The Difference Between Hikaru And Kaoru,

Has any mentioned the class a drugs Sherlock does? Because it’s so funny how many adaptions ignore his opioid habit from the original stories, meanwhile Sherlock and Co is all “yeah, he does the hardcore shit”

I love it

Heatwave 🥵  This years Hawkins summer is especially hot.

🔪🔪🔪 в вк не репостить🔪🔪🔪  

Pink Gauze & Glitter Glue

In season 2 I want them to reappear as kids.

I want them to get up and for Ben to be alive. I want Ben to be angry at everyone because of how they treated Klaus, and shrug off everyone's hugs and greetings. Smiling and nodding towards Vanya and Diego as Klaus is clinging onto him like hes his only lifeline (he might as well be).

I want Klaus to step back.

I want him to instinctively reach for dog tags that should be around his neck, a habit developed over 10 long months for whenever he felt anything remotely negative.

I want him to feel nothing and look down in panic as his siblings have a stare off in the background. Allison and Luther pushing Ben for answers on why hes so cold.

I want Ben to turn towards Klaus and I want to see the exact moment Ben realizes something is wrong.

I want Klaus to start hyperventilating as his world zeros in on the fact that they're in the past, that his clothes didn't transfer through time travel, that hes stuck in his old academy uniform and that he's missing Dave's dog tags.

Hes missing Dave's dog tags.

He's missing Dave's dog tags.

They're gone.

They didn’t transfer through time travel.

I want Klaus to realize. I want Ben to realize.

And then.

I want.

To see him...

break.

Klaus has gone through so much and I want him to sob, I want him to claw at his chest and release blood curdling screams of emotional agony as his last connection to Dave is severed.

I want Ben to pull him in his arms and hold him as Klaus shatters.

Klaus, already a pile of shards, already only held together by pink gauze and glitter glue.

And in that moment he changes.

As Ben screams at his siblings in righteous fury, finally cracking under their accusing stares. Every wrong they’ve ever committed towards Klaus spilling past his lips like a never ending stream of poison.

I want Klaus to go blank.

A blankness that Five is intimately aware of, one that is part of him still. A blankness that he never would wish on any of his siblings, one that he came back to prevent.

I want him to go blank. The blank of someone who has forgotten happiness. I want him to stand up and wipe his face, I want him to stare at his siblings, zeroing in on Luther, and turn.

I want a dark Klaus. One who suffers from extreme PTSD and anxiety. One who can stand in the middle of a battlefield and calmly load a revolver and shoot every person perfectly in the forehead. One who still makes dirty jokes (now twisted and macbre and no longer finny) and wears extravagant clothes (only in pitch black). One who still does his nails in neon colors and smudges his eyeliner everywhere (now only a routine force of habit and not because it brings happiness), but also one who is a shadow of his former self.

I want a Klaus who is broken, bruised, shattered, torn. I want a Klaus whose pieces have turned to shards. Whose gauze is now barbed wire and whose glitter glue is now acid.

I want a Klaus who has an obvious, terrifying, plastic smile. I want him to willingly torture, hurt, kill and maim. I want him cold, cynical, apathetic, harsh, downright cruel.

And then

I want him to get better. I want him to change, to learn to let go, to free himself. And in the very last season I want him to smile; a bright, sunny, happy thing; crack a very Klaus joke; don his feather boa; grab his pink rimmed umbrella; shimmy into his tight lace up pants, sheer crop top, black coat and 6 inch death wish heels; and I want him to stroll into the sunset dancing to music on his I pod and singing a happy little tune.

I want Allison to whisper, with tears in her eyes that that was his first real smile in years (hell maybe decades) as she shares a grin with her siblings.

Because recovery is part of the journey, and they deserve to be happy too.

No matter how twisted their family is.

the saiki k cast is all just so sad like seriously they have so many issues it isnt funny aiura has probably tried to warn people about their deaths so many times and it just doesnt work kusuke feels probably completely worthless when compared to his brother and moved away at 16 kusou has seen the absolute worst in humanity and probably feels like garbage because he didnt do anything teruhashi needs to get into therapy so bad it isnt funny nendou is hated just because of the way he looks even though hes one of the sweetest people out there aren has been beating people up since elementary and based on his nickname has killed someone and likely struggles with the guilt of that kaidou has a very overbearing mother thats trying to push him in a direction he doesnt want to go mera works like 5 separate jobs just to provide for her family saiko most likely doesnt know how to properly convey emotions since all he cared about til the show was money chiyo feels she has to have a boyfriend and when she does get one he fucking sucks akechi used to be beat up by bullies if hairo gets burn out hes just going to explode since all he does is help people and without that hed probably feel useless and toritsuka didnt know his grandparents were dead til he tried to hug them the entirety of this mangas cast needs therapy and if it wasnt for each other they probably couldnt cope (anyways im very normal about this show)

I saw the handprint through my streaming tears (i was sobbing my eyes out like a baby) and i cried so much harder. That handprint was the turning point for so much in the show. It was a turning point for Sam and Dean's relationship. It was a turning point for the forces and lore of the world. It was a turning point with Castiel showing up. It was the beginning of their relationship.... And it being there when Cas was sacrificing himself? Even if it wasn't burned into Deans skin? It hurt worse than if my heart was ripped out of my body and burned in front of me.

Ok, I’ll admit it: the hand print got me.

deviser is so fun like what if a guy (AI) really misunderstood frankenstein and just. just fucked up everything forever. fantastic, no notes, really into the fleshy sounds and all the gasping pained breaths.

“So you’re telling me you can’t die?” “No, I’m telling you I can’t stay dead. There’s a difference, Trust me.”

that's a horrifying sentence omg (it goes hard tho i love it)

I'm calling alkaline hydrolysis (water cremation) on this one.

No easy-to-locate bodies

Spare immersion heating cylinder

KOH (required) is a paint stripper, so would either already be on hand or raise no flags to purchase for a painter

Very wet paint

Over wallpaper: painting has a purpose other than redecorating

Victim's genetic material on the walls anyway, why would more be suspicious?

Paint would mask the smell (or incorporate it into what'd already be expected?)

Conclusion: dispose of the bodies by painting your house with them???

A Being of Grand Design

I wear a dress made of stars, galaxies swirling along the bodice, nebulae lining the fringe. i am made of every life ever lived and every soul that ever will be. 

My skin is covered in words. Every poem, every novel, every classic i’ve ever read. Words melding together and covering my skin in ink. 50 thousand fonts and letters melding together in a grotesque mockery of a tattoo. My favorites excerpts are printed in bloody red.

Every breath I breath in is made of stories. Novels, plays, movies, ballet, tv shows, opera, music, art. It fills my veins and fuels my body. Carrying thoughts and dreams as they make my muscles move.

My hair is thousands of memories strung together. Ever moment filled with emotion. Sadness drowns me as Rage burns bright. Love floats me to the highest clouds as happiness brings me down to earth where I can dig my toes in fresh soil.

Seas of tears fill my eyes. Every one I’ve ever shed and every one I haven’t. Just because something isn’t real doesn’t mean I can’t scream for it. Tear filled wails shake my body as I sob for lives never lived and souls reaped to soon. Dreams drown as I cry for every person alive and those already in the grave and those who will be and those only found within stories.

My heart pumps ink through my veins. Never replacing blood  but trying to take a humanity to whom it’s claim had always been staked. The ghostly hands of authors long dead and characters fated to be, caress my bones as I crawl to my grave of pages.

I start as a film reel replaces my brain. Love and Loss and Pain and Worship not mine control me like a marionette. Every emotion from this earth and beyond dig their claws into the inside of my skull as ideas framed as people recite lines lost to time.

I cut my arms open with a sharp shard of glass. I spill blood red as dusk as I don every bad thought, every bad day , every tragedy and heartbreak, every scream and fear fraught day my family has ever had. I soak them in my ink streaked blood and make every familial woe mine. I wear boots made of death and tights of betrayal. My shawl is of fear and my belt made of financial doubt. I wear a headband of hate and bangles of loss as prejudice is smeared around my lips like lipstick.

They ask me what it’s like to be a writer.

I say it’s like turning yourself into fates marionette as you become Frankenstein’s monster.

I love this so much!!!! Its so lovely!!!!

I made a new genderfluid flag bc the old one doesnt repersent all of us tbh or that well idk if i could get people to actually use it tho tbh but id love if they would

If you ever wanna use it dont worry about credit same if you make art with it im not worried about credit i just wanted to contribute to our community