what a nightmare to color

The power of psychology will bring a breath of fresh air to the legal system.

This took forever  (ʘ‿ʘ✿)

But it was worth it! She’s finished and ready to shine in the spotlight!

Hope you like it.

Knock, Knock Ch. 23: F is for Fire

Didn’t leave you hanging too long, I hope. Please keep in mind I have zero firefighting experience. And, hey, let me know what you think? Hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3.

Start from the beginning on Tumblr.

When they smelled the smoke they should have just run. They should have put on something other than their pajamas, maybe, but beyond that they should have done nothing but snatch up their phones and wallets and head for the fucking hills. They should have just reacted like any normal, scared human would.

But no. They weren’t normal. They didn’t just run away from bad stuff. They ran toward it; they tried to stop it. They were helpers.

Emma loved that about herself, and about Belle. It’s why they became friends in the first place. They were the ride or die kind.

And it appeared they were choosing die today.

Leave it to her to be cracking jokes in her head before she burns to death.

(Hey, she gets bitter when her attempts at helping don’t do a damn thing.)

“Belle! Belle, are you here?”

To be fair, when Emma and Belle had run toward the source of the smoke rather than away, they really weren’t thinking it was going to be life-threatening decision. Kind of like how she figured closet sex in an airport wouldn’t get her on the terror watch list or how she thought becoming friends with her loud next door neighbor couldn’t possibly irrevocably change her life. Oh, how the universe loved to prove her wrong.

The smoke was now so heavy that Emma couldn’t see her fingertips as they slid along the soon-to-melt retro-ass commercial carpet, her attempts to crawl down the hallway not seeming to get her anywhere close to fresh air.  

“Emma!” Belle choked out, somewhere to her left. “Stay low!”

No, Belle, I was planning on going up there where all the heavy smoke and death was.

Fuck, she needed to chill with the snark and focus on surviving.

Keep reading

RABBIT APPLICATION BULLSHIT

ALOHA, RABBITS. SINCE I’M BORED AS SHIT, WHY NOT DO ANOTHER ONE OF THESE THINGS! I’VE BEEN WORKING WITH A FEW… FRIENDS. THEY’RE NICE, DON’T WORRY…
WELL, ONE OF THEM’S NICE.
…KINDA.

NAME:
AGE:
GENDER/PRONOUNS:
EARLIEST NIGHTMARE:
SHOE SIZE:
HAIR COLOR:
WORST FEAR:
WHAT YOU CHERISH THE MOST:
WHAT YOU HATE THE MOST:
DISCORD ACCOUNT:

HAVE FUN.

I’m not sure whether it’s having looked at way too many invite samples or just the nonsense of the industry but I’m starting to realize I know colors very differently than these companies do… Since when do we call a flat out purple hue “Deep Azure“? That’s an alternate fact right there, imagine if we all started calling these things however we wanted: “No, officer, I didn’t run a red light, it was fire truck green!”

The hairdresser would be a nightmare. “What do you mean this isn’t the color you wanted? Look at that gorgeous Flamingo Blonde, picture perfect!“