#samathekittycat

[scribbling-dragon]

22 with ranchers? >:)

all my love will be your breath

summary:

The first sign that something is wrong. That something is going to go wrong, is the prickling pain in his hand. Tango flexes his fingers a few times when the sensation reaches him, attempting to shake off the pins and needles as he continues working. The first flash of biting cold has him gasping, hand spasming as the pencil slips from his fingers. It clatters loudly onto the half-finished door he’s using as a makeshift table.

(ao3 link)

(3,085 words)

haha some good ol' ranchers angst. haven't written anything for double life in a hot minute so here you go! this was done for these writing requests - which are still open if you have any (and i am still working on the prompt i have left!!)

The first sign that something is wrong. That something is going to go wrong, is the prickling pain in his hand. Tango flexes his fingers a few times when the sensation reaches him, attempting to shake off the pins and needles as he continues working.

His hands ache, his arms sore from the work he’s been doing all day to fix up their ranch, just a little bit. A significant portion of the nearby forest has been cut down in his efforts to rebuild their farmhouse better than before. The previous iteration had been ugly, but good enough to house them. This new version – one that he’s actually drawn plans and created measurements for – will be better than the previous one could have ever been.

He pauses in his sketching; alterations of the farmhouse had to be made, when he realised that it would be too complex to complete within the time frame he currently has. He wanted to complete it before Jimmy returned from his mining session, wanted to have something to show off to him.

It’s a stupid thing to want, but he wants it nonetheless, and it’s looking good. Like it might be finished before night even begins to set in.

Progress has been helped along by Grian lending a helping hand – a helping axe, rather. It’s obvious what he’s going for, attempting to mend the burned bridges between their pairs. Tango had accepted the help with gritted teeth and a strained smile, willing to set aside his own anger for the sake of finishing the house before Jimmy returns.

He shakes his hand again, the bones in his wrist shifting with the force he uses, hoping to dissipate the feeling so he can return to his drawings. Instead of disappearing, the sensation only strengthens, until his entire hand is numb.

The first flash of biting cold has him gasping, hand spasming as the pencil slips from his fingers. It clatters loudly onto the half-finished door he’s using as a makeshift table. That, coupled with his not-so quiet gasp, draws attention to him.

“You alright?” Grian calls over from beside the log pile. He’s stripping the bark from them, forming them into neater planks than Tango would be capable of making with his own hands. He is not designed for the intricate details that builders manage to achieve, preferring complex and sprawling arrays – who has the patience to make sure every single plank is the exact same size? Grian apparently does, and it’s also why he shooed Tango away, his need for aesthetics overriding any sensible thought of this is someone I might have to fight to the death, why should I be helping him? apparently.

Tango isn’t going to comment on it. Not when it will probably reduce the draught that had forced him and Jimmy into one bed, beneath several blankets, to huddle and conserve warmth.

Simply the thought of that evening of closeness, of the quiet, stifled giggles and curling warmth that had nestled somewhere deep within his chest and not yet left is enough to make him feel warm from the inside out, the ends of his hair curling into small flames.

“I'm fine,” he grits out, registering the echoing silence that has stretched between him and Grian, the way the other still watches him, remaining fixated on the side of his face until he responds.

“Uh huh,” Grian tips his head to the side in a very bird-like manner, a wry smile crossing his lips. “Then why are your hands shaking?”

Are they?

He hadn’t even noticed, both hands beginning to shiver and tremble, phantom pains no longer sparking over the backs of his hands and into the fine bones of his wrists. He flexes them experimentally, coming to the chilling conclusion that he can’t feel his hands at all.

Whatever it is that Jimmy’s experiencing, it’s left him with little feeling in his hands. Something that is beginning to crawl up his arms further. It’s startling and uncomfortable and- and not something that should be happening at all.

He feels out along the bond that tethers him to his other half, feeling along the string that has only strengthened during their time here. He pulses something resembling curiosity and worry along it, transmitting the feelings in the same way a redstone line would transmit a signal.

He still doesn’t understand how it works, and Grian is vague with the details of how it all works.

Tango doesn’t think even he knows, thinks this is all something that has spiralled a little out of Grian’s control, into something that he’s still grasping for, still attempting to regain control of. Either that, or his bond with Scar is frayed enough that he cannot transmit anything at all; his lack of knowledge originates not from a lack of control, but from a place of not experiencing it at all.

He waits a few, tense moments after sending the question across, waiting for a response. Any kind of response.

He crumples beneath the weight of what is returned to him, the sheer panic and pain radiating through to him is enough to make his head ache. He cradles it in his hands, in his numb, cold hands, and struggles not to cry out.

He can taste blood in his mouth, though whether that is his own sensation or something from Jimmy is unknown.

“Woah,” someone skids on the grass beside him, coming to an abrupt halt. “You are clearly not alright.”

“Gee, thanks for that,” he bites back, teeth flashing as he glares up at Grian. “What might’ve given you that idea?”

“There’s no need to be so rude,” Grian bites back, wings ruffling in clear agitation. “Now, are you going to tell me what’s wrong or should I just leave?”

Tango remains silent, staring mulishly at the ground he’s currently kneeling on. The grass is charred and ashy; somewhat of a relief that it cannot catch fire again, with the sparks jumping from his flicking tail.

“Fine,” Grian heaves himself back to his feet, the knees of his jeans stained with ash and soot. He brushes at them a few times, something that Tango watches from the corner of his eye, but only succeeds in smearing the ash further over his jeans and onto the palms of his hands. “I’ll leave you to it. Come find me if you improve your attitude.”

Tango feels regret as soon as Grian starts walking away, dead grass crunching beneath his feet.

He opens his mouth to call out behind him, beginning to rise to his feet before a burning sensation floods up his arms. It brings him low again, down to his knees once more in the wreckage of his home.

He cries out wordlessly, the sound transforming into a snarl at the end of it as he bites down on his tongue, embarrassed and frustrated with his own inability to do anything.

He wanted to fix this, wanted to repair the home that he and Jimmy had begun to call theirs, something that belonged only to them. And yet he failed at that, unable to even lift a pencil to fix this.

The burning fades fast, quick enough that he’s left choking on his own breath, throat constricting painfully as he shoves himself upwards.

His head collides with someone’s chin in his haste, and both of them fall back. He glares at Grian, who winces and then glares right back at him. “I just bit my tongue because of you.”

“And? What were you doing so close?”

“Checking to make sure you weren’t about to keel over.”

“I'm fine,” he sniffs. He stands up slower this time, ears flicking back and forth anxiously. He doesn’t know what it is travelling across to him, only registering the numbing pain that’s beginning to snake up his arms again, biting cold against his skin. But there’s something wrong, that much is easy to figure out. “I need to find Jimmy.”

“Obviously,” Grian scoffs. “Where’d he go?”

“Mining.”

Grian gives him a flat look. “You’ll have to give a few more details than that – where did he go? How long did he say he was going to be? What was he going to get.”

“Why do you care?” he snaps. He turns around then and there, shoving his way through the gate, wood clattering behind him as it bounces back into position from where he shoved it. It clicks open a moment later as Grian follows him out.

“Because I'm going to help you,” he says.

“Oh yeah?” Tango doesn’t even bother to turn and face him, heading in the direction he remembers watching Jimmy disappear in. He’d been walking with a pep in his step, and Tango may have been slightly distracted by watching the way the rising sun silhouetted him, the way it framed his face just so-

Heat lances up his arms again, curling around his elbows, gone as quickly as it was there, as though someone dumped a bucket of water over the burning. The blistering cold returns moments later, hands beginning to tremble once more.

Grian snatches at one of his hands, both thumbs pressing into the palm and forcing his claws to splay out. “Hey!” He attempts to tug his hand out of Grian’s grip, but it just turns bruising in its strength and he halts his struggles as quickly as they had begun. He doesn’t want to cause Jimmy more pain than he’s already experiencing, even if his hand is almost completely numb by now. “What are you doing!”

“You have frostbite,” Grian shoves his hand in his face. “Your fingers are turning purple. How did you not notice?”

“I don't know if you’ve noticed, but my claws are dark anyway,” he yanks his hand free from Grian’s grip, and the other man lets him this time. Allows him to retreat a small distance away and observe his hands himself. He grits his teeth and suppresses a small growl when he realises that Grian is right. He’d just been too stupid to notice it before.

“He’s somewhere cold,” Grian surmises.

“Wow, give it up for the genius over here,” he mutters. He thought it was quiet enough that Grian wouldn’t have heard him, but he still turns on Tango with a furious glare.

“I’m helping you,” Grian hisses out. “Be a little more grateful.”

“You're atoning for your soulmate,” Tango fires back. “Don't make up something when we all know it’s a lie. Why even bother when you're one bad situation away from abandoning him entirely?”

He halts the moment the words spill past his lips, born of frustration rather than anything more malicious. Still, it has the effect he was going for a few moments ago – before his rational thinking and decision-making capabilities caught up with him – and Grian’s face closes off, going dark and angry.

“You don't mean that,” Grian tells him. “And you don't know what you're talking about either.”

“Fine, maybe I don't,” he acquiesces. He won’t apologise, not when Grian won’t accept it from him, but he can still feel a little guilty. “But I also don't want to be stood around chatting about this while Jimmy- dies! Or whatever it is!”

“Freezes to death,” Grian corrects. Then pauses and lights up, turning on Tango with none of his previous anger, an inspired gleam in his eye. “Frozen!” He yells, like that makes any sense at all, gives him any clue to whatever leap of logic Grian just made.

“Uh,” he says smartly. “What?” And winces a moment later, heart thudding hard in his chest as the cold retreats for a moment, before cascading back in like- like snowfall. Like snowfall! “Frozen!” He yells back at Grian, grinning like an idiot before he gasps, chest stuttering with the panic that pulses over to him, flooding his senses with a nervous energy.

“The mountain is this way,” Grian tells him, yelling slightly with the frantic energy that has overtaken the two of them. Tango wouldn’t consider them allies – wouldn’t consider them even friendly after Scar’s little escapade at their ranch, but maybe they could start something somewhat like an alliance after this? Provided they manage to find Jimmy. Provided that they're even right. “Come on, come on!”

“I'm coming, I'm coming!” He breaks into a sprint, even as his chest feels as though it’s being compressed, something heavy weighing down on his ribs and preventing his lungs from expanding properly. The burning in his throat and his lungs only spurs him on further, legs turning numb from both the cold and the exertion as he makes the first leap up the craggy clifface of the mountain.

A blur of colour shoots up past him, Grian splaying his wings out when he reaches the top to slow his descent, touching down delicately as Tango continues his mad scramble up the side. His numb hands falter a few times, but he digs his claws in a little harder as he climbs further, easing himself into it until he’s as familiar with the rocks as a mountain goat.

Grian hops from foot to foot at the top, and as much as Tango wants to haul himself over the edge and lay there for several hours, maybe even a lifetime, he shoves himself upwards onto his feet as soon as he can, ignores the burning of everything. The burning that could be him but could also be Jimmy -wherever he is.

It doesn’t take them long.

Not with the laughter travelling clearly through the cold air, carried to them on a sharp wind. He doesn’t even need to think it through before he veers in the direction of the voices, the taunting that reaches his ears.

He flares so hot that it probably reaches Jimmy over their bond, and clears a circle of snow around him.

“Oh, look who’s arrived!” Joel turns to him with a smile, arms outstretched. “Took you long enough.”

“What are you doing?” He can see Grian backing up from him out the corner of his eye, but can’t find it in himself to care as he flares up. He doesn’t even care if he sets fire to this whole damn forest. All he can focus on is the slight movement of snow at Joels’ feet.

“Nothing,” Joel shrugs. Scar, behind him, at least has the decency to look guilty…Scar?

He whirls on Grian. “You knew?”

“What!” Grian shrieks out, outraged and shocked all at once. “How was I meant to know! Why do you even think I knew?”

“Scar’s here!” he yells, gesturing towards the offending person. “You're telling me he ran off and you didn’t think to check where he’d gone?”

“I was helping you all day! How was I meant to know he came up here to do something like this?”

Tango hisses out a breath filled with smoke and a little flame, uncaring of the way soot coats the inside of his mouth and the back of his teeth. He can scrub the taste away later, when his hands are no longer numb and his heart doesn’t feel as though it’s going to break to pieces.

He surges forward, ducking beneath Joel’s arm when he tries to block him and plunging a hand into the powdered snow. He scrambles around, ignoring the yelling that starts up behind him, grasping and reaching blindly until he finally finds something solid amongst the numbing cold.

He holds on tighter and yanks backwards, using his body weight to pull Jimmy free from the snow. He falls back with the force, when the snow finally releases its victim, allowing him free of the snowy prison he’d been trapped in for however long.

He’s shuddering so hard that Tango’s afraid, for several long moments, that he might just vibrate out of his skin, teeth chattering so hard he might bite off his tongue.

He pays this little mind, pulling Jimmy close to himself and stoking the fire in his core as much as he can, pressing his forehead to Jimmy’s, wincing at the clammy feel of it. He sits there, in his circle of melted snow until Jimmy blinks his frosted lashes open, squinting up at him.

“Hey,” is all he says.

“Don't hey me,” he bites out, frustration from a source of worry and fear and panic and everything but anger, stress making him feel like he’s on the edge of some great drop; any movement would send him over the edge, and then he might do something even more stupid like start sobbing right here. “I didn’t know where you were,” he tells Jimmy quietly. It’s loud enough to carry, now that the yelling behind them has stopped.

Tango doesn’t turn to check on their companions, focusing only on Jimmy, on the way his extremities are no longer purple with cold, returning to a slightly more healthy pink tint, cheeks rosy with the cold.

He steels his resolve then and stands, ignores the small sound of panic that Jimmy makes, the way his cold hands wrap around the back of his neck, as though Tango would ever drop him. His arms are beginning to burn with exhaustion, muscles trembling, but he refuses to release Jimmy. Not when he’d almost slipped away from Tango completely.

He ignores the apologetic look from Grian, ignores the guilty one from Scar. Ignores Joel entirely.

Jimmy presses his face against his neck, speaking words that Tango can only make out because of how close they are. Words spoken so close to his skin that they're almost branded into it. “I can walk,” he says, embarrassment colouring his voice and his face.

“I know.”

“Then…”

“I want to carry you,” a stray feather brushes against the exposed skin of his neck, brushes just below his chin in a way that makes him shiver. “Besides, I think you're quite enjoying this, aren’t you?” he teases, hoping that it might make Jimmy smile, at least a little.

The embarrassment and flustering will keep him warm until they're back at the ranch, where Tango can wrap him in blankets and offer him warm drinks. And maybe he’ll sit alongside Jimmy, within that cocoon of blankets, warm him with the flame stoked somewhere deep in his chest.

Jimmy tightens his grip, though it is no longer from fear of being dropped, and more to press himself closer to Tango. To his warmth.

Despite himself, Tango flushes, and prays that Jimmy can’t feel it.

[risingsunresistance]

Congratulations on survival that orbit around the sun yesterday 🎊👍

anyone else relate to this image

[rachelsquill]

1:A and 30:A 👀

1) song with a color in it

GOLD GUN GIRLS!!!! YIPPEEE ive liked this song for a long while and now its such a c!quackity song

30) song that reminds you of yourself

erm i realize a lot of songs reminding me of myself are sad/depressing oopsies

[h3adph0nez]

My favourite SFTH live stream clips - Part 2 as promised @samathekittycat :)

(Disclaimer : I found all of these clips in the SFTH Discord, I just edited them together. That means that sadly I could not tell you from what streams these are from. I do want to note that @i-may-be-an-emu said that he would be willing to help!)

[plutoprophecy]

10 songs, 10 people

Put your music on shuffle and list the first ten songs that come up, then tag ten people

Thank u for the tag, @zaahvi !! <3

They Might Be Giants - Twisting

Florence + The Machine - Blinding

After The Fire - Der Komissar

Tom Rosenthal - Have We Met Before?

AURORA - Winter Bird

The Hoosiers - Cops and Robbers

The Happy Fits - Cold Turkey

Noah Floersch - Ghost of Chicago

Cage the Elephant - It's Just Forever

Wunderhorse - Epilogue

Tagging: @highonairtm @abstractredd @cicerosfavouritelistener @inthecrevicesofmycrispytoes @salamansir @aphocryphas @bethrnoora @xyrnys @sam-the-moth @samathekittycat

[bugsinthebayou]

@fawkesthefox @samathekittycat fish person!! calypso nudibranch :3

[death-by-the-land]

thank you for the tag @mandycantdecide !!

just made myself but if you wanna make a character (oc or not) feel free!!

I FORGOR TH E FUCKIN LINK:

@tfiv @aesrot @iamanoccasionaldoodler @coraliewhodraw @oreidam1014 @catboy-wax @samathekittycat

[foundfamilyarena]

(Submissions are now closed <3)

Hello one and all!

Welcome to the Found Family Fight (tournament)!

Inspired by the many.. many tournaments I've seen such as @aroaceswagcompetition @autismswagsummit @siblingtournament @two-of-them-tournament @magnificent-mlm-matchup etc.

And the sudden desire to find one for found family, realized there weren't any that i could find, now boom this exists

Also my friend @samathekittycat encouraged me <3

Anyways!

RULES

-No harry potter or real people! But if you wanted to submit stories that yters have made that features their name or something but isn't them, thats okay.

-Please don't submit the same found family multiple times, you can submit multiple found families, you probably know.

-There will be at least one automatically submitted because it's my blog and i am doing this for fun, but i will not reveal who because i want to see the data

-Propaganda welcomed & encouraged as long as you're not jerks about it!

-Ask me anything if you're confused or have a question!

OKAY here it is go wild (if anyone sees this fnjskdkd)

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSds4w-WHWYeKeUQFy94OAbZMn0y-SxVZENV1FKp_XXUzEUWkA/viewform?usp=sf_link

[syzygy-podfic-project]

Cast List Announcement!

Casting auditions are over and they were an absolute blast! I am so excited to get this project underway, and I know I have an awesome cast that I'll be working with! Without further ado, here is the official cast list!

Thomas - @always-anais

Janus - @dragonsaphirareads

Logan - @etherealseashores

Patton - @astrowillscreamintothevoid

Virgil - @sometimes-love-is-enough

Roman & Juice - @samathekittycat

Remus - @cashmeredragon

Mary-Lee - @kieraelieson

Joan & Lee - @silvermoon617

[greghatecrimes]

A while ago, I made a post about what I think the PPTH gang would order at Starbucks. This post by @housethemd had me thinking Coffee Thoughts again about House & co., so here are some thoughts about what I think it would be like to have them as customers in my cafe.

At work, there's regulars (people that come in often enough that I recognize their face), and there's THE regulars (customers that come in so regularly that I know their name, order, a couple details about their life/them as a person, and usually have a pleasant conversation with while they're ordering). For this, I'm operating under the assumption that all of the House characters would fall into the latter group (because they're all doctors at a busy hospital. Any hospital job usually goes for so. much. caffeine).

Cameron probably comes in the most frequently out of anyone, but the baristas would all know her solely as Allie. She'd be one of the regulars that makes having the early-morning opening shift worth it, because she's genuinely always happy to talk with you (and almost always carries cash so she can give you a tip directly). She'd ask how you're doing and remember little details from your conversations (like music you said you liked, or your major/degree if you ever mentioned college). She has a favorite drink for every season (Pumpkin Spice Lattes for fall, Peppermint Mochas for winter, etc.) and is so consistent with her orders that at every open, whoever's working marks a cup for her drink and sets it aside for when she comes in. At least once during "buy one get one half off" sales, she'd buy two of whatever's on sale just to give the second one (or both) to whoever's working at the time.

Chase would probably come in at least a couple of times per week. For some reason, he'd make his appointed Starbucks/café name "Bob" instead of Robert/Rob/Robbie, and every single barista he's met would agree that "there's no way his name is actually Bob. He's way too attractive for that." My coworkers (somewhat surprisingly, not a group of college-aged girls. We are a group of incredibly gay and/or trans 20-somethings LMAO) would absolutely talk about how hot he is when he's not around and swoon over the accent (if there's a list of Hottest Regulars, he's absolutely #1). He'd mention having a girlfriend and order coffee for her occasionally, but everyone would refuse to believe she existed until they saw her for themselves. One day he'd come in with Cameron, and it would make the barista group text explode. (Bob and Allie know each other? And not only that, but Bob and Allie are actually... Bob-And-Allie?! Allie is the mysterious girlfriend?!) There would be full on MOURNING. At least one person would joke about calling in sick from the grief of Aussie Golden Retriever Boyfriend's girlfriend being real. Inexplicably, he'd enjoy Taylor Swift's music and the baristas would love him even more for that.

More characters to come in another post :) I'm thinking probably House, Wilson, and Cuddy next? (Also: thank you to @samathekittycat for your tags on the reblog of the House frappuccino post; it was a small thing but the eyes emoji gave me the motivation to get a bunch of stuff done so I could come back and write this, lol)

[sansxfuckyou]

"I think he would like the pink."

So I was thinking about the cherry biome release date and I just, I wanted to draw something because of that, don't know why. I know I'm what, twenty seven days late, but it's still a contribution to the memory of him, so, I'd say it counts even though it's not perfect. I usually don't draw a lot, but I do like to do mixed media, so please excuse how shoddy Techno looks because I never really draw humanoids, mainly backdrops and scenery if ever.

Anyways, stuff I used to make it: pencil, marker, oil pastel, water color (dry on dry), and colored pencils! Most prominent being the water colors and least prominent being the pencil crayons

Tagging @h3xt0r @sobredunia @samathekittycat @plutoprophecy @lucifers-golden-bitch-apparently and @disasterofahuman because fuck it I worked hard on that art and I want everyone in the mutual tree house to see it

Also I splurged and wrote a ficlet to go with it, I assure you the quality of the fic is better than the art-

Techno gave a sigh as his hand ghosts through the stem of a pink flower, they were so small, so fragile and delicate. And he supposed that now he also was, stuck in this pseudo ghost form. His sense of touch and mortality comes and goes, but he can't be snuffed from this existence, so long as he's remembered. Even when his mortality is strong and he can touch and feel and live, a drop won't kill him nor will an arrow jutting through his skull.

He didn't know this biome existed, he didn't know there was a place so pink. He's shocked that the animals don't turn pink with how much they graze on petals. Cherry trees and Sakura petals litter the air as he drifts through the fields, it's like looking in a distorted mirror. So many hues of pink and magenta, like his skin, his hair, and his eyes, he loves it. He's aware his cape is phasing through the grass as it drags on the ground, velvet red fabric trailing behind him, the animals are curious. The rabbits stare at him from burrows betwixt roots, the bees flutter around his form curiously, and the pigs, they simply saunter past him.

He smiles a bit as he takes a seat on the ground below him, the sensation of the grass jutting into his form still makes him cringe. He knows it's only pressing into the memory of his form, the outline of what people saw him as- he barely grasps his own memories. He still doesn't like the way it feels having grass, twigs and leaves pass through his skin. He waits patiently for the creatures to crowd him, bees land on the petals around him, he raises a hand to brush across the striped fuzz. The bug doesn't shy away, it's like he doesn't even exist, Technos smile falters for a moment.

He gives another sigh as he stands up and leaves his space in the depths of the grove. The grass starts to give under his boots, his physicality returning even if only for a brief moment. His pace picks up just a bit, he can feel the holster of his sword hit his leg as it jostles, he usually can't. He's alive again, but he might as well be dead at the same time, just with a body and a mind left over in the process. He can feel his legs move as he walks, he can feel his breathing enter and exit. His chest rises and falls, the fabric against his skin is there and real once more. He has hands to grab stuff again, hands that'll actually work when he tries to grab stuff at that.

He's quick to trail them across the bark of the tree trunks and the petals of the cherry trees, the textures are there, he's not just phasing through them. The bark is a dark shade, nearly black and where it peels back he can see that the flesh of the tree is faintly pink. He let's his nails dig into it and the fresh wood gives under his touch ever so slightly, it's damp and soft, not suitable for building with. But he wouldn't mind a pink house, or one with pink highlights at least, it wouldn't be that bad.

Then he's climbing up a hill, one a bit steeper than he had accounted for. But the dirt under his nails and catching on his cape and his feet pressing into soft ground as he climbs make up for it. It feels like life again, what he remembers, the slight burn across his tendons, it's adrenaline. He misses adrenaline, the rush of blood as he comes further up the edge of the mountain, it's so familiar yet so distant and all he can do is hope his physicality doesn't falter.

When he makes it to the top he's heaving his breath, hands on his knees as he leans forward, trying to regain some oxygen in his body. His face is burning and his pulse is racing, he hasn't had a strain on his body (even though it's light compared too fights he's fought) in so very, very long. It feels good, even as he hobbles over to sit down next to a tree, he crosses his legs, one over the other. He's grinning, he doesn't know why though, it just feels good to be real again, he's sure that it'll fade soon enough.

But he loves it so much, to be real in a place with so much pink.

"You good man?" Sapnap asked gently as he sat down next to Dream, the latter gave a nod.

"Fine," Dream answered with quietly, staring at the grove of trees in front of them, down at the base of the sloping mountain they built into.

Sapnap placed a hand on Dreams back, "You sure about that? You've been awfully quiet since we got here."

Dream gave a sigh, "I'm sure."

Sapnap nods, "Alright."

He follows Dreams gaze into the orchard of cherry trees and Sakura blossoms. His hands drop to tug at the hem of his shirt, unsure of what to say as an uneasy silence falls over them. He catches a glimpse of Georges familiar outfit, bright blues that stand out against the green of the grass. He's practically running up the hill, bundle of flowers in hand, bright pink petals and twigs. He has to stop and heave his breath when he makes it back up, falling back and sitting on the opposite side of Dream.

He props himself up on his elbows, "Found some flowers," he hands them to Sapnap who gives a brief thanks.

"Hey George," Dream begins, George gives a hum of acknowledgement, "Do you think he'd like this place?"

It takes George a moment to fully register the words, but he nods, "Definitely," He fully sits up and leans against Dream a little bit, "It's really nice down there."

Dream doesn't respond right away, focusing more on mechanizing his breath than reminiscing. It's something better to focus on than memories of days past, "It looks nice."

"Yeah, wonder if there's any cherries down there," Sapnap said gently, he let go of the hem of his shirt, returning his hand to Dreams back and nudging a little bit.

No response from Dream, Georges smile falters, Sapnap feels a little bit worried.

"Are you feeling alright?" George asked gently, he nudged Dreams shoulder a little bit.

Dream nods, "I'm fine, I just," He pauses to take a breath, "I think he would like the pink."

George and Sapnap share glances of mild concern.

"He probably would," George said softly.

"He'd probably want us to go check it out instead of sulking too," Sapnap added on almost nervously, he got a glare from George.

Dream gave a weak chuckle, "You're right," he heaved a sigh as he stood up, "Let's go check it out."

[cursedthing]

.last line challenge woooo!!

.tagged by miss @peregrine5 ! Thanks for the tag, this looks fun :]

.Rules of the challenge as follows: "in a new post, show the last line you wrote or drew, then tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you like!)"

.alrighty gonna show th last drawn line first! It's a concept for Kitchen Table ^_^

.we wanted to like, make the design simple as they ARE literally just bones and sculk. that's what you get when you take the nearest corpse near you and just start puppeting it! As for the clothes it has a simple head bandana thing and a cloak, ddidn't really want to have 'em have a proper outfit since that complicates thing when merging with the remaining sculk and traveling through it (you already gotta like, transport all the bones then quickly rearrange them in the right order, clothes would just be a hassle so. simple cloak and bandana!)

.anyways now for the written line!

.oh to see another, the same, like us, but they're different, we take notice. And we just wonder; "are you kind?"

.aaaaand tagging @d-e-w-p @samathekittycat @souplover13 @fearforthestorm @sotoro-ma aaand anyone who wants to join in! :D

[kitsu-katsu]

I'm gonna make this post as condenaed and abridged brainrot to explain why Victor Frankenstein is my boy from 200 yr old media prompted by a tag question from @samathekittycat in a post I reblogged because that highjacking would've been too much

So. Basically every adaptation ever is way off, Victor in the og novel is a guy from a rich family, yes, but one that has it's own fucked up occurrences that shape him even though he says his life is the peak of idyllic and that can lead to really good character analysis

He becomes an alchemy fanatic at 13, completely obsesses over it, even harder when his father claims the whole subject to be trash and he's in general somewhat fascinated by natural occurrences as well, so he gets it into his head that he wants to change the world by attaining the alchemist dream of basically defeating death, and this is all exacerbated when he's about to be sent away to study in Ingolstadt at 17 and just days before his mother dies of an illness his cousin-sister-future wife (it's complicated, it's a whole mess with hiw mother's involvement too) contracted first, so his trip is delayed a bit, but he never really processes his grief and is not that interested in actual science at first until a professor he meets there validates the alchemists ambition and he starts to hyperfixate on science so bad he's surpassed his professors in 2 years, and with all this baggage, at 19, he decides he's going to decode the secrets of death basically, because as he sees it at this point, if applied enough in the right direction with a scientific method any mediocre man could change society

So he builds his creatire after 2 years of isolating himself completely to do it, so he finishes it at like 21, and the thing is, the guy basically did all of this in a hyperfocused state he started at 19 and influenced by All That Baggage and grief he has Not Processed, so he wasn't really thinking about the consequences of anything. So his creature opens its eyes and suddenly the weight and terror of everything falls upon him along with a good mix of uncanny valley, and he just. Collapses. He sleeps a bit, his creature's still there, and he's so scared he runs away from his dorm room and by chance meets with his bff who was back in Geneva with the rest of his family he hasn't talked to in 2 whole years, his creature sneaks out while this is happening, and when going back, Victor is so mentally collapsed and strained and also scared he mighr be called crazy that he's just glad that the creature's gone and enters a fragile state where he's just completely physically sick and done for for a Big While, he can't take care of himself anymore and can't even look at anything relatingnto science anymore

When he's getting better, he has to go back to Geneva because his brother died. Whoah-oh, it was the Creature. He confronts it eventually and it asks for a bride and promises to go away with her, this is a Whole Conflict, because Victor can't reveal what he knows or he'll be labelled insane, he also doesn't wanna finish the bride because she'll also be her own person and what if she doesn't wanna run away with og Creature as his bride? While all of this is happening, one family servant is being accused of the murder and trialed, Victor is squealing in a corner

Basically, he's very autistic, he's seen a hysteric, his creation of the Creature can be analyzed from so many different angles, from teenage pregnancy and postpartum depression, trans experiences (both transmasc and transfemme! I've seen excellent analysis from both perspectives, though I have a personal bias towards the transmasc reading), the process of artist in general (like, that point when you start drawing something and you start zooming into every detail for hours and once you zoom out again you realize you don't like how it came out at all even though you put so much time into it), his illnesses and disabilities both mental and physical are really interestingly depicted as well, overall, he's a very meaty character who was FAR from making everything right, in fact, he did a lot wrong, but he's also a victim of his circumstances, a teen/young adult in the whole duration of the thing, and is suffering tons of pressure from everywhere while losing his purpose and selse of self to his opposition to his own creation. They are the definition of "they can make eachother worse" and Victor loses everything. He's a tragedy. A tragedy that a lot of people wanna ignore and just say he's plain evil because the Creature must be plain good and they feel smart if they say the typical "Small brain: Frankenstein was the monster vs Big brain: Frankenstein was the scientist, not the monster vs Galaxy brain: Frankenstein was the monster all along" and they completely skip out on all the depth this character has

I went super aurface level in a lot of parts here, but I hope it's somewhat understandable

I recommend reading the novel though! It's Good

[spifal]

MY BELOVEDS!!!

@krystal-twi @emo-and-confused @samathekittycat @kiiraes @lil-lite-in-the-darkness @helpicant-stop @lab-labrava @yidpunk @sunbeamsystem @anaussiefan @gog-urt @ekuboo @moonlightink7 @shandycandy278 @mobpsycho100fan @fardf150 @drunkwalkhme @gaiussaidno @astronomical-bagel @dogin8 @peaked-in-third-grade @recycledcactus @ori-stole-the-cheese-again @wallowaffles @tempperi @gaiussaidno @soon-ded @mitknnen @theoin-ghosttown @kleprer

[anaalnathrakhs]

tagged by @robinsnest2111 ty bestie <3

3 ships you like: pinkiedash, hellcheer, leverage ot3

Honorable mention: any ship dynamic involving mick mars

First ship ever: in a fandom kind of way, probably uhhh soarindash. also because of youtube pmvs. obviously.

Last song you heard: smth off of "Lower the Bar" because i'm on a massive steel panther kick rn

Favourite childhood book: i loved multiple of Claude Ponti's books, and they've definitely influenced my psyche a lot

Currently reading: many many things. too many to count. i'm really not reading fast these days.

Currently watching: still leverage technically, but it seems the website i was using went down :(

Currently craving: entertainment

tagging uhh @tulipcolouredboy @hysterionic @electricpentacle @samathekittycat @possibly-in-wonderland idk feel free to use that tag if you wish

[samathekittycat]

i'm sleeby, squinting, and made this on my phone but it's READY

submit your name in the tournament for the chance of calling yourself my meow meow