212 plays

crashboombanger:

So I caved, here’s a Rung voice. I don’t really like it but hey they can’t all be winners haha

imaginescalemates:

adding unnecessary comments to posts more like

image

I forgot to draw Alan facial hair I am so ashamed of myself.

lickoutyourbrains:

Feeding ducks at the park is a fun family outing right?

Right??

kerrsplat:

killbenedictcumberbatch:

Twilight may be trash but at least they cast actual native americans to play natives

That is a serious burn for a LOT of movies.  I’m not sure we have enough burn cream for this.

The first draft is just you telling yourself the story.
Terry Pratchett (via fuckyeahcharacterdevelopment)

darkpanik:

Haven’t posted any comic covers for a while. So, here are A covers to Transformers Last Stand of the Wreckers. Drawn by Nick Roche and colored by Josh Burcham

Feeding ducks at the park is a fun family outing right?

Right??

potterblotter:

waterkangaroo:

nyan-nyan-pur:

desynchronization:

This is that part.

image

image

Oh thank god! I was worried. I didnt know what part I was at.

theshriekingsisterhood:

I’ve been meaning to post an unfiltered version of this goretober pic for a while so in honor of what is apparently Rung Gore Week

um if u go to the original u can enjoy my terrible fic stylings so

Hey friend ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ how about one of the DJD. Your choice c:

hallowavey:

more on: i spent way too much time working on this

in case tumblr messes it up: ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

lickoutyourbrains:

deepspaceangel I’ve been trying to come up with an idea for your “Family Outing” prompt and I am absolutely stumped.

How does one family outing???

Nevermind I thought of something.

Welcome to Aperture Laboratories.

deepspaceangel I’ve been trying to come up with an idea for your “Family Outing” prompt and I am absolutely stumped.

How does one family outing???

slogandstuff:

He was mostly ignored after the kidnapping. Not hurt or terrorized, not starved. Just kept in his room, and it was a room, not a cell. It was just a room that he could not leave. Trepan was quite sure the door wouldn’t open for him, and frankly, had been too afraid to try.
Overlord. He’d seen his apprentice shot, benignly grinning terror bearing down on them, and woken up here. Where ever here was. From the sounds around him, he’d assumed a ship. He’d nearly had a conniption the first time his captor has brought him a cube, but the phase sixer had simply chuckled and left him alone. Trepan had no idea how much time had passed.
Someone had messed with his chronometer. Repaired any other damage, but taken time from him.
He was lonely. And he’d be bored too, if he wasn’t so afraid.
Fuel kept coming from Overlord, but no cruelty. Not even words. The wait was starting to kill Trepan a little. He had not been cherry picked from Soundwave’s rescue for no reason- he’d been selected. He didn’t know why. He was afraid of why, and the longer nothing happened, the more anxious Trepan became, see-sawing between wanting it over with, and never wanting it to start.
One day, something different happened. Overlord came in before the mnemosurgeon needed to refuel, and gently ushered Trepan out the door for the first time. He shook. Overlord smiled.
Oh god.
Oh god. He was sorry. Everything he’d ever done, he was sorry. He’d do better, he’d be better, just please, oh please-
Far too soon, they arrived in a room. A room with a table. A table with straps on it. And cupboards. There was a window. They were above a city, but he couldn’t focus on where. Trepan wanted to look out the window. He did not want to look at the table. He did not want to think about the cupboards.
Overlord sat himself comfortably in a chair, pulling Trepan up after him to sit stradled on his lap. The doctor resisted, but it was like pulling against a metrotitan. A hand on his back pressed him flush to the giant, fingers petting his back soothingly.
Massive digits took one of his hands. “Show me your tools, little doctor.” His hand was lightly squeezed. Trepan freed his needles, afraid of what could be done to his hands, his life, if he did not comply. A thumb pressed down on his palm, spreading his fingers. Examining.
Trepan cowered, flinching away but pushed back against Overlord as he felt his arm lifted. He cowered, not wanting to watch, but terrified to look away. To not know.
Plush lips kissed his knuckles, and stayed against them, pursing. Considering. Face still pressed to Trepan’s hand, Overlord grinned.
"Oh little doctor, little doctor. Are you ready?"
Trepan shivered. “I’m sorry, I don’t- I don’t- please don’t please-“
"You’re going to teach me such marvelous tricks. Shh now, don’t shake, doctor. I did not go to the trouble of capturing you, fueling you, just to damage such a valuable tool. You are going to help me, doctor. You know things that I would like to know, you see? Be useful, and you have nothing to be afraid of."
"You’re going to be such a useful little doctor. Very useful indeed."

slogandstuff:

He was mostly ignored after the kidnapping. Not hurt or terrorized, not starved. Just kept in his room, and it was a room, not a cell. It was just a room that he could not leave. Trepan was quite sure the door wouldn’t open for him, and frankly, had been too afraid to try.

Overlord. He’d seen his apprentice shot, benignly grinning terror bearing down on them, and woken up here. Where ever here was. From the sounds around him, he’d assumed a ship. He’d nearly had a conniption the first time his captor has brought him a cube, but the phase sixer had simply chuckled and left him alone. Trepan had no idea how much time had passed.

Someone had messed with his chronometer. Repaired any other damage, but taken time from him.

He was lonely. And he’d be bored too, if he wasn’t so afraid.

Fuel kept coming from Overlord, but no cruelty. Not even words. The wait was starting to kill Trepan a little. He had not been cherry picked from Soundwave’s rescue for no reason- he’d been selected. He didn’t know why. He was afraid of why, and the longer nothing happened, the more anxious Trepan became, see-sawing between wanting it over with, and never wanting it to start.

One day, something different happened. Overlord came in before the mnemosurgeon needed to refuel, and gently ushered Trepan out the door for the first time. He shook. Overlord smiled.

Oh god.

Oh god. He was sorry. Everything he’d ever done, he was sorry. He’d do better, he’d be better, just please, oh please-

Far too soon, they arrived in a room. A room with a table. A table with straps on it. And cupboards. There was a window. They were above a city, but he couldn’t focus on where. Trepan wanted to look out the window. He did not want to look at the table. He did not want to think about the cupboards.

Overlord sat himself comfortably in a chair, pulling Trepan up after him to sit stradled on his lap. The doctor resisted, but it was like pulling against a metrotitan. A hand on his back pressed him flush to the giant, fingers petting his back soothingly.

Massive digits took one of his hands. “Show me your tools, little doctor.” His hand was lightly squeezed. Trepan freed his needles, afraid of what could be done to his hands, his life, if he did not comply. A thumb pressed down on his palm, spreading his fingers. Examining.

Trepan cowered, flinching away but pushed back against Overlord as he felt his arm lifted. He cowered, not wanting to watch, but terrified to look away. To not know.

Plush lips kissed his knuckles, and stayed against them, pursing. Considering. Face still pressed to Trepan’s hand, Overlord grinned.

"Oh little doctor, little doctor. Are you ready?"

Trepan shivered. “I’m sorry, I don’t- I don’t- please don’t please-“

"You’re going to teach me such marvelous tricks. Shh now, don’t shake, doctor. I did not go to the trouble of capturing you, fueling you, just to damage such a valuable tool. You are going to help me, doctor. You know things that I would like to know, you see? Be useful, and you have nothing to be afraid of."

"You’re going to be such a useful little doctor. Very useful indeed."