#GOD THE KID LOOKS SO TIRED

[wordsinhaled]

Wild to me that photo-shoots like this exist and no one has yet written the AU where Charles has many outfits for Edwin to lose his mind over. But it’s about more than just the outfits, of course. It always is.

So... if I were to do it it'd be like this:

Charles’ history and childhood are the same, and he’s chock-full of confidence issues, anger, a profound need for validation. When he’s in front of a camera he can make that all disappear for a bit, and just be pretty.

But what is he worth when what he is isn’t pretty? When he’s full of spitting, incandescent rage so strong it scares him; when all he wants is to fight back against the people who hurt him?

He thinks it’s ugly how much he can’t stand his dad. How jagged he is inside. How much he wants to be loved and held safe. How deep he carries the shame for wanting to simply be admired, and for daring to think he could deserve it.

He learns his way around a cricket pitch because he has to. Because it’s the thing to do. The thing that’s going to get him the least hurt, at home and at school. But it’s not foolproof: He’s never quite one of the lads. Never quite the right sort of son, either.

Charles who saves up for ages for drapey, pretty things; lovely things; things that feel too nice and look too nice on him, and secrets them away because if his father or his friends find them he’ll be dead. Charles who finds a secondhand camera in a charity shop. Charles who takes secret photos in the middle of the night of himself wearing his secret clothes, photos in which he could maybe be the kind of person he wishes he could be all the time. Confident. Cool. Not just pretty but beautiful. Unbroken.

He stashes the photos even though it would be safer not to keep them at all. And maybe it should be enough just to know he took them. But some selfish and needy part of him wants the evidence, the physical proof. So he’s got this shoebox of photographs stashed under a loose floorboard in his dormitory room at St. Hilarion’s, and after he dies, he retrieves it before he and Edwin leave the school together forever.

He won’t let Edwin look inside the box, at first.

Charles doesn’t show up on film anymore, or in mirrors. He tries to keep it a secret from Edwin—that this might be the bit that hurts the worst about dying, the being invisible. But it’s harder to keep this a secret than other things about his past.

He doesn’t have to really actually say it. It’s the wistful glances that do him in, probably, the ones he fails to hide well enough. One day, with no preamble, Edwin presents him with a full-length mirror in an ornate frame. “We going somewhere, mate?” Charles asks. Edwin tells him no, this mirror is different. He’s enchanted it. “Look again, Charles,” he says gently. And Charles looks again, and realizes he can see himself.

And who the fuck is going to stop him choosing what he likes now, when he’s picking out his outfits for the afterlife? His cunt of a dad? The ignorant tossers who drowned him to death? Charles’d like to see any of them try.

It seems like it won’t be Edwin who stops him either—Edwin, who goes a little glazed round the eyes every time Charles draws up short to stare at a silk shirt in a highstreet window. Nah, Edwin Payne’s a bloody first-rate enabler of all of Charles’ base needs to feel worth it. Charles has got the best best mate in the world. He doesn’t say anything as Charles’ wardrobe slowly grows. Just smiles his little enigmatic smile, the one that's just for Charles with its tantalizing flash of teeth, and drags his gaze over Charles like he approves of Charles’ daring every time Charles wears something new.

So one day he shows Edwin the box. The photos. A month later Edwin brings him a vintage camera and a roll of spelled film. Offers to photograph him.

And Charles could cry. Could shake apart into tiny little pieces. He wants to be seen so fucking bad. By Edwin in specific. By Edwin, who wraps himself all up in tweed and pinstripes and flushes regularly at the sight of Charles’ collarbone. By prim and proper Edwin, who puts his hand on the small of Charles’ back and tells him to buy the silk shirt; that is why they get paid for taking on cases, isn’t it, after all? Port Townsend has changed him. Changed them both.

“We all have our pleasures,” Edwin says, and there’s that smile again, that raised eyebrow—and what does it mean? Charles wants to know Edwin’s pleasures. Wants to be one of them.

Can he be one of them?

There’s a tiny little thrift store in this little seaside town, crammed full of clothes Charles loves almost viscerally and just has to have - but he doesn’t try any of them on until they’re back home in London, in the familiar comfort of their cluttered, dimly-lit office. He digs the camera out of the bag of tricks backpack then, puts in the film; checks and rechecks that he’s put it in right.

One evening he sets the camera on the desk in front of Edwin, who is reading. Waits patiently for his attention to catch on it and for his curious eyes to lift to Charles’ face.

“Right,” Charles says. Past the lump of nerves in his throat and the phantom heat in his cheeks and the impending thrill of being looked at. “About those photographs. You asked if I’d...”

“Be amenable,” Edwin finishes for him, like he’s remembering their conversation precisely.

Charles wants to shrivel up. And he also wants to stand taller, prouder. Angle himself just right. Because Edwin’s watching him now, appraising, and the idea that he might like what he sees makes something unbearably good fizzle down Charles' spine. “Well, I'm. I'm a bit more than amenable, mate,” he says. His voice is a rasp in his throat.

“Are you indeed,” Edwin says evenly. He steeples his fingers. Like Charles is a case and he’s already solved him. Like Charles is one of his cherished first-edition detective magazines with a fraying binding and Edwin is going to fix him right up.

Maybe it'll be easy. Done in a flash. Or if not, maybe Edwin will be up for the challenge. Charles wants to find out which, more than he's ever wanted something in his entire short life and in his afterlife combined.

[hinamie]

I'm always pushing you away from me / but you come back with gravity / and when I call, you come home

[bixels]

Some pieces from my art final last quarter.

I haven’t returned to Taiwan/China in a decade. My family, my cousins, have grown up without me; I don’t even know what they look like anymore. This series superimposes cartoon self portraits onto real photos taken by myself and my mother during my last visit ten years ago. The photos have been collaged with elements of childhood. The series reclaims my memories of Taiwan/China and reckons with the passing of time and the changing of space, flattening my experiences into a fictional, digital world where I never left.

The bottom piece is a timelapse of my old family house from 2009 to 2023, now an apartment block.

[louthelost]

Lothal is my home

Ezra Bridger, the character that you are...

(progress shots under the cut)

[kijeu]

favourite bang chan fancams 7 / ∞ [ 240811 sbs inkigayo - jjam ♡ - ✩]

[puppyeared]

personal character design headcanons + brainrot

Note: the re-bound!au does NOT belong to me, it belongs to @chipper-smol I’m just not normal about it lol

[krysmcscience]

Oh, hey, remember these cute lil kiddos who totally aren't evil or anything?

Yeah, they're in color now. And still very much actually evil.

pay no mind to the lazy background behind the orphans

Some more headcanon rambles under the cut:

Prior deets are here.

I've thought a little bit more about each Bishop's backstory kinda? But not too much - mostly just deciding how they met, and having fun assigning deaths to their families to allow for a continued cycle of abuse (in a sense). Each of the Bishops' families died in a way that relates to their eventual domains as gods, enabling them to lash out at others with the very things that left them as orphans. Because I'm nice to characters like that. And by nice I mean horrible. :D

Shamura:

Shamura's parents were already part of a cult, and had learned too much about a group of enemy heretics they'd been spying on, and thus their rather large family was slaughtered alongside the rest of the family's cult in the midst of the ongoing war. Shamura had been away to run an errand before the attack, and thus was unable to do anything about it (in parallel to how they did very little to protect their siblings from both Narinder and the Lamb). They were very close to their family, and the loss drove them to start finding new family in the form of other orphans they came across. It wasn't just the four who became their adopted siblings, but the others either did not survive, or simply couldn't keep up with Shamura's ambitions - to end the gods whose followers took up arms and cut down everyone Shamura knew.

Throughout their journeys, they intensely studied the ways of war, weaponry, and spellcasting, particularly curses; because, after all, gods could hardly be killed with mere mortal weapons. They also researched a great deal into the gods' crowns, as well as certain immortal entities who weren't quite gods, as the three birds seemed strangely neutral, and amenable to helping anyone who crossed their paths, all without asking for anything in return. Shamura's studies and research grew much easier once they met Kallamar, due to the circumstances of his upbringing.

Kallamar:

Kallamar's well-off but isolated family was wiped out by disease, spread intentionally by those who wanted to quickly wipe out proclaimed heretics, and Kallamar himself nearly died from the sickness, as well. He was found by Shamura, who had only been intending to rob the manor he lived in, but offered to nurse him back to health if he would grant them use of the place as a base of operations. He agreed, so Shamura did as they offered, with some assistance from their entourage, which by that time already included Heket.

Once Kallamar was on the mend, he was informed of precisely who was responsible for the obliteration of his family. He chose to join Shamura's group in seeking vengeance, and began to learn how to utilize various weapons from them. Due to his cowardly tendencies, though, on his own time, he focused more on subtler methods that he could use up until being backed into a corner - poisons, mainly, before expanding to contagions created from a mix of curses and natural elements. Kallamar's manor remained a base of operations for the siblings up until the beginnings of the Old Faith were established, and their respective temples constructed.

Heket:

Heket was an only child, and her parents both starved to death; they were farmers whose livestock died out across several consecutive crop failures. Those failures were made worse by intentional sabotage from several feuding cults situated nearby, as none of them wanted to risk letting their enemies barter for critical food supplies. Heket managed to survive by consuming her own parents' bodies, as well as those of dead cultists she came across while trying to go on living as close to normally as she could, though when it was realized that she was alone, her home was invaded while she was out looking for more food. Furious at the audacity, she torched the place with the interlopers still inside, and set out in search of a new home - and more food, which she was not picky about.

She would steal anything she could to eat from campsites and cult grounds, and for good measure, she would set anything she couldn't carry with her ablaze before moving on - equal parts distraction and a means to starve out potential enemies. She crossed paths with Shamura by chance - alone - and attempted to rob them of their food. They were more clever than she expected, though, and by now already used to desperately hungry orphans trying to nick a meal. To her surprise, Shamura invited her to eat with their small group, and between the food and the talk of bringing down the many warring cults one by own, Heket decided to continue traveling with Shamura - whether they wanted her to or not. Fortunately, they did, as she was already quickly learning the tricks to thievery, and had a knack for utilizing explosives. (I will die on this hill. She blew me up so many times, Kallamar had nothing on her.)

Leshy:

Leshy's nomadic family was killed in a freak accident - a lightning strike right in the middle of a random ambush by traveling cultists. Being little more than a toddler, Leshy initially survived by burrowing out of sight, and then by disarming the attackers with how deceptively cute he looked. On a whim, one of the cultists decided to try to indoctrinate him, and he was carried along with the group until nightfall - after which, in a fit of pure unhinged toddler fury, he wrecked their campsite AND their faces before fleeing underground. He survived just short of feral for a while, catching his food (animals and people) in the pit traps he'd learned to make from his family. After that, he wound up wandering close enough to Kallamar's manor to spot a group of kids heading inside, and decided to be the little menace he is.

He started off digging traps around the manor - and definitely ate at least one of the orphan kids - before graduating to breaking and entering. He nicked food, toys, and/or weapons each time, mostly just for the fun of it, before Shamura eventually managed to catch Leshy in a trap he couldn't burrow or bite his way out of (and his cute puppy eyes were not going to work on them anymore - not after the first two dozen times). Kallamar attempted to make Leshy fix all that he'd broken in the manor, as well as return everything he'd stolen, with very minimal success. Heket wound up being the one to bring Leshy more or less to heel, mostly by feeding him and showing off all the cool ways she could blow things up, which he found entertaining enough to become slightly more bearable around other people. For a long time, however, having him around was more or less like living with a half-feral and all-manic hyperactive animal without any concept of or care for social niceties. Kallamar did not appreciate all the property damage, but conceded to Shamura's certainty that Leshy's...unique skillset would be useful going forward. (Naturally, they were not wrong.)

Narinder:

In keeping with parallels - more than one this time, even - Narinder attacked and killed his own family. Eventually, at least, and as retribution, because his parents saw him as the runt of the litter, too needy and not worth the effort it would take to keep him alive. He was not merely abandoned, but sold off for a pittance to cultists, who wanted to sacrifice him to the then-god of death. Being as small as he was at the time, however, he was able to squeeze out of his shackles and wriggle from his chains on the way to the cult's ritual grounds, sneaking away while his captors were distracted. He did not go far, however - he was too furious with them for that. He trailed after them, instead, waiting until nightfall, and strangled the leader in their sleep with the very chains they'd put on him, before cutting the throats of the rest of the sleeping cultists. He then attempted to track down his traitorous family by following scent trails, but was soon thwarted by a downpour. Still, he vowed to find them one day, and sacrifice them the same way he would have been had he not escaped.

The deets for his meeting his siblings are in the prior post, so that really just leaves his family's deaths. After Shamura began their rise to power, their growing influence - along with help from the other siblings - made it easy for Narinder to discover where his parents and littermates had taken refuge. With his own influence in Shamura's budding cult, he faced no issues with ordering his "family" to be brought to him for sacrifice, though he did briefly fly off the handle and cut down his father for being the one to suggest selling the runt. Speaking of which - Narinder was quite delighted to let his so-called family see how much bigger he was than all of them by that point. He was equally delighted to behead every last family member himself, and to desecrate their remains by putting various pieces of them on display around the cult grounds. I'd say his adoptive siblings were disturbed by this, but. Obviously, every last one is fucked up enough to where we all know they weren't. <:]

At some point I'll share the toxic obsessive Narilamb AU that draws from this backstory, lmao, but for now I need to sleep. X_X;

[rizziedizzie]

(Don't tell me I drew the tsum wrong I'm tired and it was the easiest way to draw it + I drew the mushrooms, floor, and dirt weirdly😭😞)

[ct-multifandom]

I don’t usually make posts like this, but I’ve been seeing a lot of anti-intellectual junk lately, and I really think we need to put the word “pretentious” up on a shelf until people learn what it actually means.

It doesn’t describe someone who likes artsy-fartsy deep meaning media. People who are pretentious are fake. They’re posers trying to be sophisticated and unique, not like other girls. They pretend to only like stuff they think will make them sound cool when they talk about it. They want to act like they know something you don’t, and they want attention for it.

By definition, if you genuinely enjoy something, you can’t be pretentious. If it resonates with you, and you analyze it, and you don’t care what people think, that’s the polar opposite, actually. If you love obscure experimental prog music, if you watch underground high concept indie films through English teacher eyes, if you spend hours in a modern art museum reading each piece as a vessel for storytelling, if your backpack’s full of poetry books that inspire you, if you play underrated games that were someone’s passion project, if you have an interest in studying the classics or the masters, you are not pretentious.

Of course, some people just don’t like some stuff, and that’s fine, but that’s not what this is about. Don’t let anti-intellectuals shame you for enjoying things just because your interests are inaccessible to them, because they refuse to be brave and put effort into critical thinking. You’re not stuck up for refusing to overlook the craft of artists.

[ragnarokhound]

For the au ask game!

OKAY I wanted specifically to get to the pokemon au from the ask you sent, it's been cooking a bit so it's time to see what comes out of the oven, so... @azol-otl ty for the ask!

Crossover au's are all about the fused worldbuilding for me and speculating on how characters from universe A would fit into universe B heehee hoohoo - and for Batfam especially it's fun to think about the equivalent of their roles as vigilantes! What kind of people have the same level of celebrity, the same sideways seeking of justice?

Naturally this leads you to the gym leaders because a) it's the most fun and b) they are like. Quasi-law enforcement/educators/professional athletes depending on how you try to translate the innate child's perspective on the pokemon universe into something that makes sense as an adult lol ilu pokemon. [insert 'compels me though' gif here]

SO with this in mind, here's 5 fun facts (that are mostly backstory lmao) from a jaytim pokemon au I would write

I'm deeply ill about pokemon so this one goes under the cut lol:

Jason Todd used to be the Champion. He won the role after Dick Grayson quit a year or two before (Dick had been getting older and chafing under the League rules - meaning he'd been chafing under how Bruce ran the League) and was a fierce competitor who didn't believe in going easy on anyone. His Houndoom was a force to be reckoned with, and despite running a mostly Dark-type team, his Honchkrow cleaned up anyone thinking their Fighting-types could sweep. He looked after the League and Gotham with a cocky, self-assured attitude and the win record to back it up. .

Jason disappeared suddenly at the age of 15. Many assumed him dead, after a Rocket (Or whatever Gotham themed gang name we want to go with lol could be Team Joker) bombing in the area he'd last been seen, but he's officially declared missing. Bruce Wayne took back the duties of interim Champion as he once did for Dick Grayson, but he's not quite the mentor he once was. It's obvious he's grieving, and that he doesn't want to mentor any more twelve year olds. Dick signed up to be a Gym Leader shortly after this, returning from his trip about a year early to help out in the chaos following Jason's disappearance. .

Enter Tim Drake. Tim's gym challenge wasn't all that interesting in the circuit at first; he had a rocky start and had to retake a few gym challenges. He wasn't exactly sweeping on his first try every time like Jason had done. He didn't have the meteoric rise that caught the Champion's attention early, didn't get one-on-one mentorship or face-to-face meetings, cautionary advice and congratulations all rolled into one from Bruce Wayne himself - but Tim had patience and grit, and he paid attention. He was gunning for the Championship, and it wasn't just so he could prove himself. Team Rocket/Joker was still out there, and Bruce needed all the help he could get. He was always better for Gotham when he had a Robin. .

Dick had been nicknamed Robin for his all-Flying-type team and especially his Natu-then-Xatu; Jason followed up with his Murkrow-then-Honchkrow; Tim's Rookidee was one among many (Robin-esque pokemon were popularized by Dick and the trend remains through Tim's day) so he wasn't considered a possible Robin successor until it was a Corvisquire and he was about to face Dick Grayson himself, a badge away from Victory Road. By then, Tim and his team were a well-oiled machine (he runs mostly Steel-types lol but also Normal-types for the unexpected adaptability and the 'underestimate my rattata i dare you it's in the top peRCENTAGE--' of it all. FEAR.), and his loss-record had all but frozen while his win-record ticked higher and higher. .

Shit finally goes down about three years after Tim has become Champion and all but bullied Bruce into mentoring him (he basically said 'if you don't watch me, i'll go find Team Rocket/Joker on my own' and triggers all of Bruce's child endangerment traumas simultaneously) and the mysterious Rocket/Joker leader Red Hood shows up, bringing the gang out of the shadows in pursuit of a hidden agenda. Identity shenanigans and "wait is that a Houndoom? But he's only been using Ghost-types, it CAN'T be..." and heel-face turns abound. .

(BONUS FACT: Something something, Jason went into deep cover with Looker or whoever he is, that Interpol guy from X & Y (WAIT. LOOKER MIGHT ACTUALLY BE TALIA AL GHUL IN THIS AU HOHOHO), infiltrating the Rocket/Joker gang and going public as Red Hood is the first step in the last phase of the sting. Cue a million tense Jaytim interactions in which Tim is legitimately trying to take Red Hood down and Jason desperately tries to shake him so that he doesn't do anything that forces Jason to blow his cover. There is at least one 'tugged into a tight space to hide them both from the actual bad guys, "wait, did you just HELP me...?" "Think whatever you want, babybird"' interaction because I am a slut for the first sprinkles of a redemption arc that is rife with UST fufufu)

[nonsensemonkey]

i think if you think someone is a bad person simply because they view/portray a character differently than you do, you need to take your ass outside and talk to real people. this is ESPECIALLY true when yall know that you're almost entirely projecting who YOU are as in individual onto these characters. you cannot expect people to portray a character as you with better hair-- none of us know each other. we're all strangers. your story- the one you use to try and force parallels with your fave- is nonexistent as far as the next person is concerned.

im not saying there's anything wrong with projecting on to your faves. TONS of people do it-- which is why, you're not always going to find people who view the character the exact same way you want them to. because their projection looks different from your projection.

if you want a character to be portrayed exactly like you want them to, if you want a character that shares your likeness (whatever that means to you) create your own original character. no one can "take that away from you" because it's your own creation and you dictate what's true or not.

everything else is all entirely up to the individual's interpretation that's consuming the media, same as you.

[jamtartandsunshine]

Someone commented on God the kid looks so sad asking if I was going to continue it and the answer is yes absolutely I'm just fighting through some writers block but I do have half of the next chapter written and I thought I'd share a snippet just in an attempt to nudge open the floodgates in my tired little brain ________________________________________________ Roy only has to much self-restraint. Turns out when you let a kid sob into your chest, you fucking care about them or some shit. Or that’s what he tells himself as he bangs on Jamie’s door on their one day off. “Roy?” Jamie says confused as he opens the door. “Yeah, its fucking me” Roy says pushing past Jamie with bags in his hands. “What are you doing here?” “I’m making you lunch.” “You what?” Jamie asks trailing behind Roy as he walks into Jamie’s kitchen and starts unpacking his shopping bags. “I’m making you lunch” Roy repeats. “You’ve lost weight” “Just a little” Jamie says blushing slightly. “Enough that I noticed” Roy points out pulling out a bag of potatoes and a bag of brown rice.

[hinamie]

cursed kids v2 ⚠️👹

i've been a jjk first years stan since day one and have been wanting to redraw the first art i did featuring the three of them

[unknownarmageddon]

people who throw rocks at birds for fun fucking SUCK btw

[theloveinc]

i need to be kiri’s chubby lil housewife who’s always getting doted on and bred and cuddled and- i need to be sedated im so in love with him

BREAKING NEWS: housewife sedated after being too in love with her husband😩😩😩 TUNE IN FOR more about her big breeder daddy AT EIGHT!!!!!

(no but forreal... need to be the wife all his friends are jealous of, who makes pastries and snacks for the agency every week and and is called his sidekicks' bonus mom, who brings all his babies in to say hi and get kisses when he's not on patrol...................then gets to fuck in his own personal office shower when they're being watched by other heroes.... and then conceives again...............)

[francy-sketches]

I hateeee how asoiaf has just become the "incest books lol" to so many people. what a dumb and reductive way to look at a series that has so much more like. of all the things you could say are the central themes of asoiaf incest in not one of them lmao.(yes obviously it's present, but not nearly as much as people make it out to be) And this isn't about people who havent read it and are just judging from the outside bc who gives a shit about them. But I see this mostly from fans and its just??? what the fuck did you read/watch lmao. I mean even hotd which centers around thee incest family isnt about the incest and you'd have to have negative media literacy to think it is.

Also it's fucking insane how being uncomfortable with incest shipping gets you ridiculed in this fandom lmao. like I'm not here to be the morality police ship whatever the fuck you want idc. but dont be surprised when it makes people uncomfortable??? "ummm if you dont like incest why are you reading the incest books/watching the incest show??? weirdo" I dont fucking know man maybe all the other 348593 interesting things it's about. just a guess. And these are the same people who go on about "well just bc you write something fucked up doest mean you agree with it" which. yes! true!! then why do you uncritically endorse targ incest blood purity 😭 do you think maybe that's one of the things grrm wrote that he doesnt agree with? of course not, hotd is a cautionary tale about the dangers of not doing incest and what happens when you let your pure valyrian blood be contaminated by gross peasant genes from outside your family ^_^ obviously ^_^ and anyone who's not into your incest ships is a bigot <3 "but it's normal in their world!1!11!!!" no its not lol. and even if it was. marrying children is also normal in their world what's your point