#yeah sure that belongs there

[glitchdollmemoria]

new drink or maybe a potion which i call the Condensed Adulthood + name reasoning annotations

3 week old cream soda (cannot drink all at once due to increasing health concerns)

vanilla ice cream from a tub of ice cream which youve been eating from directly whenever the hankering arises (health concerns again) (no one can make me use a bowl)

cheap (im poor) vodka (i can drink as much as i want forever)

use however much of whatever you want because life is finite

[zehl0w]

Zenitsu agatsuma has got to be the biggest egg I have ever seen in my entire life

[fourswords]

to be quite honest shadow's characterization in the fsa manga was always something that raised more questions than answers for me because it's like. he's got a mile-wide inferiority complex about being link's shadow we all know this but when did he have the time to develop that inferiority complex in the first place. how long was he lurking around after ganon created him before the events of the manga actually started. what did he witness or hear or both to make him so fucking angry

[sugarcarnation]

thinking about how ultimately it was dazai who was too sentimental to stay in the mafia

[hussyknee]

Even funnier than the tweet is the seething cope in the replies at the fact that Jesus was a Jew from West Bank. 💀

[boysborntodie]

You all have no idea how much I think about the ‘Dally has religious trauma’ headcanon

[n4rval]

FUN VALUE 62: The Eccentric Genius

Isn't it odd how firsts are seconds? As in, should we consider the order of exposure by FUN value or follower number? Though I suppose goners are not meant to be linear at all. This is why all of the Followers reiterate that central piece of the story, yet, each of them offer an unique perspective that helps us piece together not only Dr. W.D. Gaster's current condition, but who he is as a character.

No, there is no typical way to look at a character who defies the very notion of a written script. To be atypical among the already strange, to fit right in yet feel so obviously alien, the sole lump of hard coal among shiny gems.

It makes sense why ASGORE took so long to hire a new Royal Scientist.

After all, the old one... Dr. Gaster. What an act to follow!

They say he created the CORE.

Coal that burns the most effectively and brings light to all around him, in more ways than one. Impossible only until someone steps forward and makes it possible, to pursue the most absurd of ideas and be stared at with either unease or awe, to make it an act to follow.

From the occasional inconvenient property damage, the unecessarily bulky gadget that looks like it came straight out of a cartoon ...

... to the grand opening speech nobody got a single word of but applauded for the flashy lights anyway.

However, his life... Was cut short.

One day, he fell into his creation, and...

Will Alphys end up the same way?

This bit can be particularly misleading at first glance, alluding to the idea of an accident or, possibly, a suicide of sorts. We already know how this bit played out, however, the mention of either instance is purposeful in a way the ideas complement each other.

To be special is to be strange, and loneliness is often the price of brilliance. It can be difficult to escape feelings of alienation when people seem to get along so naturally without having to make a conscious effort to understand and be understood. This parallel with Alphys isn't only due to their shared position, but the taxing demand for excellence that comes with it in exchange for belonging.

It wouldn't be a absurd to speculate that, possibly, Alphys would one day have a manic episode that would both be her greatest stunt and her last breath in this earth. Ah, but this is where they deviate, isn't it?

Beloved Dr. Wacky Dingus, too in love with life to leave it, yet never satisfied not to risk it - who continues to offer mystery and wonder, once through light, now through dark.

[lunaticus]

yeah zoro and luffy knew usopp would come around and apologize post-w7, but the agony leading usopp to apologize bc his friends - the friends he had just fought with against the world government, and for some minutes he had taken off his mask and been part of the crew again as himself - those friends now really set sail with their new ship and their new shipwright, two better replacements for merry and him, and they ignored him, they didn't listen to him, they didn't want him back, they didn't need a liar, a burden, a weakling, a coward, and there's shame and other emotions with anger being the easiest one to handle, they leave him they leave him they leave him, and no matter what he can't let it end like this, not after everything they went through, he had to be honest at least in the end, but honesty was hard and they were leaving without him, they didn't need him, they had a new ship, they had an excellent shipwright that would take care of their new ship, so much better than he ever could, and franky was such a great guy, they wouldn't even notice him gone, and even though there were things he could do that he others couldn't, it didn't matter in that moment bc they were leaving, without him, sick of his lies and cowardice and him, they were being attacked and finally nobody had to watch out for him, protect him, save him, he would have been no help there on the ship at all, so there was really only one thing left to do before he was all alone, alone like he had never been since his mother died and that nearly broke him but he didn't have time for that right now bc *his crew* was leaving and he had to say sorry, he had to-

and suddenly he is on the ship, with the crew, with everyone and he's crying and luffy's crying and there are a lot more other tears than anyone would have expected while fleeing from the marines attack together together together, they didn't leave him, they didn't not want him back, they wanted him-

...

you ever think normally about w7? :)))

[pinkmirth]

it’s so hard for me to imagine alucard in a modern au . . . like what in the world is he doing in the city?!

[foxxsong]

Reminder that hypermobility is not just being a bit more flexible than normal and that if you use someone "just" being hypermobile as a reason to claim they don't count as chronically ill/physically disabled you're an uneducated ableist POS! :)

Did you know that if someone is hypermobile, it actually LIMITS their mobility in some ways? Did you know it frequently causes chronic pain? Did you know that hypermobile people are both more likely to dislocate joints than non-hypermobile people AND are less likely to seek professional medical care when it happens? Did you know that some hypermobile people have to use mobility aids because of their hypermobility? Actually, did you even know that hypermobile people can also be extremely inflexible? Turns out that when your muscles are having to constantly over-compensate to prevent your joints from popping out, they tend to get a bit tense and uncooperative!

Hypermobility is a physical disability and can be a severely limiting one, and it is SHITTY to imply that people with it are just using it as an easy way to claim a "physical disability card". If I catch you saying this shit IRL, I'm gonna hit you with my forearm crutches that I use so my hips don't dislocate in public.

[rambling-robot]

a common thing in my experience with indie horror (i'm specifically talking about video games and animation) is that a lot of it references other, often well-known horror stories. sometimes it's just a cute little "ahaha yes the clowns are from space" or a bloody elevator moment. but i'm not super familiar with a lot of popular horror (ie Stephen King), so there are a lot of things i won't get and i'll end up associating it solely with what i'm watching. a youtube analysis explaining all of the references can be helpful with understanding some of what i just saw, but i'm not going to re-watch it and go, "oh, wow, this is just one long rip-off of references." i'm going to go, "oh wow, this makes more sense with the newly-gained background knowledge. what an incredible work of art." art referencing other art to make new art or something like that. love it.

[daisychainsandbowties]

thinking a normal amount about a treasure planet au. Beatrice on her solar kiteboard, doing the daredevil flip sequence framed against the setting sun and then getting hauled kicking and screaming back to her parents’ house in manacles with a defiant expression on her perpetually dirt-smudged face.

climbing out the window at the first opportunity to go down to the dockside inn, making nebulous plans to steal her kiteboard back but ending up down at the edge of the dock staring past her boots and into the mists. gripping tight to the wood beneath her as she looks up at the sky and dreams of anywhere but here, of stealing a skiff to get off this planet. a reluctant twinge at the thought of going alone.

Bea with all her star maps and her intricate knowledge of spaceships and their solar sails and how to navigate out there where the artigrav net is all that stands between you and floating through nothing, forever.

startling when she hears the familiar sound of someone booking it down the pier on wooden crutches. night has already started to speckle the sky above, and as she listens to the thunk of the crutches on the pier, Bea thinks of the complicated metallic lattice she has on her desk at home, partly disassembled because she’s still trying to work out parts of the engineering. Ava’s birthday is in a month.

she has to stay that long, and then she’ll leave. she will.

turning to watch as Ava races towards her with soup stains on her shirt and messy hair jammed flat beneath a ‘pirate’ hat she bought off of a traveling salesman last year. the tricorn wobbles precariously on her head as she moves. Beatrice just waits, a slight smile on her face.

there are bruises high on each of her arms, from the pincer-like grip of the police bots, manhandling her away from her kiteboard to snap manacles around each wrist.

she rubs at the skin there, but ignores the bruises.

when Ava arrives, a little out of breath, Beatrice holds up a hand so she can help herself down onto the pier. there’s no water beneath them, only a few hundred meters of empty air and curling mist.

Ava keeps one hand on Bea’s and the other on her shoulder, letting the crutches clatter down between them as she sits.

“Mom says you got arrested again,” Ava says cheerfully. “She says they’re threatening to send you to prison.”

Beatrice shrugs, “I wouldn’t mind it, so long as my parents did not visit.”

Ava’s fingers are covered in bright red band-aids, from chopping vegetables all day with her poor hand dexterity. Beatrice watches the colours blur as Ava punches her in the arm, right on the bruises. “Liar, I know you’d miss me.”

her arm throbs painfully, but Beatrice’s expression is carefully neutral as she responds. 

“I might.”

she stays with Ava that night, both of them reading her old book with its floating images of ships and canons and pirates leaping from vessel to vessel. Captain Flint, materialising out of empty space to steal away gems and gold, “the loot of a thousand worlds.” Ava traces the projected lines of the solar sails with her fingers as they flicker into being. 

Beatrice has repaired the book over and over, making the colours brighter and sharper. the tiny shapes of pirates all made up of light. Ava has the book open on Bea’s chest as she lies next to her, legs all entangled in the sheets they’ve kicked off because the night is so warm.

she seems oblivious to how Beatrice’s breath hitches at almost every touch.

they’re almost asleep when they hear the explosion, a ship crashing into the cliff-side, tumbling over and over before they hear the pop and hiss of heated metal. a bloom of smoke outside the window.

Beatrice gives Ava a piggyback ride down the stairs just before Ava’s ‘mom’, Suzanne, emerges with her pulse-rifle primed, hair loose around her shoulders.

they stumble into the yard and discover a pirate, a robot, still bleeding from a wound in his abdomen, crawling from the wreck of his ship. Beatrice heaves a shard of twisted metal away from him and finds the surface slippery with blood.

behind her, Ava sways a little, shivers in the cold air, but she’s still standing when Beatrice turns back to her.

the dying pirate tells them almost nothing useful. he’s half-mad, cluching at Beatrice’s shirt until the seams tear at the collar, then turning to Ava. he fetches out a lockbox from his ship, blood spilling onto the ground at the movement. unlocks it and takes odd sphere from inside.

it drops into Ava’s palm as he rasps, “Whatever you do, don’t let them find it.”

then he wheezes, shudders, stills.

they stare at him, Ava’s free hand finding Bea’s, holding tight.

“Is he… dead?” Ava’s voice in the silence and the dark.

“I think so.”

then, in a burst of light and sound, in a shockwave of displaced air, a ship plummets down out of the clouds, pulling up an instant from the ground.

this second ship looms down out of the sky, pirates dropping from it and suddenly Suzanne is screaming at them to “GET INSIDE” from an upstairs window as she takes potshots at the misshapen shapes swarming down lines of hempen rope.

the air lights up with orange and yellow as explosions ripple down towards the crashed ship, towards the inn. Bea flings one of Ava’s arms around her neck and sprints for the door, Ava holding the sphere (or map?) tightly against her chest.

she sets Ava down gently onto one of the bar stools, runs back to barricade the door. her face is flushed, streaked somehow with engine grease and robot blood, which is black and slightly acidic. 

they exchange a wide-eyed look, too much meaning in it to parse as explosions rock the floor. Ava has both hands clutched around the sphere. 

they both almost scream as Suzanne runs down the stairs in a blur of dressing gown and gun. she has Ava’s crutches in one hand and her rifle in the other. she kisses Ava quickly on the forehead, “Thank the tides you’re safe.” leaves her with the crutches and then goes to fetch an ancient-looking blaster pistol out from behind the bar, presses it into Beatrice’s hands. “You know how to use this?”

“No!”

“Aim it away from your own face.”

and then there are pirates all around the house, glass breaking and fire crackling. Beatrice takes up the rear, pistol pointed at the front door as it bulges under the pressure of pirates flinging their bulk into it again and again. 

they climb out of a window, Suzanne producing a kitchen knife and jamming it into the neck of a pirate loitering uncertainly outside the bolted shutters. there, covered by a tarp, is Suzanne’s old motorcycle with a sidecar attached. lantern-bugs scatter out from under it as Suzanne throws the old tarp away, gestures for Beatrice and Ava to climb in as she covers them with her rifle.

there’s a roar from somewhere in the dark and Suzanne fires a shot, hops onto the motorcycle and revs the engine. then they’re moving, pirates parting before them like the ocean neither of them have ever seen, the vast bodies of water that don’t even exist on this planet.

they seek refuge with Jillian, an archaeologist who frequents the old inn, claiming that she can’t make her coffee taste of anything but soap. she examines the orb, reluctantly passed into her hands by Ava, her and Bea wrapped in an old blanket, sitting by the fire in Jillian’s immense study.

Jillian fiddles with it for an age before sighing, looking almost angry with herself.

“I can’t… seem to make this work.”  

Ava holds out her hand, silent. “let me try,” and Beatrice makes a face at Jillian when she hesitates.

the pirate gave the sphere to Ava; it’s hers. 

it seems much larger in Ava’s small grip. she looks down at it for a while before her fingers start to move, slow but gathering momentum as she presses the little grooves and switches and indents on the sphere. 

until it lights up, showing a map of the known universe, and parts of it that are unknown.

“Is that-” Beatrice feels her words drop away, like the ground beneath the pier where she has passed so many hours sitting with Ava’s hand in hers.

Ava turns to Beatrice, eyes bright as a pair of stars, “It’s treasure planet.”

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

Gee that's a tough call. The family he's had for 12 years including the two kids he's been raising, or the strangers he's known for maybe a few weeks just using him as a bodyguard in fucking France where he has a bounty on his head

[lowstakesvampires]

PMD crossover AU with the Low Stakes vampires hell yeah let's go

bonus:

[pocketramblr]

Time and the Deity

I am thinking of a land saved by a little boy, that saved a little boy.

Termina watched the stranger soothe the pains of another child gone, and gave him another song, another bit of magic. He acted to save. Termina's heroes were dead or dying, so the land gave them to the boy to strengthen him, to reforge a new living hero.

And he blossomed in this, collected such happiness, dragged the land back from the brink again and again and again, until he could save everyone. Until he and the land and the power shaped a deity, and did save everyone that had poured life into them.

And that deity is Termina too - it's people, their gratitude. Gratitude so divine it could cleanse a demon- or change a human into more.

But then the boy left Termina. And the deity is not known in Hyrule, not needed in Hyrule. The hero child isn't either.

Come back home, the god in mask calls. Come back to Termina. We need you. Why did you leave?

The child says nothing and ignores the call. He is looking for someone else. Someone that left him without a word.

But eventually, years later, he needs the god again- he puts the mask back on and draws a divine sword.

The enemies fall at his feet. And then his feet step over the bodies, moving back towards Termina. He cannot stop, he cannot turn the direction of home, the ranch, his wife and life there now- the god of Termina can move once more, and he is going back.

So the hero, no longer a child, cuts the godhood off him.

He can't put the mask back on, ever. If he does he will be whisked away to another world, and he won't come back. It's a beautiful world, Termina, one that he loves and is grateful to- but he chose to leave. After everything he has lost, he will not lose that too.