There was a post that went around a while back (like, a year ago) saying like ‘It’s good plotwise that Steven doesn’t go to school because it means it avoids a lot of formulaic Standard Cartoon Plots’ and one of the things they listed as a ‘you know what would happen’ example was ‘the gems would form Alexandrite to go to a parent-teacher conference’ but like here’s the thing
–they wouldn’t form Alexandrite to do that
–they’d just go
And based on that realization my brain formulated this entire episode idea where they go and they all sit at the kid’s desks like parents do on curriculum night and Garnet just gets her leg stuck in a desk because they’re made for human-sized humans and Greg is like ‘you can’t just break it that’s taxpayer funded’ so the two of them and a teacher spend the whole time just hanging out, talking about kids, while Garnet tries to gently free herself from the desk and she finds a confidant in this teacher who also has to be a staid leader in chaotic situations involving a group of people from diverse experiences and they become coffee buds
Meanwhile, sans supervision, Amethyst builds and elaborate fort out of gym mats and sits in the middle eating a horde of Uncrustables from the cafeteria, and Pearl gets in an argument with some science teachers and proceeds to throw the prime directive out the window with both hands
Q: did something come to mind? Eren: My mother’s cooking … though I’ll never taste it again , But I liked the stew he made .
Q: tastes like home. Eren: when I think about it I want to eat it. I wonder If Mikasa remembers how to make it …
Q: You were raised together so she might have carried on the recipe Eren: I see …. Next time, I’ll try asking her to make it.
Q: That seems pretty standard.What’s your best dish? Mikasa: I grew up in the mountains…so a pheasant and vegetables dish. On
break days I’ll occasionally cook recipes that mom or aunt Kalura (Carla)
taught me, and then eat it with Eren and others.
Q: Eren must love having a taste
of home. Mikasa: Ah…I hope so.
when eliot got back from his first tour of duty, a year away, a year killing people and getting shot at (new scars and new ink to show for it), nothing was the same. he didn’t bother telling his father. a year is not long enough to cool the hatred he’d felt the day he’d left. aimee had moved to kentucky. eliot stayed with her for a month before the itch started again and he found himself shipping off, back to some private military company to run recon and retrieval. just under the legal line. this was his first taste of blood.
that was when he got his first offer. his first offer from a man named damien moreau. an offer to work with him, ability to climb the ranks and helluva good pay. that was what drew eliot to the flame in the first place. a chance to put his anger somewhere. it helped that moreau was good at talking. he was twenty two when he started working for moreau.
he started with his nose in the dirt, collecting money, breaking arms. it took him six months to stop drawing the short stick. the thing about moreau is the higher up you are, the easier you are for him to manipulate. after the first year, eliot was moreau’s right hand, always beside him. loyalty is hard won but not hard kept. eliot found himself clambering gladly into bed with a crime boss.
eliot learned not to tell moreau no. eliot stood by his side, got his hands dirty, lost parts of himself. he dipped his hands in blood and relished the way it felt between his fingers. a structure was provided. structure he’d had before, but had been looking for again. and more.
he wouldn’t realize until much later that he had lost the larger parts of himself, that he had been used and molded and shaped into little more than a tool. he wouldn’t realize until later that, while valuable, he was easily replaced. a man can grow fond of certain tools, but they remain just that. tools.
he worked for moreau for four years. until the day moreau asked him to do something. he didn’t hesitate. he did it. but when he was finished… when he stared at his work and felt dead eyes staring at him and he could smell it on him and taste it on his lips and see, really see what dirty hands had gotten him, eliot found the strength to tell moreau no. and moreau had to let him go. his tool would not be used against him. not this time.
Remember that time long ago when I made Error and Blueberry talk sprites? I found the old files and…. converted them into a human base…. sooo…. GLOOMVERSE TALK SPRITES AHAHA. I WILL make more, probably Harold next… B/c I really don’t feel like crying over Assistant’s hair in the next century.
Please excuse how wonky they look… The program I use tends to make the left side look thicker for some reason?? Idk.
So a year ago I got my heart shattered by a girl who made me promise to never leave her. A girl who loved dating a musician but couldn’t handle an artist. A girl who was threatened by my ambition and big dreams and who tried to make me give them up. One year later I am still here, rebuilt; getting ready to release my very first studio-recorded album, enjoying time with endlessly supportive friends and learning to love myself more every day (ok most days;). So I guess what I’m trying to say is: never let anyone limit you from what you know you are capable of. Follow your dreams right to the fuckin moon and don’t let anyone tell you you can’t. I thought I would never love anything more than that girl but now I’m actively making my life something I can love just as much.
A super late birthday fic for the sweet and adorable @mrsashketchum. She had sent this prompt in forever ago, and I finally wrote it for her bday!! You’re such a good hearted person whose art and tags make me smile so I hope this does the same ♥♥♥
Rain lightly tapped against the window pane. The lights of the city danced against the pale walls as they flooded the apartment in an assortment of colors with each passing advertisement. Muffled sounds from the TV mixed with the voices of his neighbors on either side of him; a strong scent of green apple body wash filled his nostrils. Soul nestled in closer to the girl his arms were lazily draped around, her freshly wet hair mingling with his own. It was pleasant and serene. A perfect rendition of all the things he loved the most in his life.
These were the nights he lived for – craved them more than anything. The nights when Maka came back from a grueling day at work, took an hour long bath, and cuddled up with him to rest it off. Eventually their silence would disperse into casual conversation. She’d tell him about the drama her co-workers bickered about; he’d tell her about the song at the forefront of his mind but refused to spill out on paper. Their routine for these particular nights were repetitive sometimes, but they were familiar.
They gave him a sense of comfort. A reason to get up in the morning.
Hermann and Newt live in a world ruled by words. True
love is found through a shared “Core Lingua” or Core language that only
two people can share and fully understand. But things prove difficult if
one of them has made a Vow to give up speaking until the war is finally
An original soulmate AU based on language.
I started this a long time ago with the simple idea that I was going to
write a sister fic to Phosphor and in the process try to create an
original soulmate AU that no one else had done before.
i didn’t know that the eggplant emoji was supposed to be a phallic symbol and eggplant is one of my favorite foods so one time my friend asked me “what do you want for dinner tonight” and i texted back the eggplant emoji and stuff got weird
A long time ago, I made a post that everyone should imagine Tabi doing pushups with Haylen laying on top of her (I don’t even know where it is now) but now, thanks to this lovely art from @domirine, imagine no more!