#she pops up at the end

[raspberrysmoon]

day 11 of @rtcshipweeks !! THE lovers ever tbh

pre-canon ship: mischalia! possibly another sort of sad one? fully canon compliant so :)

monday, september 14, 2009

[3:03 pm] my mischa <3- i hate buses

[3:04 pm] darling talia <3- :(

[3:04 pm] darling talia <3- are you on your way to the competition?

[3:04 pm] my mischa <3- yeah

[3:05 pm] my mischa <3- unfortunately

[3:05 pm] my mischa <3- stupid ocean is yelling at us like we're listening

[3:06 pm] darling talia <3- she seems..

[3:06 pm] darling talia <3- interesting

[3:07 pm] my mischa <3- thats one way to say it

[3:08 pm] my mischa <3- she doesn't have a bad voice but shes so annoying

[3:09 pm] my mischa <3- she grabs rickys crutches and wheelchair randomly and its starting to seriously get on my nerves

[3:10 pm] darling talia <3- thats awful oh my gosh

[3:10 pm] darling talia <3- honestly i'm surprised you've lasted this long, love

[3:10 pm] darling talia <3- youre usually so fiery, i can see you snapping at her for something much smaller than that

[3:11 pm] my mischa <3- school rules.

[3:11 pm] my mischa <3- she would be halfway to austrailia if i had a say in it

[3:12 pm] darling talia <3- lol, of course

[4:15 pm] my mischa <3- finally here and setting up

[4:16 pm] my mischa <3- ocean continues to be annoying asf

[4:16 pm] darling talia <3- lol, how awful is she being?

[4:17 pm] my mischa <3- trying to make us warm up while we set up mics

[4:18 pm] my mischa <3- i think noel is about to bite her head off

[4:18 pm] darling talia <3- would you film it for me? she seems to have it coming lol

[4:19 pm] my mischa <3- always my love <3

[5:18 pm] my mischa <3- oh my god

[5:18 pm] my mischa <3- talia

[5:19 pm] my mischa <3- we won

[5:19 pm] darling talia <3- mischa thats incredible!!!

[5:20 pm] darling talia <3- congratulations!!

[5:22 pm] my mischa <3- were going to go ride some of the fair rides now i think

[5:23 pm] my mischa <3- i love you

[5:23 pm] darling talia <3- i love you too my dear

[7:19 am] darling talia <3- im heading to bed my love, i hope the fair is fun!!

[7:19 pm] darling talia <3- good night my mischa <3

tuesday, september 15, 2009

[2:47 am] darling talia <3- good morning my love <3

[2:47 am] darling talia <3- fill me in on the fair when you wake up, okay?

[9:24 am] darling talia <3- mischa?

[2:36 pm] darling talia <3- im headed to bed darling, please text soon, im starting to get worried

wednesday, september 16, 2009

[12:18 am] darling talia <3- good morning my dear <3

[12:19 am] darling talia <3- are you okay?

[12:19 am] darling talia <3- youre never this quiet

[5:56 am] darling talia <3- mischa, please, tell me if i did something to upset you

[5:56 am] darling talia <3- im starting to get worried

thursday, september 17, 2009

[8:34 am] darling talia <3- oh my god

[8:34 am] darling talia <3- oh my god mischa you better not have been in that accident

[8:37 am] darling talia <3- mischa

[8:37 am] darling talia <3- i love you

[8:38 am] darling talia <3- so much

[8:39 am] darling talia <3- im so sorry you had to die there my darling

[8:39 am] darling talia <3- i love you so much

wednesday, august 18, 2010

[11:32 am] darling talia <3- happy 19th birthday, my mischa

friday, august 20, 2010

[5:06 pm] ???- hi, is this talia?

[5:07 pm] talia- whos asking?

[5:09 pm] ???- my name is penny lamb. im the survivor of the cyclone rollercoaster

[5:10 pm] ???- i want to learn more about mischa

[5:11 pm] ???- i didnt know him long, but he seemed like an incredible person, and i want to carry his story with me

[5:13 pm] talia started a call with penny lamb

[littlefankingdom]

Bruce Wayne is canonically a very handsome man (he is called a "pretty boy" and he is in his 40s, for fuck's sake), and he is pretty famous as a rich philanthropist who doesn't want to leave his awful cursed crime infested city. So, there must be a ton of people thirsting over him on the internet. Fancams, edits, fanfics and imagines ("kidnapped with Bruce Wayne 😍 by a Gotham rogue"), the whole charade!

And anytime one of the batkids stumbles on a thirst post, they have the most dramatic disgusted reaction, loudly gagging, before sending the link to the batkids chat, because if they must suffer, then they should all suffer. Clicking on a link in this groupchat is like playing russian roulette, and getting rickrolled is a good ending.

[drenched-in-sunlight]

i love the DLC man

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve Harrington was wearing a Hellfire t-shirt.

It was far too tight on him, the name of the club stretched wide over his chest. The sleeves dug into his biceps, making them pop even more than they usually did, and that was before he crossed his arms. 

Worse?

It was short.

Which meant the damn shirt was constantly riding up to give everyone a nice show of the smattering of hair that trailed down past the band of Harrington's jeans. 

The same hair that Eddie was determinedly not looking at. 

“Henderson, a moment?” He crooked a finger, a smile on his face that was more feral than welcoming. 

Rather than cower or even acknowledge that Eddie was two seconds away from murder, Dustin just gave him a gummy grin, all too pleased with himself and his scheme. 

“Sure Eddie. Steve, don't just stand there, go help set the booth up!” Dustin gestured to Hellfire’s sad little table, crammed all the way in the back of the gym. 

Jeff and Gareth both reacted to the suggestion like a rabid squirrel had been set upon them, nervously inching towards the other side of the booth as Harrington sighed and--shockingly--did as he was told.

‘What,’ Eddie thought angrily, ‘in the everloving fuck.’

“Do you guys mind if I set this down on the table?” Eddie heard Harrington ask as he stormed away, Dustin on his heel. 

They wandered just around the corner, out of sight and hopefully, out of the fallen king’s hearing range.

Eddie wasn't sure if Harrington would try and white knight the very much deserved dressing down he was about to give. 

Didn’t want to chance it, considering the downright weird relationship he had with Hellfire's freshmen.

(While he’d heard many a tale at his table regarding King Steve since the newest recruits had joined Hellfire, most of them dissolved into arguments without ever really going anywhere.

 Best anyone could figure out was that Dustin and Lucas had a bad case of hero worship, while Mike owned a begrudging amount of respect that hailed from a series of misadventures. 

The very same misadventures that, despite all protests to the contrary, was clearly some sort of babysitting gig for Harrington.) 

Either way, plenty of the King’s court would have loved to take this opportunity to fuck with Hellfire.

Given that Henderson was absolutely too old to require a babysitter at fourteen, Eddie would bet his lunch money that was what Steve was here to do.

Something the club couldn’t afford since they were forever and always two seconds away from being stripped of club status and banned from school grounds. 

“I would love to know what went through that all A’s brain of yours when I said,” Eddie whirled on Dustin when they were firmly in the clear, voice low and furious.  “no Henderson, do not invite King Steve to help, he is an invading force and would ruin our peaceful kingdom!?”

He clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into Dustin’s face. “Because clearly whatever you heard wasn’t that.” 

To Eddie’s continued frustration and confusion, Dustin did not treat this like the threat it was. 

None of the freshmen had ever truly treated Eddie like a threat--had somehow skipped that part of the usual onboarding ritual entirely.

Eddie, town freak and drug dealer, who had cultivated his looks and craziness to such a degree that most everyone steered clear, wasn’t used to it. 

Everyone had been afraid of him at some point in this shitty school. Jeff, Gareth, hell even half the staff--and that the dorky trio of fourteen year old's clearly thought this all was play-acting made his eye twitch.

Even if it was--maybe, sometimes--welcome. 

“I know what you said, but I’m telling you I’m right.” Dustin argued immediately, and oh God, he was using that tone again. 

A hand went up into the space between them and Eddie groaned aloud, knowing what was coming.

“First,” Dustin ticked a finger up, “Hellfire really needs the money. Even thirty dollars would get us new figures, but more than that, if we don’t fundraise, we can’t go to Gen Con!” 

Dustin's eyes bored into Eddie’s, full of fire and conviction

“Yes,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but--”

“Second!” Dustin cut him off, and God the little shit even threw him a look while he did it, like Eddie was the one being ridiculous here!

“We had to fight just to get our table! Principal Higgins was in algebra today practically begging the mathletes to show up, but then tried to tell us we couldn't be here? That’s messed up!” 

As if denying them a spot to fundraise was the worst thing that asshole had ever done.

Eddie sighed, breath blasting out of his mouth like a dragon’s. 

“Because people think we’re freaks and satanists, Henderson. You don’t typically invite freaks and satanists to the school’s annual Holiday Bazaar. Especially not when all the local moms are paying to hawk their bullshit crafts and tupperware!” 

It was more than that of course. The Hawkins High Holiday Bazaar was a tradition spanning several years now. Starting in the gym and spilling clear into the parking lot, everyone from local artists to even some local shops came to host a small table for the day, thus growing the event from a small school fundraiser to a Hawkins' “must-do.” 

Half the fucking town was here to sell, and the other half was here to shop, which meant Principle Higgins had wanted Hellfire banned from the fucking premise. 

Eddie had been forced to pull out one of his trump cards he’d been saving--blackmail on Higgins that related to the man’s not--so--legal addiction to Percocet that he relied on Reefer Rick for. 

(And bless Rick, that hadn’t been the only tidbit he’d shared with Eddie about Higgins. That information, however, Eddie needed just so the asshat wouldn’t give him the boot from school entirely.) 

The only reason Eddie had pulled it out to secure their rightful spot, was because of Gen Con. 

It was Hellfire's White Whale, their grand adventure, and this was going to be his year to take his friends on one last epic quest to make memories of a lifetime surrounded by people who understood them.

Come hell or high water, Eddie was going to Gen Con--but being able to fundraise by selling wares and baked goods at the stupid Holiday Bazaar would go a long way to help.

Even if he had to listen to the band repeatedly play ear-bleeding renditions of Christmas songs.

“All the clubs get to have a table, and we’re a club!” Dustin continued, like it was that simple. “But you know, I get it. We look scary.” 

He gestured down to his own Hellfire shirt, before gesturing towards Eddie’s entire outfit.

Like Eddie didn't know what he looked like, let alone that he'd made this outfit specifically to scare people away from him.

(And maybe add some rockstar flair to this dinky little hick town.)

“You know who doesn’t look scary?”

Dustin held out his hands and swiveled his body like he was presenting a prize instead of gesturing in the vague direction of; 

“Steve!”

Eddie’s left eye twitched.

‘You can't kill him, you need his character for the campaign.’ He told himself firmly, even if he envisioned strangling Dustin like a chicken.

Cartoon squawking and all. 

“The King isn’t going to help us fundraise, Dustin.” Eddie said, in an effort to break down why Harrington couldn't be here. “He's just going to cause us problems that we can’t afford to have.” 

So many problems, half of which Eddie couldn't think of because if he did, he'd start spiraling.

“Really? Because as you keep saying, Steve used to be the King. People love him, Eddie! Mom’s love him.”

Eddie had pulled himself back up to his proper height a while ago, and now rocked back on his heels while he ran a hand down his face.

There was no getting through to Henderson when he was like this. 

Not unless Eddie really lost it, and it was practically club lore that he only lost it when someone missed an important game. 

One cannot keep a herd of sheep if their flock is terrified of them, after all. 

(“Perhaps you’re just a giant fucking softie.” Tiff, one of Hellfire’s graduating members, told him once. “Honestly dude, I bet you throw up stuffing.”

“Shut up Tiffany, your choker is on backwards again.” He'd spat back, completely offended and not at all trying to distract from how true that was.) 

“We can’t be satanic if Steve’s the one selling cookies!” Dustin finished doggedly. 

“We’re not even selling cookies--that’s not the point!”” Eddie shook his head, hair flying. He was not going to be sidetracked, he wasn’t!

 “Harrington is going to end up siding with all the moms about how we’re all wasting time with D&D, if he even spends the whole time at the table. Is that what you want?” 

He stuck out a ringed finger, poking at Dustin’s chest.

“Every single person who comes by our table has to be convinced D&D is a writing and math based game. Good for the mind and souls of growing, impressionable children. A game that got a bad rep because of  a few silly images.” 

A pitch he and Tiff had come up with during the third or fourth time they had to convince an adult that no, just because their shirts had a dragon on it, didn’t mean they were summoning demons in the drama room. 

“Harrington can’t do that because Harrington doesn’t even know how to play!” 

This Eddie punctuated by throwing his hands in the air. 

Given the startled look of the mother-daughter duo passing him by, clearly was louder than he’d intended--but screw it!

He was right!

Hellfire was in a precarious position to both fundraise and do a little damage control among the slightly smarter members of this shithole small town, and Harrington rolling his eyes and gossiping about how stupid it was would hinder that.

“Okay, first of all, Steve’s played D&D with me and he didn’t even kill his character.” Dustin said it like he was unveiling a smoking gun and not lying through his ass--which Eddie would absolutely be calling him on the second he was done talking. 

Because King Steve? Play D&D?

'Ha!'

“And he’s not gonna say shit because we--me, and Lucas and even Mike!--asked him to help, and he helps when its serious. I know you have some weird grudge with him, but I’m telling you Eddie he’s our golden ticket to Gen Con!” 

“You’re killing me. You are standing here, acting as a friend, when you are bringing a-- a dark force into the midst our of mission--” Eddie hissed, because he was losing the fucking fight and he knew it.

Dustin Henderson was not a man easily swayed. 

Had never been, even when the odds were stacked against him (and Grant and Gareth were howling in his ear.) 

The set of his shoulders and the glint of the little shithead’s eye meant Eddie wouldn’t be able to use him to oust Harrington--if he even could get him out without the dick causing a massive scene anyway. 

As always when outgunned, Eddie flipped to dramatics.

“Betrayed! By my own chosen heir no less!” He moaned, pressing the back of his hand over his eyes as Dustin scoffed.

"Don’t be so dramatic! Steve will help, I promise! Just don’t be a dick to him.” 

 Conversation apparently over, Dustin turned around to head back to the table

Snidely, he added over his shoulder: “Plus we’ve all caught on to the heir thing Eddie. You tell everyone that so they do what you want.” 

The dick.

“You’re too fucking smart for your own good. I’m gonna start feeding you paint chips to bring that IQ down.” Eddie muttered angrily as Dustin went back to their little table.

He gave himself a moment to get his shit together and stomp a foot like a child when Dustin was around the corner and thus couldn’t witness it, before following his wayward sheep back.

Could only pray to any deity listening that Henderson’s meddling didn’t blow up in Hellfire’s face.

[eye-of-the-hawk]

“Yes. Stole my own hypothesis and turned it against me.”

“Fascinating. I’d love to meet her.”

“… Ah. So you’re just like her here, aren’t you?”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“*Sigh…* unfortunately, you’ve already made it quite obvious.”

[lovesickeros]

☆ you sow; & thus you shall reap what you are owed

{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, violence {☆} word count 0.8k

You are dying.

Gold melts into the dirt, bleeds into the very earth that you'd molded by your own hands – a familiarity you do not understand the source of – you know it to be true, yet you do not remember it as Teyvat does. It weeps, in turn, for the way you bleed upon it, the way your lungs strain for breath.

It is fury and sorrow and fear and hatred so raw that your mind buckles.

You will die.

"A dying godling and its judge, it's jury – it's executioners," The voice is hollow and cold, sweeps across your broken body like the first chill of winter, "Archons who saw themselves Gods, now brought to heel by their own hubris."

A cold hand upon your cheek, the brush of a thumb across your lip, the gentle caress of cold across your skin. You know her – you don't remember, you shouldn't recognize her but you do – and she knows you. The cold beckons and you follow, let her kindness settle in the hollow space of your chest. You want to speak, to cry and scream and rage, let the world burn around you in a fit of flames so hot even she cannot contain it – but she silences you, quiets the anger seeping into your blood, quiets Teyvat itself.

"Do not speak, little godling. Guide my hand," She is cold; her hands are not gentle, yet it is bliss compared to the callous, cruel hands that have shattered you. She is cruel and cold and brutal but she is love in the way she kisses the crown of your head. She is love in the way she is the bulwark between you and the world that has scorned you – she is fury in the way she brings them to their knees. "And I shall enact judgement most divine."

They will pray for forgiveness, and they shall find themselves wanting.

"It wasn't our fault!" They cry, but you cannot recognize the voice – it breaks and cracks like glass. "They were too human. How were we meant to know? We– we thought they were.."

Silence.

You watch your judge – the executioner, the blade that shall carve their sins into the very marrow of Teyvat, stand above you like death. As cold as winter and just as brutal. Your temple has been painted in the gold of your divine blood, and she shall complete the masterpiece with their own. The Archons shall become the grandest art in the world – this temple the canvas, their blood the paint and their bodies the palette. The cold that cuts sinew cradles you – it sings to you, whispers sweetly in your ear and carves bone from body in the same breath. The cold presses it's lips to your wrist and it cradles a heart within it's palm – judges them and finds them guilty.

It is her spear that rests between their ribs, her sword that dissects and her dagger that carves – the cold devours.

In the breadth of this divine sanctuary, the Archons dwindle. They become the pieces of a divine work of art, they bleed and bend and break upon her hands. She shakes the heavens and carves mortality into the bones of the divine – your word is Law, and you weave their deaths into the roots of Teyvat itself.

They shall know of their grand folly in every moment henceforth and longer still and they shall weep.

And as the curtain falls, as the world crumbles beneath fist and blade, she cradles your face between hands too cold – as gentle as a shard of ice between your ribs, as brutal as the kiss of gentle snowfall. The world buckles at the loss of six, but she alone does not allow it to break – you will have to mend the wounds of the world when you are well, but today you weep and Teyvat weeps with you.

And alone, the cold remains.

Stone has eroded, the wind has ceased, the flames have been extinguished, the storm has been silenced, the forests have gone quiet and the seas go still.

But the cold remains, bathed in gold.

It wraps you in thick furs, cradles you against the winter storm that brews beneath a veneer of composure. It brings you home – lets the world settle into a stillness and silence that inspires only dread and still she presses a kiss to your brow.

It is cold, but there has never been something so warm.

Where hands have broken you, she drapes you in furs, wipes away the thick gold that clings to your skin. She pieces you back together where you have been shattered, reshapes you where you have been bent – makes of you something new. Not a god and not a mortal but something wedged between them.

But you are yourself.

And you are where you belong.

They shall put you back together and you shall know only the worship worthy of the divine. They shall carve this world into your image, tear out and burn away the rot that festers.

All you need to do is say the word and they shall be your tools to make this world your own.

One word and those who wronged you shall burn, too.

Just one word. That's all it takes, and they shall take away your pain.

[astoldbychae]

"My way, huh? Say less. . ." 😏 [NSFW]

[racke7]

Trans-Kirito story-idea

After the SAO beta-test, Suguha "borrows" (read, follows her god-given right to be an annoying little sister) Kirito's NervGear.

As Suguha very much doesn't want to run around "as a boy" (yuck), she redoes the body-scan.

Kirito is very much not amused by Suguha stealing his shit, and takes it back. Kirito checks that nothing is actually broken (it works just fine), but doesn't think about "resetting" the body-scan.

The in-game avatar isn't changed (Kirito picks "male"), and Suguha the preteen and Kirito before his growth-spurt have very similar body-types), so any "this feels a bit odd to get used to"-feelings are attributed to Kirito lying about his height.

SAO starts, and Kirito is having zero issues with his avatar.

SAO becomes a death-game and Kayaba makes the mirror-item happen.

The mirror-item uses the recorded body-scan to create the avatar (and a video-feed for recording faces and facial-expressions).

So Kirito now has the body of a preteen girl, and the face of a very cute boy.

Let the chaos begin.

[fluffypotatey]

Calypso in epic is so funny actually:

some dude washes up on her island that she can’t leave, and out of either boredom, the kindness of her heart, or the fact that he was hot enough, Calypso nurses him back to relative health

she possibly starts to gain a crush while he’s conked out sleep talking about his ghosts and some “Penelope”

she fixates on Penelope and probably worries about who she is to this shipwrecked man

he finally wakes up and says it’s his wife (FUCK!)

you’re a goddess tho and decide to keep this married man anyway who behaves like a stray kitten

he threatens to kill you and all you see is a feral dork

and you are a goddess and so lonely and isolated that you selfishly keep him despite his panic to get home

he is so haunted by the ghosts on his shoulders

he’s probably tried to kill himself once every year. maybe

lol did i say funny? i meant tragic

[chokingonunluckyclovers]

apolagies for my lack of welcome home content. I'm still very much drawing it (thanks to a great mutual, @lili-divine-artist) and other things. i've just been finding myself detach from social medias, since i dont really like them all that much.

here's one fan child between sweetie mouse, lili's oc, and wally darling in the hyper pop punk au. she has a twin brother that i might post picture of later.

[goldensunset]

ayyyyy it's the art year in review post with my best work from each month

[sanasanakun]

Maybe I’m stupid (likely) but I feel like Gojo resembling Toji in his battle with Megumi!Sukuna is trying to show that he is a paternal figure in Megumi’s life. Like the two different sides of Megumi’s male paternal figures (or I guess the two most consistent male adult figures in Megumi’s life)??? I don’t buy that Gojo was a father figure for Tsumiki and Megumi (to me he was more like Spencer from ICarly lmao) but like…i feel like the outfit similarity is trying to say something about their relationship on a familial or paternal scale…but im too dumb to fully phrase this how i want so maybe just ponder on this for me hahaha

[beatx-mavie-archangelx]

my best friend described thorin as the antagonist in the hobbit (movies - specifically the first one) and honestly i wonder why i hadn't thought of that before

[kadextra]

brainrotting so hard about that madrugaduo conversation full of metaphors about wine glasses, battlefields & q!cellbit as stigma by bts v played in the background. that was a masterpiece. one of my favorite lore talks now

edit: 4:51:50 on bagi’s vod

[yakny]

"NUNCA APRENDES, PLATITA."

[satsuha]

u know im back on my bullshit