#she does go to the lake

[softquietsteadylove]

Would love to read more form the wildfire one? Maybe something funny and soft?

"Thena?"

She jumped, fumbling with the key in her hands. She managed to catch it, at least. Gil did give her this key himself, after all. It was quite a leap of faith, considering how isolated anyone and everyone was out here.

"Everything okay?" Gil asked as he closed his truck door and walked up his driveway to the cabin.

She fidgeted with the key in her hands. She had somewhat been hoping to slip in and out while he was on duty, maybe at the station. She was going to leave him something as a thanks, of course! But she had been hoping to...keep to herself.

"Yeah, everything's fine," she insisted, still somewhat more agitated than he usual demeanour. She gripped her key, "sorry to...drop in."

"No, it's okay," Gil shook his head, smiling slowly, "that's why I gave you the spare."

She had been cleared to return to patrol weeks ago. And as her parting gift, she had left him a little bear carving she had made. It was crude and rough, but in her own words, she had little option for whittling lessons when she was stuck in his fucking bed all day.

In return, he had given her a spare key to the cabin, saying she could come any time she needed a break from the wilderness.

"How was duty?" she asked in hopes of appearing more normal, even moving aside as Gil used his own key on his belt clip to get in.

"Pretty routine," he smiled and spoke over his shoulder, a subconscious invitation for her to follow him in. "Not too many idiots looking to start a fire when it's this wet out."

"Hm," she nodded as she stepped into the both eerily and comfortingly familiar cabin behind him. Despite any and all circumstances, it smelled like home. Well, it smelled like 'a' home, whether hers or not was beside the point.

"Are you hungry?" Gil asked, still fishing for the reason to find her at his doorstep at the end of the workday. "I can make something."

"Uh," she paused, her eyes darting away just for a second, "y-yeah, that would be nice, Gil."

He gave her this look, like she was trying to bullshit her way out of something. He crossed those stupid arms of his and shifted his weight on his feet, "that'd be...nice?"

She rolled her eyes at him, "I can't be fucking nice?"

"You can be nice," he countered easily with a chuckle. If anything, she doubted that was the true part. "But that's not what you're here for."

She looked up at the ceiling, which also felt very familiar to her. Why was this so hard?--why did it feel so embarrassing to say? "I was hoping...to use the shower."

That obviously surprised Gil, and she couldn't even blame him a little bit for it. "The shower?"

She sighed, feeling as if he'd unearthed this horrible thing about her, when really it was very logical! "I guess I got used to it - or something - while I was here. Sometimes it's hard to go back to the lake knowing I could have nice warm water for it again."

"Right," he nodded slowly, visibly thinking through whatever litany of things he had on the brain. She had told him about going to the lake to bathe, and he had of course very chivalrously asked if that was safe for her. Guy was a gentleman even in hypotheticals.

"I mean," she cleared her throat, unsure herself as to why she was still explaining herself. There was a time when she would have walked right in, used his shower as she liked, and gotten the fuck out of there. And she wouldn't have felt the need to tell him shit either. "It won't be every time. Just, uh, it was pretty cold today and-"

"Thena."

God, those eyes were just so brown, and big and sad looking--like a puppy whining to be loved. She rolled her eyes at him, which was basically a physical reflex of hers, now.

"Use it any time you want," he shook his head, as if he couldn't believe she would even feel the need to ask. He uncrossed his arms, "when I said use your key any time, I meant it. I had it made for you and everything."

Fuck. That was...really sweet. Thena looked down at the key in her hands, her gut twisting and flipping and doing all sorts of things. She gulped, "fuck."

He just chuckled.

She tried to look him in the eyes, but her gaze kept sliding around everywhere else. "Thanks, Gil, that's...really nice."

"I did tell you that before you left, right?" he tilted his head, and there was the asshole who liked to tease her about her sweater habits and tell some of the worst jokes she'd ever heard in her life. "Or did I hallucinate that morning we had breakfast and you even let me hug-"

"Okay, okay, dry your eyes, Mister Sentimental. I'm just gonna wash my disgusting hair and be on my way."

"Your hair is beautiful."

"Hm?" she looked back before dropping her bag in the bathroom. She tilted her head; she couldn't have heard what she thought she heard. "Sorry, what-?"

"Spaghetti--do you want spaghetti?" he asked, also halfway into the kitchen, over his shoulder.

She must have heard wrong. She nodded, "uh, yeah, that's--sure."

"Okay."

"Okay."

The two stared one another down for another second before continuing on. Thena set her bag down and unclipped it to fish out her fresh clothes. She tried to replay what she had thought she heard in her head but it was no clearer than the damn inkblot tests in a psych eval. "Whatever."

If he had something to say, he could say it to her face. Even if it was something like that.

[hanzajesthanza]

dressed elegantly. this will never leave my head. the implications of this.

because geralt and his company, they saddled up, left beauclair, travelled through mountains and frozen blizzards and downpours and muddy sod for two to three months. you need to pack outfits for that. you need to plan your gear.

what was the rest of the company wearing? what did they pack for this long journey? they packed practically, dressed warmly for the frozen journey of january, february, march. geralt wore a wolf-skin cloak, a scarf, a shawl… milva wore a fox-fur kalpak, angoulême wore a hat with a pompom and a sheepskin coat. cahir’s dress isn’t mentioned, but he must have been dressed similarly, because he rubs his hands briskly together and were he not dressed warmly he otherwise would have frozen to death. regis’ dress isn’t mentioned, but it is mentioned that he’s immune to the freezing temperature. so, i mean, it doesn’t matter what he’s wearing in this scene, maybe a regular outfit.

but at stygga. dressed elegantly.

so you’re telling me that. regis packed his things in preparation for their flight from beauclair, went to his quarters after geralt explained to him the satisfactory reasons they were leaving, and went,

“alright, time to prepare for this long and dangerous journey that will conclude in a great clash between our forces and the kidnappers of ciri. the end of our quest. the final journey. and a dangerous road awaits us, with snow still blocking the passes, frost and white all around. a grand fight and conflict awaits us. what gear should i prepare, what should i wear for this expedition, what kinds of clothing should i pack.”

and then he went:

“you know, i want to look fucking good ✨ when we get there 💅🏻🦇”

imagine the final preparation before they approach castle stygga. geralt sees the castle hewn out of the cliffside, effortlessly noticing every detail from far away, seeing like an eagle with his mutated eyes. and like an eagle, compelled to swoop down and snatch vilgefortz like a fish. ordering the company forward, declaring they’ve made it. this is the moment they have all been waiting for. everyone has been waiting such a long time for this. they prepared everything.

they wait until midnight. angoulême eagerly unsheathes and whets her long sabre, swings her axe around with predatory glee. cahir fits the plate armor and winged officer’s helmet he scavenged from a small nilfgaardian dispatch that they ran into extorting caravista for tax. milva tightens the same worn, polished leather bracer that she’s always had on her left arm, and mutters as she fixes her spiralled arrow fletchings over boiling water. geralt, with nothing left to do, paces and breathes, wondering where the hell regis has gone.

just then, regis walks out from behind an outcropping of rock, eyes glinting with cat-like light, in his “elegant” outfit, absolutely slaying that shit, and all his friends look at him absently like. “what the hell are you wearing. where the fuck did you get that. you packed that? you planned your outfit for the final battle, you planned this outfit in advance three months ago?” to which he counters, “well, three months isn’t very long at all,” and they’re like, “this is the preparation you made? we thought you left to do some secret vampire rituals or whatever. or to reckon with yourself for the severe violence we’re about to inflict.” and he’s like “no, i just wanted to make sure i was dressed nicely for the occasion”

[potions-of-dark-devotion]

Concerning the Death Eater Cult Under Voldemort; The First Wizarding War

What the uneducated See: Nazi Comparisons

What I see: Manson Family Vibes

Just an observation….

[vivanightcity]

We'll meet again Don't know where Don't know when But I know we'll meet again some sunny day

[toodrasticallydumb]

Oh c’mon you knew I had to.

My version of the Barbie mugshot with stricklake because I just COULD NOT get it out of my head:

This is specifically from my Trollhunter!Strickler au solely because of the white streak in Barbara’s hair lol and now that I’ve drawn it I am oh so tempted to have it be an actual scene that happens somewhere along the story…

Little snippet of the would-be scene (it's so long it got away from me, I'm sorry):

*the two are rummaging around in a very much broken into museum to find what may or not be a message from Nomura*

Barbara: Walt...?

Walter: Hm? Yes, love?

Barbara: What's that outside?

Walter, pausing for a second to listen: Oh. That would be the em...the police, my dear.

Barbara: Oh, okay, okay, excuse me, the WHAT.

Walter: ...Em. That is, I- um I suggest you hide the skathe-hrün somewhere, lest the authorities care to investigate further into what exactly it is when they take it from your person.

Barbara: So we're not even avoiding this? You know, getting arrested by the police?

Walter: Mmmm, no, unfortunately. I don't want you using the skathe-hrün (or more specifically its magic) anymore than absolutely necessary for today. You've expended yourself enough as it is.

Barbara: And getting arrested for breaking and entering is not an 'absolute necessity'???

Walter: Not particularly, it would only be a considered a second-degree burglary since it is a museum and not a residential, habitated building; which that sub-type of burglary is a 'wobbler' charge in the state of California, which equates—if it is persecuted as a misdemanor rather than a felony—to merely (at most) a year in county jail—

Barbara: A year?!

Walter: —and 1,000 dollar fine if, that is, we are found guilty by being proven to have harbored the intent to steal something, of which we did not and do not have evident by the fact neither of us pocess any given tools to break or take any item from its case. I assume this is the first time you have been accused of any given crime aside from speeding or any other driving-related violation? Without evidence of a previous criminal record we should be lined up quite well to be merely fined or, if NotEnrique can manage it (if I can bear to call upon endless embarassment and taunting), nothing at all but a slap on the wrist though I doubt we could not accomplish that on our own given our positions in the community as school teacher and doctor respectively.

Barbara: You have wings, Walt.

Walter: And mothman escaping a building with a strangely human-shaped figure in its arms is not at all a cause for alarm to the police who will no doubt be keeping close watch of all exits and entrances which would also draw unneeded attention before we can reach the proper cover of the clouds.

Barbara: *face-palms* Getting arrested. How wonderful. 'Oh, just breaking and entering, officer, not much.'

Walter: It is hardly as terrible as it sounds, really. We can omit the 'breaking' portion since we snuck in through the window without running into any trouble that would damage it. Frankly, we could go the route of claiming guilty to the crime of trespassing according to the Penal Code 602 (California's trespassing law) being that we entered the exhibit past museum hours. On top of which it is far more accurate to what we're doing in actuality, not proper burglary since we have established neither of us had the intent to run off with anything that was not ours. Doing so we would also fare far better than with a so-called 'breaking and entering' offense (such a named law does not actually exist in California, only burglary and trespassing separately but I will clasify it as the burglary law for sake of consistency) in which we would be recieving just a simple fine rather than possible felony charges that could come with a second-degree burglary we may have committed.

Barbara: Not really helping here, Walt.

Walter: Right, apologies-

Barbara: Which, of course, getting arrested is an experience you obviously know about.

Walter: The (pun intended) offense aimed against me is dully noted. However, my dear, the fact I know how the intricacies of the specific laws of California operate does not entail I have been arrested prior to this. That would be Nomura who holds the experience in that particular department.

*pause*

Barbara: Walt. Don't you dare. You stop it right there. Unless you want--

Walt: The police department. Heh. *guilty snort*

Barbara: *sends him the disappointed death glare*

Police: *break through the door* Hands up! On the ground, now!

Walter: *laying down* I hardly find my pun to have been that egregious.

Barbara, already on the floor: Really, Walt? Good puns involve good TIMING too.

Police: Dispatch, we have the two culprits in question now in our custody. *taking a pair of cuffs out* You're coming with us. You have the right to remain silent.

Walter, being actively handcuffed: Well, I suppose then, now would be the less than appropriate time to say this museum has gained quite the em...standing in the Lake family...?

Barbara, being stood up with her arms behind her back: Officers, I have no idea who this man is.

Walter: I never once said I intended to make good puns.

I made this entirely too long but once it started I couldn't really find myself stopping. Whoops. Hope you enjoyed chaotic Walt not caring about being arrested because jail is honestly the least of his problems rn. It would honestly be a break.

[aashiyancha]

Adventures in the Capitol (part 37 on Masterpost)

And here's the masterpost link if you would like to read the rest

[kayoftheshire]

right so I'm filled with the most horrible, gut wrenching dread I've ever felt. I'm so incredibly terrified of growing up. my guidance counselor and my parents are pressuring me to decide on a major for college (I'm a junior in highschool and this is expected of every student at my school) and I just don't know. the only thing I'm passionate about is having sleepovers with my best friend and laying in bed. I can't think of one job where I would wake up and go "yay! I woke up today and I get to go to this job that I love!". I don't want to be stuck in a life that I hate, I've seen it tear apart the people I love first hand. I don't even know who I am now, let alone the person I want to be. I don't know what to do and I'm afraid when it really counts I still won't know. I'm not ready to grow up, but it's not a matter of 'if' it's when. time is passing so rapidly and it kills me that I'll never be able to go back to now. if you have any words of advice, or wisdom I would greatly appreciate as I am really fucking scared right now.

[foldingfittedsheets]

I liked your witch tower comic about Ava so much and saw your tags you’re also passionate about original fairytales. I was wondering if you’d ever consider a comic for my all time favorite “their shoes danced to pieces”

Your work is lovely

Thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed.

As to that story… probably not? I tend to take each tale with an added twist, but most of the ones I’ve done were sparked by a twist that someone else suggested that I thought would be funny or gave me an idea.

They Danced Their Shoes has a few marks against it. It’s extremely long in terms of plot points that would need to be conveyed. Comics take a Really Long time to make, even short stories can take weeks to draft, ink, shade, and finalize. This story would be massive compared to any of the others I’ve done.

Its’s also not terribly well known, and the ending isn’t very happy. The cursed princes are cursed for longer, the youngest sister gets ignored, and the soldier who didn’t really do anything of merit gets a free bride.

While it’s a nice story to read, the comics I make are focused on fluff. I want to make sweet art that is a balm to all the rough parts of life. Happy endings are guaranteed.

[cultivating-saplings]

I really wish that there was more room in The Discourse for trans people who were actually their assigned genders for a while to talk about that particular experience without being treated as though they're perpetuating damaging rhetoric

like I was a girl for a long time there! I was not an especially successful girl by the gendered standards that I was expected to adhere to, but I was absolutely a weird little girl and I wish that my failure to grow up into a cis woman didn't always come with a well-meaning denial of the version of myself that I used to be

[sinecosinewheel]

ok so here's a bloodborne post. every dream or nightmare in bloodborne needs two things:

1. a host/dreamer

2. a being to create the dream

in the nightmare frontier/nightmare of mensis the dreamer is micolash and the creator is mergo.

we know for sure the nameless moon presence made the hunter's dream, and the obvious conclusion is gehrman is the dreamer. my personal pet theory is the doll is a second dreamer, the real host of the dream, because you find her sleeping in the old abandoned workshop

when you end a dream you have to kill both the host of the dream and the creator, ex, killing micolash then mergo, killing (freeing) gehrman and then the moon presence

so here where i get a little confusing okkkkk. the doll is the reason the game loops. the purpose of the hunter's dream is to keep hunters alive, at least when they start out hunting. hunters can leave the dream, like eileen and djura, but can they really? they reset when you start new game plus. everything resets. you are able to end the nightmare of beasts by ending the mensis ritual, but micolash was already long dead and a skeleton when he 'woke up', meaning gehrman would be as well. the doll, however, would just go back to sleep. she has an immortal doll body, if she wakes up there is no actual consequence. in the childhoods beginning ending you become the new creator of the dream, and the doll is the host, so gehrman is unnecessary. in the ending where you replace gehrman you are replacing his role as the surrogate child of the moon presence/collateral, and the doll is the host. in yharnam sunrise you 'leave' the dream, but you can't actually leave. the only thing left is new game plus. there is no way to permanently kill the doll in the game, and you need to kill both the dreamer and the maker of the dream to end it

i believe the moon presence created something unintendedly bigger than herself with the dream, it's become an endless self powering cycle that resets the entire world instead of just keeping a few hunters alive. the great ones are sympathetic in spirit, but she didn't really understand what laurence (and associates) was asking for because she can never actually die. so now no one can ever die! N that's my post

[hiddenbeks]

they don't know i'm planning major changes to my da worldstate,,

[giantkillerjack]

To give credit to the last of us for its queer rep, it’s not just queer characters who have tragic/bittersweet endings. Literally everyone (siblings, parent and child, heterosexual) queer or not, has tragic endings. The older queer couple gets the best one out of all of them.

I guess? I mean, it is certainly much better than if they were the only characters to die in the storyline. But people were on tumblr talking about how theirs was a happy queer story. And I think it is the misleading discussion around these characters that bothers me even more than the writing. Like if I had watched that episode instead of looking up the plot summary, I would have had a meltdown at the end when they both died because I truly had gotten the impression that it was going to be a happy story.

But now that I've mentioned the writing:

It's nice that they live till their 70s. It's nice that they get 20 beautiful years together. And it's a bit fucked that the writers felt the need to end those 20 long years on-screen with a terminal illness and suicide in the same episode they are introduced. It would have been incredibly easy to just say that those men get to live on past the end of the episode. There are a million reasons those men could have continued living in the story.

But that's the thing about a show like this. I think there is a distinct possibility that this show is actually incapable of writing a satisfying happy ending.

Craig Maizin, the show's writer, gained acclaim recently with Chernobyl, proving that he is apparently excellent at writing a long, horrifying tragedy in which character struggle only to find there is no way out.

(His other main credits are The Hangover sequels and the Scary Movie sequels, most of which I haven't personally seen, so make of that what you will.)

But more than the writer's background, the show itself troubles me. It has this repeated mantra in it that goes, "when you're lost in the darkness, look for the light." Which is a cool phrase.

But I have reason to suspect that this writer genuinely doesn't know how to write the light. I have no reason to believe he does. I hope I am wrong.

But when you write episode after episode after episode that is an endless inescapable slog of tragedy and desperation - and then advertise it to me, a sick queer person actually living through a pandemic and trying to escape disease and poverty - well.

I think a better writer would include moments of light and hope beyond just trauma bonding. Moments that don't end in death.

When my wife writes about characters in awful situations, there are still these moments of genuine loveliness and fun and joy between the characters; these moments remind the reader what is worth actually fighting for, living for. Imagine! Entire chapters in a post-apocalyptic novel in which characters don't undergo a "hacking someone to death with a cleaver" level of trauma!

But the fact that Bill and Frank still had to die even after an earnest attempt to tell a beautiful love story....

I fear that the light the story ends with - if there is any - will be as dim and desaturated as the show itself. And personally, I am at a point in my life where I don't care to see a story like that.

It's fine if you do like it. It doesn't matter to me if you find beauty in a tragic queer love story. There are places for that in this world. But it is tragic. I am sure of that. And I wish I hadn't been seeing posts saying otherwise, ya know?

And I hope I am wrong about the writer. But I see cracks in the premise. Like in Stranger Things. There was always a promise of light that kept me watching, but it never seemed to come. Instead, the misery and trauma continued to stack and compound for the lead characters, like in TLOU. But... does the writer know how to make that worth it, for us, for the audience - for me? I don't think he does.

I think it very possible that the light isn't really coming for Ellie and Joel in a way that provides catharsis because I have noticed that on shows with no intermittent joy and hope, this is too often the case.

But I do hope I'm wrong. Because if I am right, then a lot of mentally ill fans will leave the experience more depressed than if they hadn't watched it at all.

But for my own part, I'll just continue to skim through the show for monster design ideas. And also I'll say that everyone should watch Infinity Train - ESPECIALLY season 2 of Infinity Train, if they'd like to see a story in which people actually DO find a light that makes the whole journey feel worth it.

[dormiloncito]

but i'm a creep.... i'm eduardooo...

[235uranium]

back from the barbie movie and I certainly have Thoughts on what the movie was doing but overall I do think it's worth seeing! it's fun

[apotelesmaa]

I need to draw my ocs but them living in my head forever so only I can be insane about them is funny and also probably a mercy

[warty-hog-legacy]

SKETCHES 

of Clara’s clothing. Will do school uniforms eventually

headcanon under the cut

Also, after the whole fighting-Ranrok thing (gotta happen in March, right? still snowy out), Clara is wounded via knife slash to her ankle, also twisted same ankle, got walloped by a troll, scratched up her legs something awful sliding on rocks, and then watched her favorite professor die. She’s in hysterics when Sharp and Prof. Onai are trying to corral her up to the hospital wing. She keeps trying to escape and go find the entrance to the mined tunnel.

Pls keep in mind, she’s 15, been awake for like 36 hours straight, and just lost someone important to her (again, so like, old memories of her sister dying are resurfacing). Obviously, she is a pillar of calm and collected sanity.

Additional Information: When the tremors with the Ancient Magic started, the Profs who did not go to help fight were herding students into the Great Hall, like when Sirius scratched up the Pink Lady’s portrait. So a not insignificant number the student body heard Clara’s screeches, snuck to the door and saw the floating cot with a body under a sheet, the haunted looks on the professors as they return.

Rumors circulate. As they do.

So two mornings later, when Sebastian has worked up the nerve to actually talk to Clara (he heard her parents were summoned in the middle of the night, also heard she lost her mind, that a dragon lived under the castle, castle was almost blown up, etc... who knows what’s true). So. He’s going to talk to her. Which he’s talked to loads of girls, and talked to Clara loads of times. Except that she’s refused to talk to him since the Uncle Solomon incident, and that’s why he’s nervous and trying to talk himself into seeing her.

Instead he Lurks (defintely lurking) outside the hospital wing, unsure if he wants to talk to her or not. He sticks his head into the door, half hoping she’s still sleeping and half-hoping she’ll see him and all that awkward guilt will vanish.

Sebastian is treated to a view of privacy curtains halfway down the wing. And through a little gap, he gets a glimpse of her lacing up her corset. Just for like, 1 total second.

5 minutes later, a bunch of second-years watch him sprint out of the castle and dive headfirst into the lake.