#mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

[thatghostinyourbog]

MADDISON BY @spccts

EHEH

EHEH

GREMLIN BLORBOS

[sherlockknolmes]

Ok so I wrote a lot of shitty poetry last summer but i do kinda still feel some positive feelings for this one, so if you would like you can read it. Fair warning, it makes no sense

Before it Even Began:

Off to battle, my soldier!

The sergeant calls to me,

But the war is already lost

I gave up in my dreams

Carry on, my soldier!

The sergeant calls to me,

But in my mind I’ve already dropped

Like rain into the sea

You must fight, my soldier!

The sergeant calls to me,

But I am no soldier

For I just want to flee

[ashoss]

my best friend bonito flakes

[feeling-of-deja-vu]

She pressed the tip of her pistol against the Captains temple, singeing her skin with the heat of the barrel that had, only moments ago, sent hundreds of rounds tearing through Overwatch agents.

As per her mission, she was to eliminate Lacroix- and she would, but first...

"You left me there... you left me there, to die. I needed you, and NOBODY. CAME."

Her voice raised as tears began to well in her eyes. She swallowed, hard, and tried to regain her composure.

"Why?"

There was a pause as Amélie regained her senses. She'd just been sent crashing through her own desk, and was now lying pinned in a surprise attack by Operative Oxton.

As she got her bearings, she stared at the woman above her, managing only a confused "What...?"

Lena barred her teeth, frustrated, and asked again.

"I said. Why. Why?! Tell me! Tell me why I wasn't worth it! Tell me why nobody cared enough! TELL ME WHY IT WAS TOO HARD TO SAVE ME!"

She screamed her words as she raised her gun into the air, firing it wildly into the ceiling lights. She scrambled up off the floor, her breathing ragged. The only remaining light in the room now her chronal accelerator glowing a deep, burning red.

She turned back to the Captain, after wiping at her eyes, and leveled her aim.

"...Tell me why you abandoned me."

Lacroix rose slowly from where she'd been pinned, wounded badly in the previous firefight, but not so much she couldn't stand to face Lena.

"Lena... We did not abandon you, Cherie... We mourned you. When Professor Kuiper told us there was nothing to be done... It destroyed us all." Amélie attempted to stand straighter, but winced as she felt the muscles in her back scream in pain.

"We cared, Lena... We tried. We-"

"You failed." Lena finished.

Operative Oxton closed her eyes for a moment, and pressed a hand to her forehead, before they opened again with a laugh.

"You fucking failed! The great Overwatch! Couldn't even save one of their own. Well, you know what? Thats fine. Just fine. Because guess what? I made it back. I did it without you. I did it with a group that values me. What I can do. So I think, all things considered?" The uncertainty in her voice, present for the entire conversation to this point- vanished.

"You can mark the Slipstream program a success."

Her finger squeezed the trigger.

~~~~~~

"Guh! What?!-"

Lena awoke with a panic, her heart racing as she placed a hand to her chest.

She looked around, calming herself. She was In her room at Watchpoint Gibraltar.

She sighed, checked her phone, and huddled on her bed, hugging her own legs.

"Another nightmare..." she sighed, "Maybe I should talk to Angela..." Her eyes quickly glanced over at her chronal accelerator, which, for a split second- she could swear turned an unfamiliar, unsettling shade of red.

"...or maybe I should talk to Winston."

[eatsbooks]

Talk to me about the Lucien and Carmine reunion tour where they drink and fuck their way across Prythian

carmine who serves as the emissary between autumn and winter; lucien who serves as the emissary of spring; and the high lord of winter at the time who Hates beron and invites them both to a banquet without telling the other they'll be in attendance. carmine who doesn't quite harbor any remorse for what happened to jesminda—what did lucien expect to happen? he knows their father as any of them do. a foolish mistake, a careless mistake, and the known consequences—and has always been the most distant brother but who can't stand the thought of a family member outright hating him; lucien who will never forgive any of his brothers for their roles in jesminda's death but who is so, so desperate not to feel anything anymore.

they see each other at the banquet, and lucien draws a dagger, which is what the high lord of winter wants: a public vanserra embarrassment to spread far and mock beron with. but court games are carmine's domain! lucien's, too, were he not so activated by this, the first glimpse of his family he's had since he lost his love. since he was the reason he lost his love. these thoughts drown him, and carmine takes that opportunity to sweep forth and greet little lucien with a thinly veiled but sweetly weaponized stop being a fucking idiot, surely you're aware you're doing exactly what is expected of us. lucien, indeed aware of the optics and eager to do well for tamlin as emissary so that tamlin will not forsake him, sheaths his dagger (but is not so foolish as to not expect to use it again tonight) and lets himself be sat down by carmine. right beside carmine. who at once begins to ply him with drink until he can playact better. cue the mistrusting glare from lucien, the sharp smile from carmine, who sips of the wine before pressing it back into the palm of his little brother—who is at least not so lost in himself as to be stupid. after a time, carmine—not remorseful! not guilty! but feeling some queer discomfort in his chest when he looks too long at lucien—sets a female in his lap, then a second at his side, as an attendant might feed their lord grapes.

here, a peace offering. eat of them and tell me you don't feel better during.

after all, who better to know how to fill the gaping hole where love ought to be with bodily pleasure and indulgence than carmine? and he's right! lucien doesn't feel much of anything but good with this much alcohol in his system, with his mouth and his hands so occupied, with his eyes closed and all thought restricted to how he is being touched. then, as always, the morning comes, and the reality of his grief and his guilt and his loneliness sets in. carmine knows that, too, in a way—how insubstantial a feast of the body can truly be and how it can pain the stomach to be so hollow so quickly. (he'll never be able to call a spade a spade the way lucien can.) where has your lord bid you next? he asks his brother, whose eyes have become nothing but haunt. lucien begrudges telling him, but he does, eventually. carmine has always had such a way with getting what he wants of people. i'll accompany you, carmine says. it will look good for us to be seen together—for the other courts to know there is not such hostility between us as to be exploited. it isn't an apology. it isn't anything, really.

but lucien doesn't care once there's alcohol in his system and a fae in his bed—and that is enough for him to abide carmine's presence across the courts. he thought he was well-cultured, but this older brother of his knows places, knows people, knows things that he never cared to share with lucien before. an escape and, terribly, an opportunity to get to know this brother anew. it isn't an apology. it's hardly anything. but sometimes it feels like something. and sometimes carmine feels that way, too.

[starrjoy]

i love. robot <3

[perpetual-migranes]

literally what is this shit idk either

When the World's Frozen Over | Boops | Ellipsus

"I'll create a new one with you." Cam and Mama Simcoe in Heathers AU or smth man idk

[worldismine39]

i invite you over to my house. it’s a giant microwave with paint on it to look like a house. i insist that yes, this is my house. when i open the front door, like 90% of the front of the house opens. i tell you ill be right in, and shut the door. you watch through the giant window helplessly as i get on a ladder and start struggling with the buttons