#Chapter: [Present]

[nekoo3001]

Heavy topic.

They look so exhausted in the last chapters

[crowatyourwindow]

Kenji and his cow Hanako II were the best duo from wan change my mind

[aingeal98]

The way Orv will dangle the basic premise in front of you like a set of keys and have you going "Ha! So Joonghyuk is the novel's protagonist but Dokja is OUR main character." and you're so busy enjoying that layer of meta text that you don't notice their other hand winding up the Han Sooyoung hammer to whack you with.

[egophiliac]

Most unhinged moment in TWST Wonderland that made you go:

I love this game.

can I just say the entire front half of episode 7 chapter 8, because everything about it was BONKERS in the most absolutely delightful way. genuinely this might have been the funniest single update yet. we got Idia's directorial debut! big stronk Epel! and. just. gestures to the entirety of SavanaRook. (then Vil went into a spiral of murdering people that culminated in punching the manifestation of his own insecurity in the face, and that was good in an entirely different kind of way, but I digress)

if I have to pick one though, I'm gonna go with Idia's video, because 1) adorable, 2) seriously just look at it, and 3) I did legit have to replay that subchapter on account of laughing over most of it the first time. truly Idia is the artistic genius of our generation.

[bluevelvetea]

So start by saving me, Itadori.

(Find my reference here)

[sassypantsjaxon]

Also I got the new team up missions, which means I got The erasermic pic

And I just...

Does this mean there's a scrapped draft of an erasermic chapter? Because if there is...

[fumifooms]

I don’t like minimizing the importance and gravity of Laios and Toshiro’s fight into just being a childish squabble, even if to a degree it is framed that way, because to both of them it has a lot of personal significance and emotional weight and runs very deep to their characters… The fight isn’t nothing it’s a LOT, they made up but it’s not something easy to express and to get over for either of them which makes it all the more meaningful! I’m on both sides but there very much are sides, there’s no "they’re both having a ball, Toshiro and Laios hand in hand yay" side to the fight, that comes after

The fight with Toshiro WAS very scary to Laios, almost existentially so, but it’s moreso the "I thought I’d made a friend!!" bit and my god. My god actually

Like it’s not "just" about oh his friend liking him less than he thought, THAT IS SO MUCH. It’s a bond he thought he had being a lie it’s all the time and moments spent together either being a lie from his perspective or marred now looking back. It’s not only being upset at Toshiro for lying but upset at himself that he’s so easy to fool, it’s being upset that there’s something so wrong with you that you can’t even tell if your "close buddy" even actually likes you or not, it’s like. Holding my head. He can’t trust his own vision of events that happened do you see. There’s always this film of distrust that it could be a lie that should be there when he interacts with people there’s always this sense of cloak and dagger to expect backstabs out of nowhere because you CAN’T see it coming you CAN’T you CAN’T there’s something about you which makes it impossible so you CAN’T-

He’s so scared of not being able to read people. He knows it’s a weak spot he has, he’s always known. All of these bits are centered around social expectations and betrayals, the assumption that he doesn’t belong either in society or with other humans.

And Laios’ level of awareness is actually sort of complex to analyze, but it’s there, there’s how out of him and Falin he was the one sensitive to the ~aura of hatred~ he felt from the townspeople, there’s of course his nightmares whispering to him about the mocking looks, and how yeah actually he realizes that his gold stripper coworker was taking advantage of him. There’s of course the Winged Lion speech about his trauma and how he fundamentally mistrusts/dislikes humans to some deep seated degree, this distrust that he still keeps under control always. There’s how pre-canon he often wanted to suggest eating monsters but never worked up the courage to bring it up with the others. There’s how he gets across as stoic when he isn’t being enthusiastic…… We don’t know how aware and wary he is exactly in the moment but we do know he has some anxiety around social stuff, and looking back he does notice and aughh augh, the sense you have to hide yourself to not get hurt and be on your guard and shit and.

When you don’t know what to look out for and when to look out for it, the general ‘common sense’ of not always trusting people or noticing when someone’s messing with you becomes hypervigilance in social settings

"Man they really know what you hate huh". Being socially unaware literally plagues him, he knows, he knows it so well.

It’s so quick that it’s almost hard to digest how literal and blatant Laios summoning his monster to crush all the people who’ve hurt him is. His literal go-to coping mechanism for comfort in his literal monster-induced emotionally intense nightmares, saving him by taking away the upsetting element (the humans)

"Monsters are his coping fantasy, where they can whisk him away from humanity, all the hurt it’s caused him and its arbitrary rules" with the subtlety of a brick. Monsters are his comfort safe zone "because they kill humans" yes but no it’s because he pits them as the guardians against humans who to him are in the role of the agressors. To him they represent freedom from the shackles of what it means to be part of humanity, a fundamentally social species

[vingler-mirror]

Silly text post memes I made to cope with Chapter 6

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

[black-and-yellow]

Aizawa Still Has No Tact

For my 1,000th post I wanted to redraw my first ever post (excluding reblogs), but I ended up posting a new chapter of Taxonomies, completely forgetting about this plan, so I had to make it my 1,001st post instead. Close enough. Enjoy this new and tasty remake.

[pavo-dence]

finally finished ghost trick

[adrinktostopyourthirst]

Just imagine your t shirt pushed up over your chest and his large hands on your breasts, panties pushed to the side and legs wrapped around his neck as he groans into your cunt. The heat of his skin everywhere that he touches you, stuttering on your words and him only answering by groaning against you. He’s panting against your skin, inhaling you as he catches his breath, muscular shoulders flexing with each desperate inhale. The brief flex of his ass as he grinds into the mattress just for some relief of his own. You can’t move, only struggle against him. Your hands grapple for any hold - his hands on your chest, his veiny forearms, his hair. Then his hands slide down and under your hips, they push you up and into his mouth, his tongue diving deeper as he shoves a pillow beneath your hips. And he has the audacity to laugh at the broken noise spilling from your lips. One hand presses down on your womb, the other slips a finger into you and curls up, and you are gone-

Yeah…

[mutantninjamidlifecrisis]

[dandp]

It's crazy that like. this show could singlehandedly change phan lore understanding that we've had for over a decade or if not change any existing details at least significantly add to it

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

There are people out there who genuinely think that the Starks aren’t thematically linked to ice in a way that is meaningful and central to the story? What?? I mean, never mind that they’re characterized as exclusively living in a frozen land, it is said that a Stark who goes south of the Neck melts. It’s not like their ancestral sword is called Ice. It’s not like they rule a castle called Winterfell. It’s not like their house words are “Winter is coming”. It’s not like their banner is a direwolf (a creature that is now synonymous with the snowy north) running on what is described as either snow or an ice-white background. It’s not like they are consistently characterized with having icy or cold demeanors to the point of it being a house trait (e.g., Benjen, Ned, Jon). It’s not like they ruled thousands of years as Kings of Winter. It’s not like the Starks, the wolves, are said to be uniquely suited to surviving winter. It’s not like a big part of their house legacy and how they even came to be is the construction of a giant ice Wall. It’s not like a key historical event in the last couple centuries is the Pact of Ice (Stark) and Fire (Targaryen). Apparently none of that matters 🙄 It’s so disingenuous to claim that any house with First Men blood would take on the role of ice. No, that’s a special characteristic given to the STARKS, and their connection with ice and winter and snow has thematic relevance.

[phantomskeep]

WIP Wednesday - Fun In Funeral

For my DCxDP Dead On Main thief!Danny fic, Putting The "Fun" Back In "Funeral". Best read while listening to Ascensionism by Sleep Token

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“I am not a cat boy!” The boy wearing a cat skull protested.

“Then what are you, a discount Catwoman?” Jason asked as he prowled closer to the pouting thief.

“I don’t even know who that is!” Cat Boy continued to lie. “This,” he gestured to the bone-colored mask covering his face, Lazarus green eyes narrowing in distaste, “Is a fashion statement. Nothing more, nothing less. I just- I don’t even know why it’s a cat!”

None of that really made sense to Hood, but keeping a criminal monologuing? Part of Robin 101 - the more they’re distracted, the better chance at them messing up. “So why a cat, then?”

“I just said I don’t know!”

Hood didn’t respond, catching the cat-themed-thief’s stance relaxing by a miniscule amount. With no hesitation, Jason lunged forward - fully intending to football-style tackle the pouting figure into the concrete roof.

In the next few seconds, Jason would recount later to the rest of the Birds and Bats, he had no idea what happened.

He was in the air - arms outstretched to wrap around the other’s torso in a mockery of a hug. He saw the thief’s eyes widen, a startled yelp leaving his mouth. When Hood flew closer to the occultly-dressed thief, it was like a rush of sparkling heat bubbled up through his lung, tearing viciously at his esophagus before laying stagnant in his covered mouth. Already caught off guard, Jason sputtered - failing to land the tackle onto the lithe man in front of him. Instead, Jason fell a few inches short of the man, on his knees with his gloved hands clutching desperately at his throat and chest.

The other didn’t hesitate to dance out of Hood’s reach as the helmeted vigilante coughed in a vain attempt to clear his airways from the heat-sparkle-power-danger that welled inside him. Not-Catwoman stood to the side, head cocked like a curious crow inspecting a shiny coin. While Hood was still doubled over catching his breath, the thief wisely used the opportunity to glide further out of reach.

“I’m almost scared to ask if you’re okay,” Catboy’s voice echoed around them. “But then again… You did just try to shoot me.”

“It was just a warning shot.” Hood coughed out, his words scratchy as he forced them past the invisible sludge that lodged itself in his throat. The Pit Rage stirred in the back of his mind, slowly creeping to the area it used to occupy and whisper. “Give back whatever you stole before I shoot you for real.”

The cloaked man rocked on his heels, jutting his hip out and tapping at his chin with a clothed finger. Hood couldn’t see Catboy’s full expression, but he had long since perfected the art of reading masked individuals when he was thirteen and still wearing Dick’s old scaly panties. The person in front of him was practically radiating smug little sibling vibes.

“How about,” the modulated voice drew out. “I don’t, and I continue on with my extremely successful handjob!”

Jason spluttered in confusion, caught halfway between howling in laughter or rage, as the cat-themed thief jumped off the museum’s roof. The sound of a grapple rang out as the little criminal soared into the polluted Gotham skies. The Rage screamed, pushing Jason’s limbs to take off without a second thought. Green overcame his vision as the high came tearing back in full force, dragging Jason down like a man caught in an undertow. His body gave chase to the masked individual running from the museum, racing across the darkened rooftops in hot pursuit.

The Pit Rage stuck its greedy claws into Jason’s mind and pulled. What happened around him became a green-tinted blur - flying after the thief’s form, firing pot shots when the two were parkouring along the Gotham skyline, a strained voice shouting as the bullets missed. The overwhelming sensation of rage-rage-chase-friend-predator-rage-fight-fear-play-rAGE drowned out any sense of rational thought. It was like Jason was in the backseat again, watching as he lost control of his life as the choices he made as a teen came back to haunt him in divine punishment. He fought against it, just like he did when the Rage took his body to the Titans Tower. Like when he was so beneath the power of the Pit that he took out everything on a highschool kid. All the progress he had made over the last three years - washed away because of a man in a catsuit.

The mere hours he had of quiet peace almost made fighting against the Rage so much harder - Jason knew what it was like again, to not have to battle against his own thoughts every second of the day. To not look at a single act of kindness as some convoluted plot to trap him like a feral, rabid dog. The void in his chest, a grief-stained black hole of bad decisions, warred with the Rage for its own spot in the young man’s own tale of self-sought retribution against himself.

This? This was Jason’s own personal hell. To be alone, trapped inside his mind, while his body was controlled by a green-tinted monster. When his actions were no longer dictated by himself and the worst parts of him came out to play.

When Jason finally wrestled back control, kicking and screaming and fighting his own thoughts like it was the only thing he knew how to do, he found himself leaning against someone’s rooftop greenhouse, alone. The cloaked thief was nowhere in sight, and the ex-crime lord hesitated against nosing around for hints of where he might have absconded off to.

Based on a familiar stretch of cargo cranes, he deduced that he ended up between Gotham University and the docks. The black-haired man took a moment to himself, checking to see how many rounds he had fired (eight, he had emptied an entire clip, because of course he did) and if there was any blood clinging to his uniform (not his, never his, why was it never him–). When he wasn’t able to find anything, Jason forcefully shook out his body, trying to get rid of the built-up tension and stress. It helped him relax, marginally, but did nothing for the painful pressure behind his eyes pounding in time with his heart. The Pit Demon lounged in the back of his brain, oozing an air of self-satisfaction that made Jason want to claw at his own head until it stopped.

“Fuck,” he muttered, shoulders sagging. This entire situation was… not good. Jason didn’t even want to think about talking to the rest of the Bats about this, but. It had been a long time since an episode that bad. He didn’t know if he could control himself if something else set him off, but he wasn’t prideful enough to risk innocent people to a Rage-filled Red Hood.

[bi-hop]

this Labru shit goes crazy, get prepared to die behind it