#this is vital guys

[mumblesplash]

he's not even that light impulse is just really strong

[macksartblock]

manifesting (finale's been recorded)

[columboscreens]

[nose-coffee]

i think that tlt fic writers (myself included) are sleeping on matthias nonius. i think we should be making more use of him! walk w me for a second, okay? this bitch became a name that readers associated with groaning and complaining and "boring" verse - only for him to come out swinging when he actually hit the page, thereby rending us all asunder. he saved the fucking day, against all odds, and he did it while speaking in meter!!! is that not sick as hell? is that not actually fucking hilarious?? this man is so powerful, he's so cool, he's got immense swag, and i think that if you play it right, having nonius fix whatever plot drama you have going oddly makes sense (the way it did in htn). using deus ex nonius in your fics is an option, and i think we could all benefit from it

[angermango]

hello,

black mirror

[technovillain]

[adxmanial]

guess who begun to learn blood magic

[youngyoo-apologist]

Kim Roksoo’s parents must have been really sweet and loving people.

Even with all the pain he experienced because of his uncle, and losing his parents, he still didn’t become a bad person when everything was set against him.

Like with the children averaging whatever years old, KRS takes care of them and is in general a good father(I mean I question his lack of communication towards his children, like please tell them you have a healing ability at least tell your kids dude please please please please please) but that’s just a general KRS problem coming from the years and years he spent relying only on himself for various reasons.

His parents probably loved him a lot, they cared for him and they showed him what it was like to be loved. That just makes the fact that they died so early on in his life more terrible. Kim Roksoo may not remember them well, but I like to think that when they were alive, he was happy.

[arealtrashact]

Take me to the distant past, I want to go back.

[golvio]

It might’ve been a good thing Ghirahim didn’t return for TotK, because a sword fight between circa-SkSw Ghirahim and TotK Ganondorf would’ve discharged so much homoerotic energy that my poor Switch would’ve burst into flames and melted my game cartridge.

[palestporn]

Gamzee: What those horns do tho

"So, uh, horns," you say, like a chill motherfucker who hasn't been throwing looks at this growly little motherfucker's head since you met him this morning.

"I've heard of them," he says, sass-mouthed little emperor with his tiny horns tossed like a challenge. Starts off toward the next block, and goes and takes the crown off his horns and peels his shirt off like it ain't no thing. You knew he was a solid little armful, but damn.

"Damn," you say, out loud, and he turns back to look at you like he's about to ask what's up and then sees you getting a full motherfucking ogle on and goes reddish at the ears and horns again.

"Yeah, yeah," he says, and waves off your looking at him. "So, horns?"

Oh shit, right. "Horns," you say back, and hurry on up to come after him. Are you supposed to take your shit off too? Way they trained it, if the emperor wants one of them touched he touches and if he wants their skin out he says so.

...Karkat turns away from you to fuck around with folding his shirt up, and shows you the whole length of his back, bared at you. You get kinda motherfucking stupid about it. Damn.

When you step up on him from behind him and put a hand real careful on the side of his neck, he goes tense and then eases slow--when you tilt back his head a little bit, he lets you.

"Out at the yellow, shit's about texture, I got told," you say, and just rest the blunt tip of a claw to the blunt tip of a horn. there's a little edge of ridge up and around; you can click the flat of a claw up along where it fades away, real light and slow. With his shirt off and his weight resting back on you, you can feel him shiver. "Gotta play nice if there's not a lot to get your grip on of, but you can rattle the fuck out of 'em if they're longer."

"Like yours," he says, intending at some shit. You had it shown at you how it feels to lock horns, not slamming against like a challenge but shifting around and clicking and catching together. Goes all down your posture column, like sparks. He's not got the horns, but you felt how strong his fronds are and he's sure the fuck got claws.

...Focus, motherfucker.

"Like mine, yeah," you say, and make distraction at yourself about how that might feel by sliding your grip on down and getting the heel of your frond right into the base of his horns.

You knew he'd like it, on account his ancestor's shit's been mapped and marked a hundred sweeps. But it still makes you feel like the emperor your own damn self, when he goes "Hhha, fuck," all shaky and sways back hard against you.

"Down at the red," you say, and press just like how you got taught, deep and slow, smoothing down his shaved-down hair along how it lays, not against it. "Gotta give some motherfucking pressure."

He says "Oh, fuck," again--and again, like it's about all he can think to say. Breathes slower, leans harder, grasps back and grips at you behind him. "Oh, shit."

"Gotta push harder than you figure," you say, for all your voice sounds cracked and not yours. "Head conciliatrix smacks the shit outta your knuckles if you go too light--feels like you're gonna hurt a motherfucker but if you get in there real good--"

You press again and he makes like to curse and only lets out a whine like pleading instead, crooning under it in his rattlebox. Bites it off embarrassed a second later, but holy shit. Fuck.

"--That shit'll undo knots all the way to the motherfucking ground if you do it right," you finish off, and for a beautiful miracle of a second you don't think about being pissed, or scared, or ghosts or emperors or any other bullshit. Just how he goes loose in your grip, barely keeping his feet. "Motherfucker, you sound so fucking good."

"I'll pay you back with interest," he croaks out, brave show but wavery. "In the evening. We need to sleep. Hha, shit. C'mon, 'coon."

"Tonight" again, huh? Lotta shit happening tonight. Who fucking knows how your life's gonna shake up by this time tomorrow morning.

You think you can just about motherfucking live with that.

[-END-]

[START OVER]

[marquezian]

if honda marini has zero fans im dead etc

[fatheroplants]

moments before disaster

[vaultlucy]

Mike Faist talks about auditioning for ‘Past Lives’, directed by Celine Song, who is married to ‘Challengers’ screenwriter Justin Kuritzkes

[luck-of-the-drawings]

ouhh ouhh the ol 'started as a scribble n then got RLY COOL' conundrum... i titled it 'flying microtonal FISH' bc i was listening to alot of THIS song (ANOXIA - KING GIZZARD AND THE LIZARD WIZARD. LISTEN TO IT) and i based the colors off of the album cover. this was also meant to be the scene right before the noctis arc, when gillion gets CRAAZy struck by lightning and acts all deranged through the storm. LOOOVE that fish i think he should kill more

[possiblytracker]

courtesy of the enablers in my notes, here is my Flamingo Wisdom gained from the catch today

first of all, a flamingo separated from its flock (as it has to be when you are moving that beast around) is kind of like a horse, in that it will freak the fuck out if a leaf so much as moves in the corner of its eye, and it really really really wants to break its stupid twig legs by any means necessary. and you really cannot let them do this, because they will probably die, but they are stronger than they look and despite their insane 70+yrs captive lifespan they appear pretty fucking determined to spectacularly remove themselves from this mortal coil. if they cannot kill themselves, they will simply attempt to kill something else; if you do not personally clamp their beaks shut using your entire hand they will reach around with their long stupid tube necks and start swinging without hesitation. they bite, and will rip out hair and earrings and whatever else in reach they can get their fucked up beaks on. several of the flamingos were covered in visible blood stains of unknown origin before even picking them up, and half the day was spent wondering if one had been attacked and was doing all this bleeding, but as far as i know nobody ended up finding any which left way more questions than answers

to transport a flamingo is a two-person effort, because they are so long and so desperate to fuck up themselves or whoever is around them that you need at least two sets of hands to pull it off safely. one person holds the flamingo facing backwards tucked under one arm kind of like a set of bagpipes. with the other arm you have to hold both legs apart, because if they are allowed to lash out you get fun accidents like "vet tech pummeled in the balls with full force of both flamingo feet at once, advised to leave premises". you have to hold the legs facing downwards, otherwise the circulation gets cut off, as they are physically incapable of pumping their own blood down there without the effects of gravity. the resulting effect looks kind of like you are holding a guitar wrong, or slow-dancing in a really fucked up way. it is also objectively impossible to place your hands on the bird in a way that you will not get pissed on.

the second person has to stand just behind the first and supervises the head, holding its beak shut as shown and supporting the neck in a comfortable position. some flamingos do not Have a comfortable position and will just spend the entire time wriggling and trying to bite you, which you just kind of have to deal with. you also get direct eye contact with the beast at all times, which is. interesting and unnerving

the only people handling them solo were the vet in charge of weighing the animals, the guy sticking them into the back of a van, and my boss, who stood in the corral chasing groups of them into a smaller pen for catching. every time a pair came to collect their next bird he would open the door to the pen, head in alone, you'd briefly hear the most fucked up cartoon fistfight-esque noises from inside, and about thirty seconds later he would reappear with an entire flamingo tucked casually under one arm like a football and just hand it to you. most baffling part of the entire experience, i think

despite the turbulence however they did make it safely to their new home :)