Look, I made a carrd!

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Keni

JVL
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Three Goblin Art

Product Placement
art blog(derogatory)
noise dept.
styofa doing anything
trying on a metaphor

@theartofmadeline
todays bird

tannertan36

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Cosmic Funnies

Kiana Khansmith
Misplaced Lens Cap
Show & Tell

★
Stranger Things

seen from Italy
seen from United States

seen from Argentina
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Türkiye

seen from Canada

seen from Canada
seen from Austria
seen from Germany

seen from Singapore

seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@chaotic-carnifex
Look, I made a carrd!
Happy Pride!! Dealers choice ✨️
a continuation of 1
Sasuke wakes up with his arm around a slim waist and face first in some very nice cleavage. This has happened often enough that he doesn’t so much as pause, nuzzling closer, perhaps licking a little bit, but he keeps his teeth to himself. Mostly.
There’s a hard flick to the top of his head and he looks up enough to see annoyed blue eyes glaring down at him. The hair’s still red, but at least the contacts are gone. “Pervert.”
“You started it,” he murmurs, rolling Naruto onto her back so he can pin her wrists to the bed. She clenches her hands into fists before relaxing, not even offering a token resistance.
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” she grumbles and Sasuke kisses her before she can continue complaining.
Then it’s down her neck, her sternum, and he drags her hands down with him rather than letting her go. He licks across the seal on her stomach, the sensation leaving his tongue feeling scraped raw like sour candy. She makes use of the chakra often enough that it’s almost always lingering and warm to the touch these days. The first time he did this, it tasted the same as all the skin around it.
She huffs, spreading her legs impatiently. “You going to do something useful or should I leave the two of you alone?”
He rolls his eyes and dives in with expert ease. The real reason he keeps her hands pinned is she’ll rip out chunks of his hair if he doesn’t.
After, they’re both sated and really need to brush their teeth, but he can’t really summon the energy to move with Naruto laid out across his chest. He absently runs a hand through her hair, trying not feel too disappointed when she sighs and says, “I should meet back up with the others.”
“They didn’t miss you yesterday?” he asks.
She shakes her head. “Nah, that was strategic. The delegation met with the hokage yesterday. Putting him face to face with me and Mom is pushing it.”
“She’s part of the delegation?” he demands then frowns. “I didn’t see her in the streets yesterday.”
Not every foreign shinobi entering the village is part of their village’s official delegation, which is why he hadn’t thought much of leaving with Naruto, even considering how he was dressed. Brining Kushina here is risky enough. Making her part of the delegation is so ballsy it’s just stupid.
“Oh, you saw her,” she says, amusement crinkling her eyes at the corners. Before he can do more than frown, she pushes herself up to kiss him again. Just when it’s getting interesting, she pulls away and walks to the bathroom.
He watches her go, always a nice view, and then gets up to follow her. If they shower together, it’ll conserve water. Maybe.
~
Itachi, for the sake of his sanity, does not led credence to any rumors he hears about his little brother.
But this one came straight from Hinata. His fiancé isn’t one to exaggerate or engage in practical jokes. He hadn’t thought his brother liked anyone, so a passing dalliance with a foreign ninja should be more of a relief than anything else, but from the way Hinata had described it, it’s not something so innocent as that. Especially considering Sasuke’s teammates’ comments. He wishes he could gather more information on his own, but it’s unlikely he’d be successful. Sakura fought hard to gain his brother’s trust and is likely to respond to any questions about him by drop kicking him through a wall. Hanabi likes him mostly for marrying her sister and getting her out of the way of the line of succession, but if she scents any weakness then she’ll hold it over his head rather than telling him anything useful.
In this instance, it’s best to go straight to the source.
He swings in through his brother’s bedroom window is greeted by a kunai to the face.
Itachi deflects it easily, launching an attack of his own against this stranger in Sasuke’s home. It’s only after they’ve exchanged a half dozen hits that logic catches up with his surprise and he realizes the red haired, green eyed ninja with half his face covered and in nondescript black clothes is likely the subject of his visit.
He’s never met Uzumaki Naruto before, but of course he’s heard of him. Very few people haven’t. Three times Iwa has attempted to raze Uzu to the ground. The first failed, barely, and Uzu closed its borders. Not even other civilians from Whirlpool are allowed inside without an escort. The second attempt was six years ago and they say the walls of Uzu were painted red with Iwa blood. That’s when people first started whispering about Uzumaki Naruto.
The third attempt was last year and what launched him into an S-class nin in the Bingo Book. Iwa hadn’t even made it into Whirlpool. They’ve apparently learned their lesson, now giving Naruto a flee on sight order, the same as they have for the Yondaime.
“Don’t break anything,” Sasuke says crankily from the doorway. He’s shirtless and holding two cups of coffee.
Naruto breaks away from their stalemate, ducking beneath Itachi’s frozen arm and going over to Sasuke. “Relax, we’re just saying hello. Right, Itachi?” He narrows his eyes and doesn’t answer, finally falling back into a more relaxed position. Naruto is facing Sasuke and so has his back to him when he takes one of the cups and pulls down his mask. He chugs the whole thing quicker than is advisable considering the steam he can see rising from Sasuke’s cup. He hands Sasuke the cup back and curves his hand around the back of his brother’s neck. He pulls him in for a quick kiss before tugging his mask back up. “See you later.”
“Bye,” Sasuke returns. He waits until he hears front door open and close before asking, “Can I help you with something, aniki?”
He glares. “What are you doing?”
Sasuke raises an eyebrow and sips at his coffee. “Care to be a little more specific?”
He doesn’t wait for a reply, instead turning and going back to the kitchen. He puts Naruto’s mug in the sink and then turns to lean against the counter. Itachi wishes Sasuke was still small enough to beat up without causing significant property damage. “Getting involved with someone from Uzu, especially him–”
“We’re allies,” he interrupts, irritated. “What’s the big deal? They stole one scroll twenty years ago, it’s not like anyone died.”
“They closed off their village,” he starts.
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, because it was nearly destroyed? None of their allies, including us, got there in time to help them.”
“They’re secretive, even for a ninja village,” he insists. “It can’t be for anything good. Who knows what they’re up to, coming here for the chunin exams? They haven’t come for a Konoha chunin exam in over two decades. They’re not here for no reason.”
“You think they’re moving against Konoha?” Sasuke asks, the laughter in his voice absolutely infuriating.
The hokage does, but Itachi isn’t cleared to tell Sasuke that. Especially now. “You don’t? Why? Because Naruto told you they weren’t?”
“Watch it,” he says coldly, all trace of laughter gone.
If the Yondaime could fall for a honeypot then clearly it can happen to anyone, but he’d have sworn his little brother was safe from such tricks. “His name probably isn’t even Uzumaki. Almost all Uzu ninja use it.”
“I know his name,” Sasuke says, sliding back to exasperated.
“You think you do,” he says. “You have no idea what he’s called inside the walls of Uzu.”
Sasuke’s expression doesn’t change at all. There’s not a single tell or twitch.
Itachi feels his stomach drop. “You snuck into Uzu? Do you have any idea what would have happened–”
“I didn’t sneak,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “Will you just drop this?”
If he didn’t sneak, he was escorted in. But that’s not possible. No foreign ninja are allowed in Uzu. No matter how important, no matter their rank, those gates don’t open for anyone but their own.
His brother wouldn’t defect. It’s not even possible to defect to an ally village. But the hokage has been suspicious about Uzu’s true feelings for a long time.
“Don’t,” Sasuke warns, because of course he knows exactly what he’s thinking. “It was extenuating circumstances.”
“What could those possibly be?” he demands. “You’re not making any sense, otouto. Give me something to work with here.”
He shifts his weight and Itachi feels real alarm start to build in his chest. He licks his lips then asks, “You remember that whole Orochimaru thing?”
His whole body goes cold. “Do I remember when Orochimaru snatched you away as a genin on your first mission out of the village and we all thought you were dead and that he’d carved your eyes out of your head? Yes, Sasuke, I haven’t forgotten.”
He still has nightmares about those long weeks when he thought everything was lost.
Sasuke at least winces. “Yeah. Well, he didn’t carve my eyes out, but I didn’t exactly get away unscathed either.” Itachi straightens, because Sasuke had been fine when Hiashi had found him, tired and sunburned but alive and whole with two untouched eyes. “He bit me. He gave me the curse seal.”
He rakes his eyes over his brother, as if a curse seal is something he wouldn’t have noticed in the nearly seven years since, as if he isn’t standing shirtless and with no seal to show for it right now. He barely keeps himself form activating his sharingan. He’d looked over Sasuke himself when they got him back and so had their parents there was no curse seal. “You must be mistaken. Once applied, it can’t be removed, only suppressed.”
“Well, that’s true in Konoha, at least,” he agrees and then shrugs. “Uzu’s earned their reputation with sealing fair and square.” He bites the inside of his cheek. “Don’t spread this around, okay? If people find out Orochimaru put his curse seal on me, they’ll think I still have it, and if they find out Uzu made an exception to save me, it’ll make things harder for them. I kept quiet about it this long for good reasons, aniki.”
It doesn’t seem possible, but Sasuke wouldn’t lie to him. Not about this. He nods, hesitates, then asks, “Who brought you past the gates?”
Sasuke smiles, his eyes going soft. “Who do you think?”
Right. Of course.
~
Naruto heads to the inn, following a familiar chakra signature and knocking once before stepping inside. “How’d it go?”
“How’s Sasuke?” Kushina asks absently, not looking up from her scroll.
He grins, going over to her bend and bouncing down on top of it with his hands behind his head. “Great. Awesome. Fantastic.”
That gets him an amused glance. “Should I have even bothered getting you a room?”
“I’ll use it!” he protests. Probably.
She shakes her head, but says, “We’ve confirmed the Suna delegation is approaching.”
He perks up. “Temari or Kankuro?”
“All three.”
Naruto pushes himself upright, incredulous. “You’re joking! That asshole hasn’t answered a single missive for months, but he just rolls up to Konoha like it’s nothing?”
“Something’s wrong,” she continues and he frowns. “According to our scout, his chakra’s all over the place and not in the usual ways.”
Normally he’d dismiss that kind of assessment, but everyone they brought with him is more than familiar with him, and, before that, his mother. If anyone knows, they do.
He’d expected the kazekage to have locked Gaara in the basement or something. This sounds like it might be worse. But this is, among several any other reasons, why both he and his mom are here on this mission. Just in case.
More important than their status as demon container and former demon container is their status as Uzumaki and the clan techniques they’re better at than anyone else.
“I’m going to see for myself,” he announces.
She hums, focusing once more on her scroll. “Don’t get caught.”
He waves a hand in acknowledgement and then jumps out the window.
Happy Pride! Anything studio ghibli?
a continuation of 1 2 3
Sophie wakes slowly, her shoulder and hip aching from a night spent on the floor, but the fire is still going strong and the pleasant warmth is at least one thing nice about Howl's castle. The hat shop could be so drafty sometimes, but she doesn't think she'll have to worry about the chill here.
She sighs, feeling the pain of hunger low in her gut, and hopes her new husband has something to eat besides maidens' hearts. When she opens her eyes and starts to push herself up, she thinks she must still be dreaming.
Howl is sitting in a chair next to her. He's in slim black pants and a billowy white shirt. There are emeralds dangling from his ears and one around his neck and they glint charmingly in the firelight. He's not looking at her, instead entirely focused on her veil, which he's holding in his hands. "Where did you get this?"
She startles, finishing pushing herself to kneeling. His voice doesn't sound like it did yesterday, angry and mean. "I made it."
His hands tighten around the fabric, crinkling the delicate flowers she'd stitched into it. Her stepmother had wanted something more elegant, but instead Sophie had stitched the little blooms in shades of pink and blue and yellow. As resentful and upset as she'd felt as she'd done it, it had been her one attempt at optimism.
She's always liked flowers.
"And was it in your possession the entire time?"
Her eyebrows push together. "No. I kept it at the shop."
"Right," he says, some of that bitterness from before entering his voice. "Of course there's another player in this mess. As if it's not complicated enough already."
Sophie runs his words through her head once then twice, but she can't make any sense of them.
"Calcifer," Howl says. The face in the fire turns towards him and opens it's mouth wide.
He throws her veil into it.
The roar of flames hides the gasp she can't quite stop from escaping.
Calcifer booms in size, so tall that she worries about the ceiling catching fire. He turns blue, then white, features stretched into something demonic and terrifying.
Even Howl seems taken aback, eyes wide as he stands so suddenly that his chair clatters backwards. He steps between Sophie and the flames. She can't decide if that makes up for him burning her veil.
Calcifer abruptly returns to his previous size, back to a cheerful orange, but hints of blue and white still flicker at the edges. "Wowza! Now that's something!"
Howl shifts on his feet. "Was it-"
The fire shakes his head. "Brand new. I'd remember power like that."
"Wonderful," he sighs. He looks down at her and Sophie wonders at the picture she makes, still kneeling in the plain little wedding dress she'd slept in, hair a mess and eyes wide. Whatever it is causes his face to tighten and he turns back to the fire. "Keep an eye on her."
Then he's turning away and a strange noise echoes through the house before he leaves through the front door.
Calcifer leans over the edge of the fireplace, close enough that her face gets hot with it but not so close as to burn her. "You okay there? You're not looking so good."
She's not okay and the reasons are so numerous that she doesn't dare voice them, because if she starts then she might not stop. But eventually she swallows and says, "I'm hungry."
He frowns. "There's a door that leads to the markets."
Whatever that means. "I don't have any money."
The hat shop was to be her inheritance and she lived at home and the maid did all the grocery shopping, so the fact that she didn't really get paid for her work had never seemed worth causing a fuss about. But it meant she'd never had more than pocket change and right now she doesn't have even that. She hadn't thought she'd be dragged away so suddenly. All of her things are back at the hat shop.
All she has is the dress she's wearing and the veil Howl had burned.
"There should be some in the top left drawer behind the table," he says, something that might almost be sympathy in his voice.
She's so hungry, but she still hesitates.
Calcifer gets it, his mouth pulling back into a grin. "He won't mind. You're his wife, after all. What's your is his and what's his is yours, right?"
Right.
Happy Pride! More Living Blood please
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35
Rumor and gossip rips through the Hades's realm, words whispered across every dark corner, words that have been spread once before.
Queen Persephone has left the underworld.
At first, Thanatos does not believe them. But Hades rages, the tale spreads, and he cannot find her in any of the three levels of Hades. It makes his stomach sink. There is precedent for Persephone leaving her husband, of course, but not her son. Not knowingly.
He slips into the Prince's Court, but knows as soon as he's there that it contains neither Zagreus nor his mother.
It's the surface next, because if she left she must have told Zagreus. She wouldn't leave him behind again, not when as far as she knows he can't follow her without suffocating on his own blood. Foolish and selfish he has privately thought their queen to be at times, but not cruel.
Finding the warm pulse of Zagreus's power among the mortals is easy now. He has to only feel for the steady thump of life brighter than any other god could produce. Like a heart pumping blood, Zagreus's power brings life to all those who sacrifice to him, who pray to him, protecting them from the might of Demeter's rage.
To find himself in the grandest of Zagreus's temples is no surprise, nor is at all odd to find him eating and laughing with his first priestess.
The roar and bang of what sounds like a war outside is, however, new.
"Zagreus?" he says uncertainly.
He brightens, giving a little wave. "Than! What's up?" A pause while he takes in the incredulous expression that Thanatos can feel on his face. "Mom and Grandma are fighting, don't worry about it."
He feels a headache building behind his eyes.
Happy birthday! I adore anything Percy Jackson 😍
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
Hermes’s cabin is overflowing and Percy is fourteen years old and exhausted and reckless. He’d been tagging along with Annabeth to show the new kid around, but this is too much.
“This is stupid,” he says, looking at the eldest Hermes’s kid try to push sleeping bags nearly on top of one another to make room for one more.
“Percy, be quiet,” Annabeth hisses, but he doesn’t listen.
Instead he claps his hands and gets everyone’s attention. “Hey! Unclaimed kids. Come with me.”
“You can’t just stick us all in Poseidon’s cabin,” one of them pipes up. “It’ll make him mad.”
“Who said anything about putting you in my dad’s cabin?” he asks. “Stop asking questions and follow me, unless you want to spend another night on the floor.”
They all trade curious glances, but everyone follows him, even the Hermes kids. Annabeth scoffs and crosses her arms, but doesn’t protest. They gather more curious glances and then more of a crowd, kids tossing down their swords and abandoning their translation work to join the crowd, knowing the beginning of something interesting when they see it.
But he walks right past his own cabin and walks straight to the second largest cabin in the circle.
“Percy!” Annabeth shouts, reaching forward to grab him. “You can’t, have you gone mad?”
“Probably,” he answers absently, stopping in front of the cabin.
The cabins in the camp are representations of the thrones on Olympus. It would be a very foolish thing to disrespect a cabin, since it’s disrespecting the god who it belongs to.
“Hera,” he says, and everyone instantly quiets. “Hera of the Heights, of Argos, of the Mound. Hera the cow eyed, white armed goddess of marriage and of family.”
Annabeth almost looks impressed underneath her fear. Thunder rumbles in the distance and the perfectly sunny day is suddenly overcast.
It seems he has his mother’s attention.
“You are the mother goddess, the goddess of family,” he says. “There are lost children here. They are without their mother, without their family, and far from home. Won’t you shelter them?”
Nothing.
He takes a deep breath and steps forward, ignoring how several campers lunge to stop him.
He presses his hands against the front of the door. Several people gasp, but nothing happens to him, of course. This is his mother’s cabin. It won’t shock him or hurt him or reject him. But no one else knows that.
Mother, he thinks. You can’t claim me. I understand that. But you can protect them.
There’s another, much louder crack of thunder.
Then the door swings open as the sun peaks through the clouds.
“Unclaimed,” Percy says as he gestures to the open door, hating the word but lacking another, “welcome to your new home. Cabin Two.”
When Chiron hears what’s happened, he blinks several times and his face becomes unreadable. Percy tells himself it means nothing. He tells himself that it’s impossible for anyone to guess he’s Hera’s son from this, otherwise his mother wouldn’t have done it.
When Mr. D hears about it, he chokes on his diet coke, and that’s pretty satisfying all on its own.
Trick or treat! Could I get more Percy as a god? If not, author's pick! 🎃
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
“So, Mom,” Percy asks after that first summer, “did you and my dad ever actually, er, date?”
“Oh, heavens no,” Sally assures him, “me and your mother did. She’s a wonderful dancer.”
The fun thing with finnish is that the most common way of saying "this is none of your business" can also be interpreted as "this is not within the reach of your hearing", as in 'you are too far away from this to hear anything', so if someone's airing out their dirty laundry LOUDLY while also being IN PUBLIC, if you butt in to the conversation and they tell you to mind your own business, you can be pedantic and go "actually I can hear y'all just fine. If it's none of my business then lower your damn voices."
you know when you get Autism Mad. like something happens in a non-ideal way and in your brain you know it literally doesnt matter but in your other more autistic brain youre like screaming & scrying & shitting the bed etc. i think you should be able to go into settings and opt out of that. i have better things to get upset about than failing to put up a decoration on the optimal day or being too stubborn to solve a problem via simple communication
i am of the sincere belief that if ur on ur computer a lot you should visually customize it to high hell and back not just for funsies but also because it has literally made me less depressed before. its kind of like how rearranging your bedroom is good for your brain, yknow. i do stuff like this every few months
and if anyone wants to follow suit
LIVE WALLPAPER: wallpaper engine. only thing on here that costs any money (its like 5 bucks on steam). im sure theres free alternatives but this one has a lot of presets and stuff so its less hassle and its what i use. might be a bad idea for lower end pcs tho
CUSTOM TASKBAR: retrobar on github (lots of different options)
CUSTOM CURSOR: theres a lot of places to find these, but rw-designer open cursor library is a good place to start
DISCORD: betterdiscord, im using the clearvision v7 theme with a custom background
EXTENSIONS (these are for firefox, might or might not exist on other browsers):
tabliss for the new tab theme
stylus for tumblr -> specifically the 'tumblr - custom dashboard pallette' theme for colors + bg, and this for the pre-twitterifcation layout
enhancer for youtube for custom youtube colors
the browser theme is just one i found on the firefox theme 'store'
This was shared as a "bad" joke but I was so charmed by it I've been thinking about it for days.
Moose at the next table: No they don't. I've been waiting here for an hour.
There is absolutely a platonic explanation for that
But I will also entertain the non platonic for my own edification do u understand
it's just really apparent that people think it's okay to want pain but morally abhorrent to want to give it. sorry but the sadist gets to have fun too. it's actually pretty crucial to the process.
if I said I was going to a taekwondo class would you feel the need to tell me kicking people on the street is bad or.
Image ID: A screenshot of a tumblr comment that says "yeah, its only abhorrent imo, when the recipient is non consenting, i've" the screenshot cuts off.
🚬🐊
You come to me, on this day, this day of all days, on the day when I'm busy, and make me drop everything to draw a shitpost. Okay, fine.
ITEM: Portable cancer - prohibitively large.
Really glad predictive text exists. Should i bring my own parking lot