager in a much different way than she would as a dancer with this piece. I'm not saying she never shows vulnerability because she definitely does, but not necessarily in this way. Then when she talks about it with Chakotay, she just casually brushes it off with a laugh like no big deal.

There’s also the question of costume – would she have gone full tutu? Done it in her Starfleet uniform? An impeccable yet flow-y white suit? She does get into costume and command a performance in Bride of Chaotica!, but Coda is still kind of early days for our captain. Arachnia aligns more with what we know about Janeway's character.

Granted, it is Chakotay laying down these complements about her dancing ability and he is clearly biased. To be fair, Neelix does too before they leave in the shuttle. If she did this dance and performed it poorly or amazingly, I feel like the crew would look at her a bit differently afterwards.

Canonically she did The Dying Swan, but I certainly have trouble picturing it happening.

[sisididis]

Nanami Kento in the Opening and Ending of Jujutsu Kaisen

[doodleodds]

royalty & fairy tale au’s are meant to be mixed and u can’t change my mind

Late shuake week 2022 day 3 - Royalty AU

[p0rchc0ll4ps3]

if judit has 1 fan, that 1 fan is me

(harry's telling her some kind of stupid joke and judit's trying really hard not to laugh)

[nocaptainonthisship]

The Festive Seasoning

Advent 2023

Haladriel (M)

Galadriel Noldor is a talented chef, with a cowboy-cute boyfriend who drives her up the wall.

Halbrand Mairon is a cutthroat TV producer, with a small-town pretty girlfriend who makes him a little crazy.

Celeborn Sindar is a dedicated data reconfiguration specialist, with an arrestingly gorgeous girlfriend who makes his life hell.

Shelob Webb is a gifted textile artist, with a cunningly-charming boyfriend, who makes her question everything- but most of all herself.

Or: a slanted Hallmark AU where one person’s villain is another’s hero.

[sparky-is-spiders]

When I first finished my Amaldyne ref I started on an image of her breathing dragonfire but never finished it. Until now! Here she is my beautiful baby girl setting things on fire. Idk how I feel about the shading but I'm kinda proud about how revenant!Amaldyne looks. (Also if you're wondering why her neck is Like That it's because maintaining your form as a big hungry goop puddle is especially hard when you're also angy). This was mostly just to see how dragonfire looks when I try blending it a bit (which I don't do on the refs to make it more clear which colors go where) but I might mess around with it in the future, idk.

Anyway some Lizard Lore(TM): dragonfire is a very unique substance. Impossible to replicate (at least under current magical science), dragonfire can and will destroy everything it touches save for the dragon who breathes it. All dragons have at least a few sparks (even if all they ever manage to do is cough up smoke and embers), but a vast majority only have enough to breathe out a single stream for a few minutes, after which they'll need to stop and recover. Amaldyne is probably about average when it comes to dragonfire (although nothing about my universe is set in stone yet sooooo). Dragonfire can come in any color except blue (although there are a handful of old, scattered scraps of legend about a powerful sky dragon with bright cyan flames). It also sometimes feels more like a dragon's element rather than regular fire (although most who get hit by it are generally too distracted by the feeling of being burned by magic fire to describe the experience afterwards). Amaldyne, as a poison dragon, has fire that feels like getting doused in acid (complete with an odd, slimy sensation that lingers for awhile after). It's pretty common and there really isn't any particular significance to it. Just an odd quirk of dragon magic. Also, if a dragon's fire is somehow extinguished (methods to do so are currently unknown) or stolen (incredibly difficult but also quite possible, if you know a few tricks), it WILL kill them. A dragon won't survive without their dragonfire, not even for a moment.

[salsflore]

i wish i were better w sharing (in regards to like my self ships. obvi)

[rvbyaoi]

bam. donut rvb. thinking about him......

[id: a traditional drawing of donut from red vs blue during season 1. he is wearing his armour, but his helmet is off. he has light brown skin, and short curly brown hair that has been bleached blond. he has a scar over the right side of his face, which is shaped like icing on a cartoon donut. his right eye has a reddish sclera and light blue glazed over iris. his left eye is dark blue, and he is posed like he is thinking. a text bubble reads “you guys are colourblind. why would they give me pink armour?” end id]

[happi-tree]

your eyes look like coming home

On their two-week journey back from Earth, the protective paladin watches over his sleeping friends. As it turns out, though, he's not the only one having trouble getting some shut-eye.

Title from "Everything Has Changed" by Taylor Swift (yes, that one)

*waves* Hello dndads fandom! Enjoy some post episode-23 taylor/link (taylink? swiftli?) softness bc they deserve it 💗💗💗 ft. my part-demon trait hcs for Taylor and a nonzero amount of unintentional foreshadowing!

Lincoln had always been an early riser - more out of self-imposed obligation than anything else, really - but lately, he’s been finding himself staying up later and later, unable to rest. The concept of sleep itself is like a dream he can’t quite grasp, reminiscent of the firefly-golden flickers of memories that are not his. 

Gossamer and effervescent and magical and horrible, they sear themselves into the backs of his eyelids even now, miniature sunbursts in the darkness (and all of those metaphors in English class make sense now that he’s actually seen a sun) filling his senses with too-hot-too-bright-too-much. Every time he closes his eyes, the flashes linger like so much of its static in the back of his mind, always present like the undulating black not-sky of his true homeland, always watching like the red-black eye that gazed blinkingly upon his entire childhood. 

And this is all too much for Link to deal with, and he can’t change the past no matter how it haunts him, and he can’t command its all-seeing form to turn away, so he sits quietly in the middle row of the Pussywagon and watches with bloodshot eyes as his companions slumber. 

If he’s awake, at least he can look out for his friends. 

He can look at Scary and take comfort in her even, deep breaths and her ramrod, borderline vampiric posture as she mutters in her sleep, her nightcap slightly askew atop disheveled black-magenta hair. He grimaces to himself a bit as she grumbles incoherently - Link doesn’t trust this Willy guy one bit, but after these past weeks, he’s just glad to see her sleeping peacefully. Glad that her chest rises and falls with each breath, glad that her typical sneer has faded at the corners, rounding out her face into something younger, more like the girl that used to lead the varsity soccer team.

If Link’s still conscious, he can look at Normal and breathe a quiet sigh of relief that he’s not thrashing in his sleep anymore, every cell in his body begging for its presence to get out of his head as he dreams. Even still, silent tears stream down his acne-ridden cheeks, face contorted into an anguished mask so unlike his enthusiastic smiles, and Lincoln finds himself mumbling words of comfort on instinct. He feels the now-familiar twinge of magic siphoning from between his cells and coalescing into an invisible, intangible something that smooths the furrows between Normal’s brows, eases the tension of his jaw as the boy exhales more steadily than before.

If Link can force his eyes to stay open, he can look at his father, now more childlike and more intensely violent than he has ever known him. He had fallen asleep at the wheel (and Link is eternally grateful that this cat-bus can drive itself), smartphone abandoned on his lap playing the low-volume, tinny Fortnite theme on its dim screen. He snores annoyingly loudly, and Link is hit with a pang of homesick-nostalgic-bitterness at the sound. Link gingerly reaches across to shut off the device and has to shake off the innocent, desperate part of himself that wants to cuddle up next to his dad and feel safe in his warm embrace. (That ship has long since passed, now. The only protection Link has is the safety he makes for himself.)

If Link refuses to sleep, he can look at Hermie, who has graciously taken the passenger seat next to his dad. He’s been through a lot of unnecessary trouble for their little group, and despite his initial misgivings, Link can’t help but worry for him, especially given the more recent revelations about his parentage. Hermie twitches in his sleep, hissing when the worn upholstered seat rubs too harshly on his partially-healed burns. Link’s going to have to see about healing those the rest of the way soon - maybe Normal can help with that, too, since he seems to have a soft spot for the guy. A conversation for the morning (or what amounts to it in the void), definitely. 

If Link just stays awake, he can look at Taylor, who -

“Hey,” a familiar, nasally voice calls out from the purple-tinted not-quite-darkness, accompanied by a crooked smile that looks several shades thinner than usual. 

Oh. Taylor’s still awake. 

Carefully, Link shuffles across the seat toward Taylor’s prone form. A singular eye is cracked open, glowing amber like a yellowed headlight. It’s a different hue of gold than the shades from the church, Link thinks, a soft, pretty color, and then wonders why he thinks that. Must be the lack of sleep.

“Hi,” Link says, trying to keep his voice as quiet as possible.

“You’re trying to stay awake, aren’t ya?” 

“Someone’s been working on their perception, I see,” Link replies in lieu of a direct response, and it earns him a quiet huff of laughter. It’s such a childlike sound, like a secret shared at the sleepovers they had as much younger kids, and it makes Link ache for something that none of them can ever get back. 

“You look exhausted, man,” Taylor says, and both of his eyes are open now, molten-honey sclera fixated directly on Link. 

“Says you,” he retorts, taking in the bags beneath those lamplight eyes, the way Taylor’s knees press against the seat in front of them. “You don’t even have a blanket, dude, no wonder you can’t sleep. You must be freezing. Here, let me -”

“No!” Taylor says, the sudden volume making Link freeze as he holds up the edge of a thermal blanket (it’s actually Taylor’s, one of many the boy had stashed in his “go bag”) for his friend. 

“I mean, nah, man,” Taylor repeats, quieter. “I run pretty warm usually - ‘s why I gave my blanket to Scary. I actually, uh, overheat a lot? And Mom and I could never figure out wh-” and Link watches realization cross Taylor’s face in tandem with his own. 

“Oh,” Taylor says, a soft, broken syllable as he looks down at his hands, clenching and unclenching them. “Oh. That tracks, I guess.”

His eyes shift upward, easy to track in the dark, and something in Link’s body language forces a half-laugh out of Taylor.

“It’s, uh, pretty cool, actually! Another power to add to my main character repertoire. Living furnace, baby! Perks of being half-demon,” Taylor cracks a grin, and it’s a bit wobbly around the edges. 

If Link was to put Taylor’s typically unshakeable confidence on a scale of, say, one to twenty, he’d probably give it a solid six. 

“Speaking of, how are you dealing with, uh, all of that?” Link offers hesitantly, briefly looking down at the way Taylor’s hands clench-unclench-clench.

“Pfft, all of what? The fact that my dad’s a kickass demon and now the government’s after me? Just a typical day in the life of a cool shounen protag like me!” Taylor jerks a thumb toward himself in emphasis, slightly-sharp teeth glinting in the purple-tinted dark. 

“If you say so,” Link says, uncertain. “It’s just, I meant to check in with you earlier, but between all of the… well…” Link makes some stupid, aborted gesture with his hands that does absolutely nothing to convey all of the mind-bending shit they’ve seen since the FBI. 

“You worry a lot, don’t you, big guy?” Taylor mutters, forcing Link to look up from fidgeting with the hem of his tattered Ho Topic shirt. 

“I mean, aren’t you worried?” Link responds. “It’s just - a few weeks ago, the biggest thing I had to worry about was getting on varsity next season, and now the fate of the world is at stake? And we could die at any moment? And I don’t even know my own dad anymore? We’re just - fuck, we’re just kids. We shouldn’t have to deal with… everything. Of course I’m worried, and I’m stressed, and I don’t know what we’re-!”

“Woah, woah, woah, dude,” Taylor says, waving his hands in a lowering sort of motion, and Link hadn’t realized how loud his voice had gotten.

“Sorry,” he squeaks, voice cracking pathetically.

“All good, my man,” Taylor reassures, and he must’ve scooted closer to Link without him noticing, because -

“Wow, you really do run warm,” Link says, almost to himself. “You’re like a tiny space heater.”

“I - I’m not that tiny!” Taylor splutters, temperature briefly spiking even warmer. “Some of us haven’t hit our growth spurt yet, mister tall-dark-and-handsome!”

“I - wh-” Link hopes his complexion hides the heat in his cheeks, because he’d hardly call himself handsome.

Taylor just scoffs. “Unbelievable. I know being all sheltered is like, your whole thing, but you’re really pretty, dude, you gotta know that. Like, prime shoujo love interest material, here!” He sounds genuinely exasperated that he has to spell this out, and then his pupils constrict comically (kind of like a cat’s, Link notes. It’s pretty cute), and he blurts, “In like, a totally platonic no-homo kind of way, uh. Yeah. Heh.”

“Oh,” Link says, because how the hell is he supposed to respond to that?

And then, because he apparently likes shooting himself in the foot, he says “Did you know that your eyes glow in the dark? They look pretty cool.”

“I’m always c- wait, really?!” Taylor nearly falls over in his attempt to pull his phone from one of his many, many pockets, only to pull a face at whatever he sees.

“Damn, guess they don’t show up on camera that well,” he mumbles. “Lame.”

“The white parts are like, this warm, pretty coppery-amber color,” Link tells him, only half-aware of what he’s saying. “Like honey. Or apple juice. And it’s kinda faint, but they glow like Christmas lights, or like, candles or something. They suit you,” he says, voice low, and he realizes that he’s much closer to Taylor’s face than he had been thirty seconds ago. “Uh. I mean. They look cool. Yeah.”

Open mouth, insert foot. At least he hadn’t said that Taylor’s eyes remind him of home or something ridiculous like that. Jesus Christ. 

“Didn’t know we had another poet in the bus with us,” Taylor says after a moment of stunned silence. “Not gonna lie, that was kinda fruity, dude,” he teases, nudging an elbow to his ribs.

Link’s stomach briefly drops, and then he remembers the pink-purple-blue striped pin on the jacket Taylor always wears, and Link lets out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

“Says the guy who called me handsome,” he deflects.

“Hey, I said no homo! What’s your excuse?”

“I’m wearing socks,” Link counters.

And Taylor laughs, sudden and sharp and incandescent for the briefest of moments before he claps a hand over his mouth to stifle it.

It’s stupidly contagious, and Link bites down on his grinning lips to suppress any sound, his shoulders shaking with the effort. 

He really likes Taylor’s laugh, Link realizes. He should get that sound to happen more often.

Eventually, Taylor pulls his hand away from his mouth, and Link is greeted with a smile - a real, genuine smile, not one of those fake smirks he uses like a shield, but something open and unguarded, matching the warmth in those shining eyes. 

The temperature spikes again from beside him, and Link’s eyes dart away from curling lips and flashing teeth in concern. “You alright, man?”

“Yup!” Taylor chirps, wobbly and high-pitched. Link decides not to comment on the voice crack. His eyes dart around a bit, and then he asks, “Uh, got enough blanket there, man?”

“Wha- oh,” Link says, looking down at the way that his feet and the majority of his shins peek out from the borrowed rectangle of fabric. “Most blankets don’t really uh… account for taller people. ‘M used to it.”

“Tch. Not if I have anything to say about it,” Taylor murmurs.

“Seriously, dude, it’s fi-” suddenly, it feels like Link’s holding the sun again, except this warmth doesn’t burn him and it’s also person-sized. Because Taylor is pressed up bodily against him, a line of soothing heat from shoulder to knee. 

“Uh.” 

Taylor leans away the slightest of millimeters, and Link has to stop himself from leaning with him. 

“Oh, I totally should’ve asked if you were okay with that, man, I just thought that since-”

“You’re fine, Taylor,” Link says, and he finds that he truly means it. “Just surprised me, is all.”

“Really?” Taylor asks. “Not too weird or like, awkward for you?”

“I mean, we’re both wearing socks, aren’t we?” Link jokes. “It feels pretty nice, actually.”

“Well c’mon, then, get some of this hot half-demon bod!” Taylor says, winking as he pulls one of Link’s arms across his shoulders. 

“Mmkay,” Link mutters, the comforting supernatural heat already beginning to lull him to sleep. He turns onto his side, curling subconsciously around Taylor’s warmth, and if he was any less exhausted he might’ve realized that he was practically spooning his smaller friend. As it is, though, he pulls Taylor closer to his chest and rests his chin atop greasy black hair with a quiet “Thanks.”

And as the warmth spreads through his body, his dreams are colored with a blessedly warmer shade of gold.

[freakinator]

finally watching minute's how i became immortal vid and wow i completely forgot that early clown and leo had gold trim sets

[steakout-05]

staffy expectations vs staffy reality (by someone who has an absolute sweetheart of an american staffy <3)

[von-karmas-a-bitch]

something you have to know about me is that i am obsessed with the unexplored dynamic between franziska and sebastian after the events of investigations 2. another thing you have to know about me is that sometimes i write ace attorney scripts in my notes app for funsies. and yet another thing you must know about me is that i am a trans sebastian truther first and a human being second

(transcript in alt text)