#sole representatives

[triglycercule]

horrortale waterfall game broke me sorry (hey just like horror!)

[sequs-art-box]

How Long? 😆

[wasteland-wrecker]

Get to know Toby a lil better:

[name-is-tired]

(The tags have my opinion on Megatron, I'm actually pissed rn I'm writing too much)

I hate the Starscream haters who say that we like him due to "Oh you all make him all innocent, and a baby, but he's insane and terrible but you don't see that. He's not a victim he hurts people" (Basing this off literal interpretations of him from people who hate or hold no liking for him that I've seen)

Like stfu in my head I'm making him so insane and insecure and yes there is innocence but that's now erased so fuck off from my 'will kill for being forced to do a small task that annoys him' son.

Also there's a reason why everyone who actually has a brain cell says that he's a victim is because he is one.

Like there's no way you look at him and his fans who some have been victims to different types of abuse seeing themselves in him, AND THINK THAT HE'S NOT A VICTIM.

And people who don't hate him but have no love for him, but like literally everyone else, give the most shitty interpretations. Like maybe the reason why that is. Is because you probably have only actually looked at him in fans making him like that for comfort and not even trying to make it close to cannon.

And I ain't saying that oh you don't like Starscream, you then don't actually know him. But it's those who will have affection for every character no matter what simply having none for starscream or having shitty views on his character that's seems like it's from a wattpad story.

If you don't like him but understand his character then okay that's perfectly fine, I might not like your character but I'd make sure to understand them properly before actually arguing with the person on why they are wrong. And you shouldn't even be doing that in the first place just let people enjoy themselves.

I'm actually tweaking from other things but I can't break anything so I wrote this in 7 minutes lol

[carriehobbs]

WAYHAVEN OC COLLAGE

Lauren Renfield

Date of Birth - September 18, 1990 (age 28) Place of Birth - Wayhaven, USA Height - 5'5" Languages - English, (intermediate) Spanish Education - Bachelor of Arts in Law, Big City University Specialties - Deduction and knowledge, science and technology Traits - Intimidating, cautious, stoic, stubborn, pessimistic, mind over heart, by the book Love Interest - Adam du Mortain Best Friend - Morgan Key Decisions - Bobby route (ex-romantic partner), agreed to the Agency blood tests, bit by Murphy on the wrist, Murphy captured, kissed Bobby, neither Tina nor Verda learned about the supernatural, saved Sanja, Falk allied with the Agency, went to the auction with Rebecca Extra Notes - Started (and later quit) smoking during university (though she still sneaks a cigarette when stressed), has a (symbolically) basic apartment, a major workaholic

I was tagged by @sewellsheart to make a collage (or, as I did, an aesthetic/vibes set) for one of my OCs. I've filled out an altered version of the prompts that were provided (mainly because there were some prompts I couldn't answer, so I replaced them with others that I could).

I'm tagging @agentnatesewell @lalizah @wayhavenots @fauville @itsmistyeyedbi @thee-morrigan @anticupid16 to participate if they want to (no pressure!). Despite the name of the game, you don't have to share for a Wayhaven OC if you would rather share for someone else 💕

The original image and character info prompts:

3 collages (1 for each: vibes/brainrot/passtimes)

D.O.B. (Date of Birth) - P.O.B. (Place of Birth) - Height - Languages - Education - Specialties - Traits - Skills - Extra Notes - Mother’s P.O.B. - Father’s P.O.B. -

[godbirdart]

if there's one [1] thing i will be forever grateful for in the internet era it's the vast variety and availability of pose / anatomy references supplied by photographers and models

i can go online and find PERFECT references for how fat folds crease the skin or how muscles wrap around the body and as someone who habitually draws most of his OCs ~modestly lean~ and wants to hone his skill in other body types, it is literally a godsend to have those refs so readily available

seriously, thank you all models and photographers for providing me the resources i need to expand my art skills i owe u my life

[letyukisayfuck]

you guys. you guys

i won the holy grail of conventions tonight

i am wandering. eyeing merchandise. looking longingly at some pretty space themed items

i hear a voice. "hey, are you haruhi?"

i turn around. "yes!"

"do you want a free haruhi sticker?"

(of course i said yes. and then i bought the haruhi keychain.)

i've said it before, i'll say it again: we are entering the haruhi renaissance

[impmansloot]

reading an article on narcissus and goldmund and thinking "this is way too focused on jungian archetypes and not queer enough. also not batshit crazy enough"

[bardace]

I don’t have dissociative identity disorder myself and I’ll admit my knowledge of it is pretty surface level but istg if I have to keep seeing more of the fucking “this serial killer has MULTIPLE (two) IDENTITIES AND ONE OF THEM IS NORMAL AND THE OTHER KILLS PEOPLE” trope I might have to buckle down and do enough research to write a normal fucking person with did

[revacholsidetournament]

DE SIDE CHARACTER TOURNAMENT - MATCH 8, PRELIMINARY ROUND

Lilienne's Twins are the five year old twin boys of Lilienne Carter and older brothers of Lily Carter. They are distinguished solely as Lilienne's Twin and Lilienne's Other Twin.

[distant-velleity]

lmao for the record this is not very... coherent or well-paced but-- it definitely exists so 🙂 yeah!!!

yuhua's book 7 dream in tgtwst (before he gets sent to silver's dream by the System)

(warning for floyu crumbs; explanation of the dream in the tags)

~

“You’re saying Azul wanted to see me?” Yuhua asks for what must be the second time now. He follows Chrysos along the oft-walked path to the Hall of Mirrors, adjusting his winter coat to better shield him from the January chill.

Thankfully, Chrysos has the miraculous patience of a saint, at least when it comes to him. “Yes. Truly, it’s an urgent matter; both he and I agree on that.” 

They enter the hall and take a soft right veer into the alcove for the Octavinelle mirror.

“Of course,” Chrysos says, right before they enter, “if it helps, Floyd is rather insistent that you come as well.”

Something strange flutters in Yuhua’s chest, the beginning traces of a feeling he can’t allow himself to feel. He silently stamps it down, though he can’t stop himself from smiling regardless. “Really, now?”

“And there it is.” Knowingly, the corners of Chrysos’ mouth quirk up in a faint smirk. He gestures towards the mirror invitingly. “Go ahead. You know the route to the Mostro Lounge.”

“Right.”

Yuhua steps through the mirror and experiences the usual weightlessness for the briefest of seconds. His foot finds solid ground again on pale lilac tiling, the reflections of the water from above warped over his shoes. Having walked this route countless times now, it’s through muscle memory that he follows the path to the Mostro Lounge; Chrysos isn’t far behind him.

“Ah, wait—” Yuhua looks behind at Chrysos before he opens the door. “...is it locked? Or—”

Chrysos shrugs one shoulder, a non-answer. “It’s unlocked right now, I can assure you.”

“Really? Okay.”

Yuhua grabs the handle and pulls the door open to see utter darkness inside. He blinks, wondering if it’s merely the effect of his eyes adjusting to the light, but no—only the lights from within the tanks are on, and those do little to make the interior any more visible.

Skepticism sinks into his chest. “Chrysos, are you sure—”

“SURPRISE!” shout a pair—no, a chorus of familiar voices. A burst of magic, a showy effect of harmless sparkles, erupts before Yuhua as the Lounge is once again illuminated. Ace, Deuce, Epel, Jack, and Santiago are right there by the door, their eyes bright.

“Happy birthday, Yu,” Deuce says first, a sincere smile on his face. 

“Ya didn’t think we forgot, now did ya?” asks Epel. He partially covers his good-humored laughter at Yuhua’s face with a fist. 

Jack crosses his arms and looks at the others. “...C’mon, guys. Give him some room.”

Indeed, Yuhua needs it—he can’t quite believe his eyes. Looking past the first-years, he can see the Lounge decorated, not too flamboyantly but not too modestly; he also spots other familiar students gathered around, watching the door or sitting at tables and chatting among themselves.

“I—I…” 

His grasp on the door handle grows weak; Chrysos takes it and makes sure he doesn’t make a fool of himself by letting the door crash straight into him.

“...This is for… me?” Yuhua finally wonders aloud.

Ace snorts at that and shoves a bundle of clothing into his arms. “Who else? I don’t know any other January 27th birthday boys at this school.”

“Um—but I never told you guys my—” 

“Don’t underestimate our combined deductive abilities.” Santiago winks at him, dangling a bolo-style tie around his finger for a second before handing it to Yuhua. “We figured it out just in time.”

“Together? Don’t you guys hate each oth—”

“We’ve learned how to put aside our differences sometimes,” Chrysos assures him, though judging by Ace’s stink-eye, it seems to be a one-time occurrence and nothing better. “And we decided to hold it here at the Lounge as a compromise.”

“But, I…” Yuhua’s mouth remains open even as he falls silent, trying to form questions he doesn’t quite know how to vocalize. “...I… Is this really okay… The Lounge, I mean, and my birthday…”

He doesn’t know quite what he’s feeling, just that the feeling is so immense it stops him from forming coherent sentences. 

“Who else decides if it’s okay or not?” At the imminent approach of a very familiar and very welcome sophomore trio, the first-years scatter like minnows. Floyd easily snakes a hand behind him to place on Yuhua’s opposite shoulder and walks him in. “C’mon, it’s your birthday, li’l Koi! A day just for you!”

“Surely, someone else was—”

“My, my.” Jade hides an amused smile behind a delicate gloved hand. “Are you just going to tell all of these people to go back to their dorms after they’ve already arrived?”

“Come on, now,” Azul agrees. “We were even able to coordinate such a well-timed surprise.”

“Well—” Yuhua sputters, flustered. He hugs the clothes to his chest. There’s a million arguments for his case, but just as many against it. “This is all really impressive, yeah—”

“So there we got it!” exclaims Floyd. “It’s your birthday, and we’re gonna celebrate it. Now, are ya gonna go get changed or what?”

Happiness. Like a soap bubble popping, Yuhua comes to the realization when he looks at Floyd’s infectious smile and feels the warmth surrounding him. This overwhelming, confusing, dizzying feeling—is happiness.

“I…” What is he waiting around for? If everyone’s already gathered… Like a fool, Yuhua laughs at himself sheepishly. “Yeah. Just wait for me a sec, I’ll borrow one of the bathrooms.”

…

“Hold still,” Vil demands, stopping Yuhua as soon as he steps out of the bathroom.

“I—Huh?”

Yuhua stays frozen in his tracks as Vil steps around to stand behind him. Rook takes Vil’s initial place as the housewarden sets to work on Yuhua’s hair.

“Bonjour, monsieur,” Rook sing-songs. 

“Hi, Rook,” answers Yuhua. “Are you also here for—?”

“The celebration? Why, of course~” With a flourish, Rook bends into a bow and extends an open palm forward. “May you have a very happy birthday on this fine day.”

“Don’t distract him while I’m doing his hair, Rook,” Vil says curtly.

“But of course, my Roi de Poison.” Still, Rook smiles at Yuhua in his poetically pleasant, friendly way.

Finally, Vil steps back to appreciate his work. Yuhua, after awaiting the approval of a quick “Go ahead,” gently feels at the braid his hair has been done into.

“Wow, I…” Yuhua turns around. “Thank you, Vil. You didn’t have to.”

“Mm, is that so?” Vil lets out something of an almost-content hum, as usual. “I couldn’t have the birthday boy walking around with his hair the same as his day-to-day look.”

“Your beauty has only been enhanced, monsieur,” Rook declares. “Now, shall we return to the party?”

“They’re all waiting on you,” adds Vil.

“Ah—” 

They’re waiting on him. They actually want him there.

Yuhua nods slowly. “Okay. Let’s go.”

They leave the side hallway to return to the Lounge. Almost immediately, Yuhua catches sight of a certain redhead waving madly at him from one of the tables. It seems like Ace has fervently and insistently claimed himself a spot at the table with the cake, alongside others like Floyd, Deuce, and Chrysos.

“Over here, over here!” calls Ace, earning himself a simultaneous flick to the forehead from Chrysos and a punch in the arm from Deuce. “Ow!”

“Yelling isn’t going to make me get there any faster,” Yuhua retorts, though he’s still laughing when he squeezes in to sit between Ace and Floyd. “I bet you just wanna eat the cake already.��

“You’re pretty greedy, Crabby,” agrees Floyd, just to get a jab in at the first-year.

“Hmph.” Ace grins mischievously, neither confirming nor denying. “Maybe I just wanna know what the birthday boy’s gonna wish for.”

The candles on the cake flicker. It’s just a birthday wish, and it doesn’t mean much. Not much is riding on it.

“I don’t really—” Yuhua pauses, and then huffs a laugh. “Yeah, like I’d tell you. That ruins the whole point.”

“Aww,” whines Ace, batting his eyelashes. “Seriously?”

“Seriously, you dork.”

“What about me?” ventures Floyd, a shit-eating smile on his face.

“Come on.” Yuhua rolls his eyes affectionately. “It’s supposed to be a secret. That means I don’t tell you guys until it comes true. And it’s not that big of a deal anyway—I bet you can guess what it is pretty easily.”

That seems to appease them into staying silent, each thinking about what it could be.

…Again, it’s a wish that doesn’t mean much. With nothing too big to relegate to a birthday wish but nothing memorable enough to immediately ask for, Yuhua more or less has to make it up on the spot. He takes a deep breath before he silently thinks—

I hope I can celebrate my birthday like this again in the future.

—and blows out all the candles in one clean exhale. 

Ace whoops, and somewhere in the Lounge the sound is repeated. Cheers and clapping, from the people celebrating for the sake of it  and the people who want food, echo through the room. “Alright! Now the party’s really begun!”

“I want the first slice of cake!” Floyd insists abruptly.

“No way. It’s mine!”

“Huuuuh?”

“Hey, you two, don’t fight in the middle of Yuhua’s party—!”

Chrysos leans over the table to Yuhua while the other two bicker and Deuce tries to play mediator. “You’re giving it to me, obviously. Right?”

Yuhua sighs, meant to sound long-suffering but instead reflecting his muffled giddiness. “You guys…”

…

Once the food is eaten and the gifts are given, Yuhua finds himself sitting on a stool by the counter while the others mingle among themselves. 

He isn’t mad that he’s seemingly being neglected, no—because he isn’t. People are still checking in on him: Jamil, stopping by to offer him a hair clip; Idia being nudged by Ortho to make Yuhua aware of his attendance (haha); Riddle personally wishing him a happy birthday before being accidentally warded off by Floyd; so on and so forth.

And people are gathered here because of him. They’re all getting along, making merry because of him, in a way. It feels nice, to see everyone not at each other’s throats for once—to see Azul and Leona talking civilly, to see Sebek and the other freshmen having an eating competition… To have people still asking him if he wants to try this food or play this game with them, and knowing that he can just join in whenever he feels back up to it.

This happiness, that knowledge—they form a pool of warmth in his heart, a pool running so deep that Yuhua thinks he might burst if he does anything other than sit. He’s happy to be here, happy to be a part of the celebrations; so happy to be acknowledged as something important to people. Happy to be more than a thought that fades away once the moment has passed.

He’s happy to belong.

Are you really happy? asks a voice in his head—

“Hey, li’l Koi!” Floyd shouts from a table. “Wanna play a game with us?”

—The easy, obvious answer is an unhesitant yes.

Yuhua smiles and nods his answer. A fluttery, bubbly feeling in his heart fills his veins with excitement as he stands up—

The world spins; his vision swims. His foot doesn’t meet the floor, his stomach sinks, and suddenly he’s falling with all the weightlessness of a dreamer being awakened.

~

taglist (ask to be added or removed): @thehollowwriter @theleechyskrunkly @elenauaurs @casp1an-sea @nahelenia

@skriblee-ksk @boopshoops @scint1llat3 @nyx-of-night @nemisisnemi

@sillyslipperybananapeel @beneathsakurashade @kathxrat-01 @lumdays @twistedwonderlandshenanigans

@taruruchi

[luigra]

Did a small sona redesign lol. Tried to highlight the theme of combining death and cuteness better. Most of the changes ended up being just clearer shape language and getting rid of the unnecessary polka dots on the shirt.

On one hand, the first version is pretty much nearly identical to how I& usually draw my& sona, so it feels more familiar and speaks to me& closer. On the other hand, making her pale as death conveys the theming much better and imo makes for a better character design.

What are the thoughts? Do I& keep her alive or make her undead lol

[kithj]

played mouthwashing... good game

[brooklynisher]

Probably not canon anymore but it's funny how everyone imagines Peter's face to be scarred or heavily changed when in reality (or at least in 2012) he literally straight up doesn't have a face.

Like, THAT ISN'T just a covering for his face. That's his actual face

Could it be lighting? Maybe? But I don't think that's how lighting works. I don't think his face is naturally allergic to light.

I don't think this is canon anymore because The Seventh paints Peter's broken mask as this huge mystery and unless the mystery is about bringing this back, I don't think this is the surprise we might be getting.

BUT HEY this was all borderline if not 100% canon at one point in time

[volbeast]

So glad that so far Elongated Muskrat has not yet decided to co-opt Knight Rider visual language in his bullshit because it would be stupidly on the nose that Billionaire Wilton Knight funded his own personal pseudo-governmental vigilante branch with no oversight

[patchodraws]

Ya see, Mac Coyle was supposed to die at 16.

The cancer had rendered her nearly immobile, done such a massive fucking number on her brain that she could hardly count to ten anymore. Half the time, her veins were pumping painkillers instead of blood through her body. She’d been made a husk of the fiery, fierce girl she’d so bravely decided to be for the past five years.

A week later, when KJ went in to check up on her, she was gone. Her heart had plummeted in that instant, any semblance of warmth in her body disintegrated by the painfully unsudden shock of Max finally being gone — and it had all been undone, replaced, moments later when the nurse told her she’d been sent him after a literally miraculous recovery.

Mac had kept quiet about the whole affair when she met her for milkshakes the next afternoon. Completely barring KJ’s hurt that her supposed best friend — the girl she’d spent the last three years pining after all while knowing more and more that she could never have — couldn’t even phone her up to tell her she’d been released, Mac seemed distracted. Distant. Unfocused. KJ had to remind her to even drink her shake every now and then, as opposed to every other time when she’d have to playfully reprimand her for stealing sips when she’d though KJ wasn’t looking.

“I wish I could tell you,” Mac had said as if her seemingly magical recovery wasn’t beyond all reason, “but I’m back now. I’m better. Cancer’s gone.”

“And you never said anything because…?”

KJ’s question had gone unanswered all night. Mac deflected her inquiries, or got notably short with the prodding, and managed to entirely silence KJ into confused and bitter acceptance that her best friend was alive, and she was never going to know why.

The silent they’d stewed in lasted until sundown, and it had done its work grinding KJ’s patience down to dust. Mac hadn’t even half finished her shake by the time KJ stood up and, with a betrayed scowl damming any scathing, choice words, strode back to her car—

And that was when it attacked.

It, because KJ had absolutely no clue what to call that thing, other than definitively not human. Some part of her mind, quiet and distant, seemed to want to ping in recognition of it, but a second glance at the twisted mockery of a young woman with burning yellow eyes tamped down on that thought in an instant. Whatever she was facing, she’d never seen anything like it, and as it approached with bared fangs and a bestial snarl, she feared it might actually be the last thing she saw.

Instead, what she saw was the woman go stiff, accompanied by the sound of flesh being pierced and bone being split; a second later, and she was gone, blown into the evening wind as dust, revealing in her place Mac.

KJ panted in panic, in shock, in disbelief, as Mac flipped a pointed wooden stick in her palm before hastily shoving it into her jacket pocket. “You alright, Kaje?”

“What was that?” KJ asked, her voice wobbling, before her wide stare trained back to Mac. “What are you?”

Mac shrugged. “Cats out of the bag, I guess. I’m the fucking Slayer.”