#someone had to do it 👀

[kagooleo]

here's a finished belated bday comm for @wyvernity of their soulsilvershipping :D!!! I was honestly really happy with the turnout for the piece so I did go a lil ham on their faves (～￣▽￣)～

i've still got 2 commission slots open on my kofi for both chibi and sketch pieces if anyone is interested :V

[my5hiningstars]

"I'll be honest with you, I really didn't realise CDs were poppin still...I haven't used a CD in about, it has to be ten years!" - Ashton Irwin, June 8th 2024

[blackthornish]

martin short is a legend!!! his performance in episode 2 of s4 is an emmy tape!!!!! he was brilliant!!and the script for this season is amazing!!! they separated the suspects into two episodes, which I found very interesting!! cuz they didn't interact at all and we can't exclude anyone who has appeared so far…. (SPOILERS IN THE TAGS)

[leverage-ot3]

hozier starting to sing take me to church and then unfurling a pride flag healed something in me actually

if you listen closely you can hear me yell ‘oh my god’ when he does it

[swordmaid]

i am wide awake thinking about that post canon jb au again when I should be sleeping …!!! such is the nature of the jbrainrot…

[pandaspwnz]

So I don't think this is actually the case but what if Eliza and Isaac's deaths werent over a petty amount of cash and a robbery gone wrong? What if, instead, Dutch had seen Arthur spending time with them, had perceived him slipping away as a threat: a threat to himself, his gang, his security, his family, afraid of losing his lead enforcer - whether he truly at that point did love him like a son, or not. And in his insecurity or fear or whatever other reason, he finds someone rotten, unrelated to the gang, and he pays them to murder Eliza and her little boy, so no one will ever tempt Arthur away from the flock, and he instead puts all his energy and time into the gang, the only family he has left.

[captainsjack]

in the next mission impossible movie there better be a scene where the one (1) female agent they have has to seduce/flirt with a guy to get information out of him except when she tries, he makes it clear he’s not interested and says something implying he’s gay. so she walks away and into the comms tells the team it didn’t work because “i’m not his type.” then we get semi-frustrated team members telling her “well then become his type, we need the info” etc only for her to interrupt with “i think one of you boys will have a better chance.” then the comms go silent and it cuts to each team member’s reaction of “😳” and the “oh”s as they realize he’s gay. except when it cuts to ethan’s reaction, he’s already sauntering over to the guy and we just hear him say “i’m on it” and then we get scenes of ethan seducing the bad guy and he gets to gay kiss him. if this doesn’t happen i will riot

[mrs-gauche]

[renlyslittlerose]

But what if I were to do kinktober again...

[good-beanswrites]

A drabble for an anon asking about the prisoners watching their music videos! This is focused on specifically Mikoto’s initial shock at seeing MeMe for the first time, but just know that Double comes with a whole new set of shocks as he truly listens to John for the first time ;-;

Mikoto was no criminal. 

He didn’t know how to break into locked rooms, or hack into complex prison security systems. He figured there was no way in hell he’d be able to see these so-called incriminating videos that the Warden was recording, and had resolved himself to an eternity of wondering what they could be. He was shocked when he didn’t need to do a single thing to gain access to them – Es simply adjusted the computer monitor and told him he could hit play when (and if) he wished. Then they left the room.

“A-are you sure?” he called, but they were already gone.

Mikoto blinked at the screen. It showed a stretched version of his apartment couch, near his bathroom wall, broken to reveal sky above. He thought he could spot his tarot cards at the bottom of the frame. Had Milgram broken into his home to film this? 

He scoffed, and hit play.

Distorted guitar started up. He flinched as his own face appeared for a moment – looking directly into the camera and making a wild expression he would never have made if someone was recording. His body tensed up more as he heard his own voice start to sing lyrics he’d never spoken before in his life. He wasn’t even a good singer, and here he was sounding like a professional. 

There were plenty of ways to accomplish all of this, of course. Software could mimic one’s voice, making him say anything these crazy reality hosts wanted. A team could easily add some digital effects to a stunt double and match his appearance perfectly. Knowing that didn’t make the experience any less unsettling.

He watched himself commit a nasty murder. He watched himself return home bloodied. But it was all ridiculous. How could Milgram even claim that this was him? He’d never raised a hand to anyone in his life. Were the other prisoners’ videos as outlandish as this one?

But then, a switch. 

The song shifted to a new melody. He appeared to wake up from his couch, and suddenly Mikoto got the sense that this was him.

He was struck with how familiar this new segment sounded. It simultaneously felt like a favorite song he must have played on loop not too long ago, and one that he’d never heard before. As it played, each new note and lyric felt right on the tip of his tongue. 

It ended as quickly as it began. The song returned to the heavy-metal-murder aesthetic it had started with, and once again he felt like he was watching a cheap copy of himself onscreen. He watched another murder, a shower scene (had the warden seen all that? How embarrassing…) and then he turned to his bathroom mirror.

At the same time as his musical counterpart, Mikoto leapt backwards in horror. 

His eyes remained glued to the screen. His hand flew up to grab the lower half of his face. It was fake, he told himself. AI and CGI and all that. It was fake. It had to be. 

Something deep inside of him said “no. That’s real. That’s me.”

Something else deep inside of him echoed the sentiment.

The video was less than four minutes of music, but by the end he was panting and tugging at his hair as if he’d endured hours of prison torture. He burst out of the room. He sucked in breath after breath. The melodies still played in his mind, lines repeating in his memory as he tried to put as much distance between himself and that little television screen.

He found the others in the common room. They gave him a knowing look, but somehow he knew his experience had been very different from their own. Es approached him.

They studied his expression for a moment. Thankfully, they didn’t ask anything stupid, like “how did it go?” or “what did you think?” 

Instead, they just told him, “if you ever want to watch it again, just let me know, I can get it set up for you.”

He would want to see it again. Of course, it would be better, then. He would take a moment to calm down. He’d watch it later and everything would be okay. He’d have a clearer mind. He’d pick out all the little camera tricks they used to make it. He’d be sure it was a fake, and laugh about how ridiculous he was being now. 

Of course. Of course. 

He nodded to Es, unable to produce any words. Es left him.

The rules in this prison never made any sense, but in this case, he was grateful. He wouldn’t need to figure out any snooping or hacking to get access to the video again. After all, he was no criminal.

… he wasn’t, was he?

[solaestial]

i made some of my chrissell pics into wallpaper engine wallpapers 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

[justplaggin]

opening tumblr like

[magnusbae]

You’ve caused me to be absolutely obsessed with obikin to the point that i literally cant think about anything else and i havent even seen anything starwars related for years just thought i might let you know lmao

Also if you have any more fic recs i wouldnt say no 👉👈

It is red and alarming to draw your attention as yes I did— indeed— finally found a fic to recommend! only took me some 9 days but hey.

First thing first though— I am so infinitely pleased by being the cause of your demise— pardon, obsession. 😌😌😌

You've brightened my day by letting me know, and the only reason it had taken me time to respond was because I wanted to have a rec I would truly feel I can stand behind, start to finish!

So here we are~

Now, so far I had tried to give recommendations that would be vastly different in every sense of the word, however if you pay attention, there's one consistent link between the things I do feel like recommending— and it is consistency.

I firmly believe that consistency makes the story more than any level of quality or absurdness. As it happens to be, this fic possesses both consistency and quality :)

Speak no Evil by Exonerin

It's— tam tam tam~ an ABO AU! Yes, yes I know. While usually used for heavily kinky thematics, this one is.... rather different in many ways. If you've never tried abos or had read so many you've seen it all, or you've never really liked the whole notion— well this one, I feel like, can really fit all three case. Alternative ABOs is the thing I enjoy the most, non-classic, non-traditional sort of ABO world building is a joy to behold, truly. I urge you to try this one, as it is solid, wonderful and simply enjoyable start to finish. Firm Show-don't-Tell, extremely witty writing and language, solid characteristics and just— frankly, fun. Just fun. Nothing much else. I had a blast reading through this, and I think many more people would. I recommend trying this, even if ABO was never your thing. Trust me. 😌

Again, truly pleased to welcome you in this hell I had come to call a home, I do hope you enjoy this ride as it only gets wilder with time. 😌💞💖💕

P.S I forgot to say that this is by far, my absolutely most favorite portrayal of a top Obi-Wan. Me, every time Obi-Wan does something in this fic: 😳👉🏻👈🏻 haha. Take is as you may. 😌💖

[cuteniaarts]

@katkastrofa, circa 40-ish hours ago: Hey, what if our newest bunch of OCs adopted a baby from one of the other brothel girls who knew she couldn’t afford to raise one? That would make for some fun shenanigans :D

Me, with a notoriously non existent sleep schedule, instinct of self preservation or concern for my poor wrist: Alright, bet. Watch how fast I can make you fall in love with this hypothetical baby >:)

Daneli as a gentle and loving caretaker-turned-adoptive-mother is something that can be So Personal, actually, and originally I was going to leave it at this quick sketch, but then I got carried away thinking about what this child will grow up to be like raised by this little gang of misfits, so…

Here she is!! A little older and so, so beautiful, I need more of her in my life immediately, she’s way too precious

And, because I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t also add a sapphic element to this absolute cinnamon roll, a small crack ship that I’m only half serious about for when she’s a little older still:

All in all, we may be getting impossibly far from canon, but I for one already cannot get enough of sweet darling Kumisai <3

(I fully drew three pieces from scratch in 9 hours I cannot feel my brain or my hands anymore send help)

[wordsmithwhumpsandfluff]

Concussed Oliver (part 2)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The air in the waiting room felt tense.

Keiko was there before the girls had even gotten Oliver there. About twenty minutes after that, Jordan had the mind to call Isaac and tell him what had happened. The blonde was there in a flash, looking distraught.

None of them were saying anything. Eliana had an arm around Jordan’s shoulders, her lips pressed to the black-haired girl’s temple. Birdie had no fidget toy, so she’d started cracking her neck and picking at the skin on her hands to the point where she’d broke skin and was bleeding a bit, and Spirit had to find a pen for Birdie to click so she’s stop picking her hands.

Keiko was holding Amberlynn’s hand while Amberlynn just stared off at nothing. And Isaac just wouldn’t stop bouncing his foot while his heart raced.

“Oliver Brown?” a doctor said, coming into the waiting room. Eagerly, all of them stood and looked at the man.

“He’s fine,” the doctor said, and all of them sagged in relief. “Tests prove that it’s a mild concussion. He’s resting now. Have you contacted his family?”

“I called his parents,” Keiko answered. “They didn’t pick up, but I left voicemails and texts.”

“Can we see him?” Isaac asked, a bit of impatience in his voice.

The doctor opened a small sympathetic smile. “I can take you to his room now.”

— — —

There was a weird smell in the air when Oliver woke up. It smelled like bleach, and Oliver hated that scent. It just wasn’t pleasant.

There was a pulsing pain in his head, but not as bad as he remembered it being earlier. Still, his head felt like it was spinning.

When he squinted his eyes open a bit, getting the world into focus, Oliver first noticed that the room was dim but not pitch black. He then noticed that he wasn’t alone.

There was a small sofa in the corner of his room, and a chair beside it. Amberlynn and Keiko were curled up on the chair, and somehow, Eliana, Jordan and Birdie were all squished together on the couch. All of them were sleeping.

Spirit was sitting on the floor, on her phone. And Isaac was on a wheely chair by his bedside, asleep with his arms and head on the bed and holding Oliver’s hand in his.

Blinking a few times, he squeezed Isaac’s hand a bit. The little pressure made the blonde stir and lift his head a bit, blinking sleepily before he realized Oliver was looking at him. Suddenly, the blonde’s eyes widened and he whispered, “Olive?”

Oliver squeezed his hand again, smiling tiredly a bit. “Hi,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse and sore.

Isaac smiled back, looking relieved, and squeezed Oliver’s hand back.

“Hey, Oliver,” Spirit said from where she was sitting, having heard Isaac and Oliver whispering and realizing he was awake. She stood from where she was sitting and went to the opposite side of the bed from where Isaac was. “You gave us quite the goddamn scare.”

Oliver’s smile faltered slightly. “I’m sor—”

He was cut off by Spirit hugging him.

“How long was I out?” Oliver asked when Spirit pulled away, looking between her and the blonde.

“Since, like, five-thirty in the morning,” Spirit said with a shrug. "It’s almost 1pm. That’s why everyone’s asleep.”

“How the hell did you bump your head?” Isaac asked, shaking his head. “You guys were having a sleepover, and none of the girls knew how you rattled your damn brain. So, what happened?”

Oliver said nothing for a second. Then, his cheeks turned five shades redder, looking embarrassed. “I. . . I was dancing to the music that was playing while I took my shower, and I slipped and hit my head on the wall. I didn’t say anything ‘cause. . . yeah.”

Spirit raised a brow. “You were embarrassed about that? Oliver, Isaac is the moron who stood on a cafeteria table in middle school and screamed ‘food fight’, only to get no reaction from anyone. Slipping in the shower is nowhere near as embarrassing as that.”

Isaac shot a glare at Spirit. “Are you ever gonna let that go?”

“Never.”

Oliver chuckled a bit, only to wince when the bit of laughter made his head throb a bit.

“I’ll go find your parents and tell them you’re awake,” Spirit said to Oliver, and the boy’s eyes widened.

“My parents are here?!Why?!”

Isaac scoffed. “Because you busted your head. Duh.”

Spirit squeezed Oliver’s shoulder before walking to the door and leaving. With everyone else in the room still sleeping, it really felt like it was just Oliver and Isaac.

“You feeling alright right now?” Isaac asked. He was still holding Oliver’s hand.

“Yeah,” Oliver sighed, sinking back against his pillow. “My head hurts like hell and I’m wearing a paper gown instead of pants, but I’m fine.”

Isaac wheeled his chair to the side a bit so he was closer to Oliver’s head. Still holding Oliver’s hand with one hand, Isaac used his other to brush Oliver’s hair away from his face. He chuckled, looking at the wall. “Dancing in the shower,” he chuckled. “You’re in the hospital because you danced in the fucking shower!” Isaac began to laugh quietly, shoulders shaking.

Oliver flushed a bit, still slightly embarrassed, but then he also began to laugh quietly.

When their little quiet fit of laughter was over, Isaac squeezed Oliver’s hand again. “Next time, maybe take a bath,” he whispered.

Oliver squeezed back. “Yeah, I think I will. I don’t wanna ruin another sleepover by having to be driven to the hospital in the middle of the night.”

Isaac’s humorous look became slightly softer, and he bent down, hugging Oliver and not letting go. “I’m happy you’re fine.”

Oliver sighed, pressing his temple to Isaac’s. Then he chuckled and whispered, “Hell yeah, I’m fine. There’s no way dancing to fucking Grouplove was gonna be how I go out.”

[deityofhearts]

I haven’t acquired it yet but I convinced my roommates mom to give me this teapot lamp thing >:3