#then we’re all done!

[eirianerisdar]

Living room and entranceway finally done!

Details:

And an SF-23 diagram for the room corridor (kindly gifted by the artists of the big poster):

[samglyph]

I’m just excited I have an excuse to use my medieval fonts

[s0fter-sin]

the 141 recovering brainwashed!soap but he’s just a shell of his former self; never speaking, never moving without orders. he never even blinks; just stares straight ahead with his unnatural green eyes.

empty.

but ghost can't accept that.

price and gaz can't stand watching ghost torture himself day after day; visiting soap in his cell for hours at a time, trying anything he can think of to bring back his sergeant.

he shows him pictures of the 141 but soap thinks he's being given targets and moves to eliminate them before ghost stops him. he brings him his journal, tries to trigger his innermost thoughts and feelings he never shared with any of them, but after he reads it, soap summarises it like he's giving a mission briefing. impersonal.

cold.

it's late when ghost finally calls it; low and defeated after another long day of being stared at with eyes that don't see him. he isn't thinking when he pulls his mask off and harshly scrubs over his face, grinding his palm into his eye.

"don't worry, johnny; we're still fixin' each other's problems," he promises, little more than a whisper as he tries to summon the energy to leave johnny behind. again.

he pushes himself to his feet, his hand on the door handle when-

"what's my problem?"

ghost freezes, something like grief - something achingly closer to hope - chilling him. he slowly turns and though soap is still starring ahead, there's a faint light in his altered green eyes.

"the mask," he forces out. "take it off."

he knows there's no way to remove the mask - the muzzle - from his sergeant's face. it's too high-tech, even for them; the biometric scanner too advanced for any bypass they know of.

it's just another way he's failed him; bringing him home still bound in their enemy's chains.

soap- jolts; a sharp, almost painful looking flinch jerking his body.

"show my face?" and his voice has changed; no longer the monotone delivery that's haunted ghost's every waking moment.

it's smaller. uncertain. recollection of a memory half-destroyed.

"yes, johnny," he breathes.

soap moves unprompted for the first time since they found him; running his finger along the edge of the muzzle where his skin bulges from the pressure, half-visible scars hidden beneath the harsh metal.

"ugly," he murmurs.

ghost immediately shakes his head, almost stumbling back to the table; haphazardly throwing his mask on it. "quite the opposite," he insists.

it doesn't matter if he has no lower jaw left at all; johnny could never be ugly in his eyes.

agonisingly slowly, soap's eyes shift to the mask. he takes in the balaclava and hard shell skull like for all the times he's looked at it since his rescue, he never truly saw it. his lids fall in less of a blink and more stage curtains closing; slow, heavy, requiring effort and no small amount of strength to open once more

"good... to see you again..." he trails off, his hand shifting up to the top of his shaved head; nails digging unforgivingly into his scalp

"simon," ghost finishes for him; that horrid grieving hope tearing at his heart

soap's fingers flex and a drop of blood trails down his forehead, over the ridge of his nose to catch on the muzzle. "s-simon..."

his nails dig deeper, the drop falling to the table just to be followed by more and ghost aches to stop him but he's terrified to interrupt him. terrified to lose him now when he's so close to something.

soap's bloodied nails scratch down the crown of his head, following the line of his stolen mohawk until they come to rest on the back of the muzzle and ghost's heart drops.

they can’t get it off.

they can't get it off and he doesn't know how to explain that to soap; doesn't know if he can stomach watching soap pull at the monstrosity holding him captive, the inevitable bloodbath as the edges cut into his skin.

"show my face," soap repeats.

"johnny..." ghost begins weakly, reaching out to him but he doesn't know how, doesn't know if he even should-

the muzzle clatters onto the table.

the biometrics they couldn't bypass, the fingerprint they needed that they were so sure belonged to makarov.

it belonged to soap.

how cruel to torture him with freedom he didn't understand he could take; didn't even understand he could want.

just the kind of sick game makarov loves.

ghost doesn't know what's louder; his heart pounding in his ears or the long, uninhibited breath soap takes.

his eyes fall shut as he leans his head back with it, the blood still dripping down his face as he straightens through his exhale. his lower jaw is a mess of scars where he fought against the previous iterations of the muzzle, the corners of his lips cut through and cracked.

but the green in his eyes is duller; that light sparking brighter as blue struggles to break through the glow.

ghost's never seen anything so beautiful.

"good to see you again, johnny."

[steampunkedemon]

idk but saying tyler being a manipulative serial killer means he can’t be with wednesday is genuinely so funny to me like baby this is the addams family we’re talking about. being a manipulative serial killer should put him at the top of the viable choices for wednesday list.

[phoenixmetaphor]

bonus:

[ahappyphjl]

🧡 cozy under a blanket after watching wad 🧡

[0vergrowngraveyard]

He still remembered the first time he called Tails “lil’ bro” out loud. The kit’s reaction was unforgettable.

It felt natural to Sonic. He’d already been referring to the kit as his little brother to cashiers and any other stranger who got nosy and asked what a blue hedgehog was doing with a two tailed fox kit without either of their parents around. They always gave him an odd look but that didn’t matter. He didn’t exactly care what these people he’d probably never see again thought of his and Tails’ little life. They weren’t in it so they didn’t get to have an opinion about it.

However, he apparently never voiced the whole little brother thing to the kit himself. Part of him didn’t think he needed to and that it was pretty obvious that they were basically family at this point. Sure it had only been a few months since they met, but Sonic only needed a few months to decide that this kid was his and there wasn’t anything anyone could do about it.

In hindsight, he probably should’ve realized that Tails wouldn’t have come to that conclusion. He knew they were friends, best friends even, but Sonic could tell that the kid was still nervous about the whole situation between them. Whenever he thought he did something wrong, he always had this scared look in his eyes as he apologized over and over again. It was like he was still expecting the hedgehog to just dump him somewhere and leave him alone again.

There was also the chance that he just didn’t have a very good opinion of families. With his biological one being completely out of the picture and all, Sonic would have been surprised if it left a sour taste in his mouth. Then again, this theory hinged on the idea that he actually remembered his parents which he didn’t seem to, so it was safe to say that it probably wasn’t the case.

(There was a secret third option that had suggested that Tails simply didn’t see him as an older brother figure. Sonic didn’t like to think about that one too much.)

When he finally called Tails “lil’ bro” out loud, the kit stared up at him with the biggest blue eyes he’d ever seen. They almost reminded him of the light blue chaos emerald with how much they were sparkling. Tails asked over and over if he meant it, that he really did see him as a little brother and barreled into the hedgehog when he confirmed. The kid pricked himself on a few quills but he didn’t seem to care, his namesakes spinning in happy circles all the same.

It had been maybe three weeks since then.

Tails never really called him his big brother in public, or in private really. Any time someone asked him who he was with, he’d just silently pointed over at Sonic. When asked what their relationship was, he just fidgeted nervously and ran over to the hedgehog, making it so that Sonic had to explain that they were brothers.

He never held it against the kit, figuring that he was just nervous. He was never comfortable around strangers for obvious reasons so it made sense that he wouldn’t talk to them.

He was just a quiet and anxious kid. That's all it was.

The memory faded away as the sound of a small coughing fit brought him back to reality. He slowly sat up and stretched, looking around their campsite for the source of the noise only to find the culprit where’d he’d been for the past few days now. Sonic sighed and made his way over to him.

The duo hadn’t moved in almost a week. Tails had caught a pretty bad flu and Sonic didn’t want to force him to fly around the zone or travel at supersonic speeds in general. He didn’t think that kind of thing would do him very good when what he needed was fluids and sleep.

Sonic sat down next to the sick kit who had conked out again after his quick coughing fit. He took his glove and put the back of his hand on the fox’s forehead. Tails was still burning up, his fur was damp with sweat and his sinuses still audibly congested as his small body fought off the intruder.

He sighed again as he put his glove back on. They were nowhere near any hospitals where the kid could lay down in an actual bed and be looked over by professionals. Instead, all he had was the ground, a pillow and blanket, and some broke eleven year old.

Luckily, Sonic had enough money to quickly run off and buy some medicine for the kid but that was pretty much it. His wallet was empty except for a few coins and they were running low on food. Last he checked, they only had two cans of chili left. That was dinner tonight and tomorrow, they’d have to skip breakfast and lunch which wasn’t good for the sick fox.

The medicine made Tails sleep for most of the day so he couldn’t see as Sonic’s worries and doubts started eating the hedgehog alive.

Had he made the right call when he decided to stop looking for a suitable family for the kit? What did he have to offer him, especially right now? He wasn’t fit to be watching over a little kid by any means. They ate the same thing every day, sometimes they didn’t eat at all, Sonic was far from a good influence, and their life was full of potential danger. Chaos, the kid had gotten grabbed by Robotnik a few times and almost used as a living battery for one of his robots.

To top it all off, Sonic himself was still a kid. What did he know about raising someone?

He loved Tails, he really did. Without fail, he looked forward to seeing him the next day and continuing their little adventure to save the island one zone at a time. He loved the little guy’s laugh, his smile, the way he tilted his head when he was confused and all his other quirks that made him who he is. For a bit, he kinda thought it was weird for an eleven year old to have a four year old best friend. But when that four year old just so happens to be the coolest kid you’ve ever met and will ever meet, it really can’t be helped.

But as much as he adored his little tagalong, this wasn’t something he could be selfish about. Part of him was starting to regret telling Tails that he saw him as family and getting his hopes up because if this didn’t work out after all-

“Mmm…Sonic?” A quiet little voice weakly called out as its owner temporarily returned to the waking world.

Sonic snapped out of his self loathing and directed his attention towards the kit, “Hey, bud. How you feelin’?” He asked, putting a hand on the kit’s head and gently petting him.

“m’body still aches… ‘nd m’nose is still stuff-“ he cut himself off with one sneeze, then another, “stuffy…”

He went to wipe his nose with his paw, but Sonic beat him to it as he cleaned off his little brother’s muzzle with a small scrap of cloth. “Well, you still feel pretty warm. You wanna try drinking some water?”

The kit’s watery eyes stared off into space as he thought about it before he gave a small nod that was barely visible. Sonic helped him sit up, wincing at how his ears drooped and how limp his tails were. The fox rubbed his eyes with the back of his paw and let out a squeaky yawn as Sonic fetched the big water bottle he had stolen from the pharmacy he got the medicine at.

(He probably could’ve stolen the medicine too and saved some money. What would they have done? Chase after him?)

He handed the bottle to the kit and put a hand on his back as Tails slowly brought the bottle to his mouth and drank, making sure not to spill any even in his state of delirium.

When he was done, he handed the bottle back to Sonic who put the cap back on and set it to the side. “That any better?”

Tails nodded, “mm-hm…it tasted good.”

Sonic chuckled at the kid’s slurred words, a firm indicator that he was once again fading quickly, “I’ll bet. Why don’t you lay back down and get some more sleep, bud.”

He nodded again and laid back down, tails weakly curling around him as Sonic tucked him in nice and snug.

“Sonic?”

“Tails?”

“Why’d you look sad earlier?” The fox asked, fighting against his heavy eyelids to stay awake a little longer.

The hedgehog blinked at him, “You were awake?”

Tails shifted a bit, “Mm…kinda..b’also kinda not..”

Sonic lifted his hand to the kit’s head, scritching behind his ear and trying to ignore just how warm he felt, “You sure you weren’t just imagining things? You might’ve just been out of it, kiddo.”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly, “i ‘unno..maybe..” he nuzzled into his pillow, “b’ you looked pretty upset…”

“I’m all good, bud.” Sonic promised, “You just gotta worry about getting better so we can get back to kick Ro-butt-nik’s butt, alright?”

Tails nodded and finally allowed his eyes to close, “M’sorry i got sick…”

“No need to apologize for that, lil’ bro.” He shook his head, “I’ll wake you up when it’s time for dinner, alright?”

“okay big bro…” was the last thing the fox managed to get out before he fell asleep for what would be the next few hours.

He continued scritching until he made sure the kit was out. He then pulled his hand back and just stared at him.

Big bro…

It shouldn’t have meant so much to him, it really shouldn’t have, but Sonic couldn’t help the smile that forced its way onto his muzzle as fondness filled his entire chest, squeezing him tight.

Never in a million years did he ever think he’d be called someone’s brother, let alone be part of a family. He always thought that kind of life would weigh him down and force him to stop moving.

He thought he’d hate it and yet here he was, in the middle of Hill Top Zone with the only person in Mobius he considered to be family.

He wouldn’t want it any other way.

He placed the water bottle in arm’s length of the fox just in case as he picked up the dirty cloth and ran down to the river nearby to wash it off for later use. When he returned, he put it back in the backpack and got out their cooking supplies and a can of chili to start making dinner.

Maybe he wasn’t the most qualified to be looking after a four year old, but that didn’t mean he was about to quit just because he’d hit a rough spot.

This kid was his, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do about it. Not even his own self doubts.

[indelicateink]

as an american, sam reid’s total inability to hide his contempt for overly fake-chipper american journalists, especially ones who Have Not Done The Assigned Reading know and care about the show, will never not be hilarious and iconic to me

[anna-scribbles]

thirteen update 🎄⭐️🤕🩸

chapter 3: December

chapter summary:

“Has that been happening a lot?” Adrien asked quietly. “Your dad, getting sick like that?”

Felix’s eyes trailed slowly back over to him, face impassive.

“Yeah.”

“Me too. Well, with my maman, I mean.”

Felix’s eyes went wide, and he sat up quickly. He looked at Adrien, alarmed.

“Your mum?” He asked frantically. “Adrien, your mum’s been getting sick?”

excerpt:

It was snowing outside and Adrien couldn’t remember the English word for “exhausted.”

“Try again,” said his tutor, Mr. Ferrel, in bored English. Frown lines creased along his brow. “Tell me about your ambitions. Why don’t you tell me how you feel about your exciting modeling opportunities, Adrien?”

Big fluffy snowflakes kept getting stuck to the tall windows on the other side of his room, painting his periphery in white. He thought distantly of old winters when he was little, when he’d beg to go lay down in the snow and make angels.

“I have many ambitions,” Adrien began, trying to translate and conjugate the English verbs before they left his mouth. “I like to be a student because I like reading and learning new subjects. It is very interesting. Now, I spend many time modeling, so this is one of my ambitions too.”

His English lessons had doubled in length recently, ever since Adrien had made a fool of himself in last week’s Teen Vogue interview. When asked about school, he’d mentioned that he was studying two languages, and flubbed the bit of English he’d been prompted to demonstrate. Adrien didn’t mind the extra lessons so much—he really did like learning languages—but by the end of the three hours, his brain was always swimming in words.

“Much time modeling,” Mr. Ferrel corrected. “Or ‘a lot of.’ Not ‘many.’”

“Sorry,” Adrien responded. “I do much time modeling—”

“It’s ‘spend,’ not ‘do.’” Mr. Ferrel frowned. “‘Doing time,’ in English, makes it sound like you are in prison. I believe you are supposed to like modeling.”

“I like it.” Adrien’s cheeks burned. “I like spending a lot of time modeling—”

The door to his bedroom flew open, saving him from further embarrassment, and Adrien and Mr. Ferrel both turned their heads. Maman glided through the doorway like a glimmer of light. She was dressed casually, in simple black jeans and a thick white sweater, her golden hair braided loosely to the side. A bright smile lit up her face.

“Adrien, darling!” she cried. “Come downstairs, it’s time!”

read on ao3

[emmedoesntdomath]

percy, facedown on the table: I’m so stupid 

nico, laughing at him: yes, yes you are-

annabeth, from across the room: no 

percy:

nico:

percy, sitting up and clearing his throat: you know, I suddenly feel better. the world is such a beautiful place. I’m doing great, actually. 

[dragon-subway]

Steel wool is so cruel for making us just leave her there without even a proper goodbye

[harringroveera]

Billy: Another life?

[fairmerthefarmer]

Hadestown poster concept!!

I comPLETELY forgot about this, I think I made it for fun maybe right around graduating college, or sometime teetering on my college/PMDD/endo/newfound chronic pain burnout. (I think I discovered hadestown sometime in my second or third year and I’ve adored it since, might be my top musical. Definitely top 5)

It’s kind of oldish now but I think it’s still pretty good! I’ve gotta do more stuff like this!

[theriu]

People will look at a character who doesn’t have family/parents or their family/parent(s) die early and be all “look how TRAGIC and MEANINGFUL it makes their NARRATIVE, it’s so MOTIVATING” but no as a writer listen to me. It’s usually because we’re lazy. And accounting for a bunch of family dynamics is a lot of extra work that is keeping us from just getting on with the Adventure and/or Smooches. I am scolding us as a community for this behavior.

[mickeym4ndy]

You can spend a lot of time trying to justify everything a character has done, and it’s great to look at the reasoning behind their actions that people might not understand.

But you can also sometimes say yea it’s understandable why they did it but it was still a shitty thing to do, and that’s okay. Humans make mistakes, your favourite characters will too. It’s ok. It doesn’t make them bad people.