I'm obsessed with this gif like jesus christ Frank really does just get EVERYTHING for himself.

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@callunawrites
I'm obsessed with this gif like jesus christ Frank really does just get EVERYTHING for himself.
situation dire. i've been saying 'huzzah', 'alas', and 'tis unironically for like a year now. harmless so far.
however. i hath noticed i now mark half of my goodbyes with 'i must away'. it's spreading
Dear Lord please not this post. I promise I'm cooler than this
repeat the cycle.
today i overheard a girl say "no, f*ck that. i will be lovely to everyone. maybe some people will remember they have a heart."
boom
"who fucking cares theyre gonna die anyway" gerard is getting sooooo sick of this time loop and making it everyones problem. i love them
Hmm
Superman & Batman scene redraw
I have been slowly building a weird pocket universe where Lex and the Joker become best pals. Their friendship leads to all sorts of dumb things, not the least of which is Lex and Clark having involuntary ringside seats to the Bruce Wayne Being a Dipshit show.
I am dead serious that I think Bruce works best as a character when he is the most dysfunctional motherfucker in the room. Lex builds doomsday devices, the Joker blows stuff up and steals things, and yet they are both miles and miles more stable than this man and his ever-growing collection of abandoned kids.
Anyway, Bruce, please go home to your house. Your actual house, for once. Not the Batcave. God almighty.
Hey, so I haven’t written anything since December and it’s starting to fuck with my head. Anyone want to take pity on me and throw me some prompts so I can wade back into the waters?
I’d love to write some Superman content, but am also fully down to write for anything I’ve yelled about before. Stranger Things, Kingdom Hearts, The Untamed, Zelda, Arcane, Dragon Age, Wolf359, PJO, heck throw me a Teen Wolf prompt for old times sake.
I’ve got a ten hour road trip tomorrow and will be the passenger princess so VERY interested in not being bored the whole time.
Thanks everybody for the prompts! I had every intention of writing on the trip itself but got carsick the second we hit West Virginia. I’ll see how I’m feeling when we hit a non-curvy road state, but til then ideas are percolating!
If you haven’t sent in a prompt but are still inclined toss something my way!
add yours!
I think this picture of my gf helping fix my car should be in the MoMa
Hey, so I haven’t written anything since December and it’s starting to fuck with my head. Anyone want to take pity on me and throw me some prompts so I can wade back into the waters?
I’d love to write some Superman content, but am also fully down to write for anything I’ve yelled about before. Stranger Things, Kingdom Hearts, The Untamed, Zelda, Arcane, Dragon Age, Wolf359, PJO, heck throw me a Teen Wolf prompt for old times sake.
I’ve got a ten hour road trip tomorrow and will be the passenger princess so VERY interested in not being bored the whole time.
Chapter 3 is up!
.
Eddie wakes up already in a bad mood. He’s got a raging headache that’s pulsing directly above his left eyeball and someone next door is singing Madonna loud enough to wake the dead. He groans, rolling over and burying his head under a wayward pillow in a desperate bid to muffle the absolute monster next door. Instead, the blender kicks on and somehow — somehow — the singing manages to get even louder.
Fuck, he’s not going to be able to go back to sleep, is he? And it’s— yep, right on schedule, six am on the dot.
He stays like that through the first, second, and third verses of Like a Virgin, gnashing his teeth under the blankets until they ache. When the blender cuts off, he thinks that he might get lucky enough to get a reprieve, but instead, the playlist shifts to Whitney Houston and he completely gives up on going back to sleep.
Eddie feels like he’s moving through molasses as he stumbles his way into the kitchen, making immediately for the bottle of Advil sitting on the counter and downing two with water straight from the tap. He presses his aching forehead to the cool metal faucet, willing his skull to stop throbbing in time to the beat of I Wanna Dance With Somebody.
It doesn’t work.
He reaches for the tub of shitty grocery brand coffee and rustles up a clean spoon to scoop out the grounds, only—
Scraaaaape.
Eddie frowns, peering down into the tub in disbelief.
It’s empty.
Completely and utterly empty, with only the barest remnants of grounds clinging to the sides of the container.
Eddie shuts his eyes.
As if mocking him, he hears Steve’s voice, as if from afar, asking so very sweetly, “Dontcha wanna dance?”
“No, I don’t want to fucking dance,” Eddie mutters, flinging the spoon back into the sink. It backfires when the clatter of metal on metal causes another spike of pain to shoot through his head.