#I am SO glad you're here

[cinamun]

Good morning to women over 30 who feel old, specifically because our dumb ass culture says that women over 30 are old and useless, and everyone has been buying into that dumb ass shit.

Spoiler: You're not old. You look great and have really landed in a wonderful place in life. I hope you know that and I hope you keep living.

Have a wonderful weekend.

[dig-with-it]

[vaguely-concerned]

the more I play the more I think lucanis basically knows it's illario who betrayed him right from the beginning (he's had a year in the ossuary to think. not that many people knew where he was going. when you ask him 'did Illario know you'd be on that ship' his only answer is the hardest flattest 'yes' you ever heard). so it's not so much about figuring out who the traitor is (because that's ludicrous. we all know. immediately. they didn't really bother to hide it lmao) as about methodically closing off every single avenue of denial lucanis has clung to that whole time with as much or little gentleness as you might prefer until he has no choice but to admit it. because the moment he has to admit it, he'll have to do something -- feel something -- about it. and that's such a catastrophic event in lucanis' inner landscape (he has had TWO people in this whole entire world up until now and will do anything to hold on to them with a heartbreaking child-like desperation, even at and especially through the detriment of his own self) that he'd rather just. not. what if we quite simply. didn't. what if we just stayed here in the emptiness where we can both pretend you didn't hurt me in a way I should never forgive. I have so much practice in that with caterina already it's always worked out great for everyone so far. (press x to fucking doubt but that's trauma logic for you lol)

after everything illario did, so much of the storm of lucanis' emotions around it is 'what the FUCK did you get yourself tangled up in this time and how do I get you out of this mess safely'. what's worse: the fact that your brother murdered you, or that he put himself in horrible danger doing so and thus exposed you to the risk of losing him forever. lucanis' heart certainly has an opinion here and it's fucking unhinged (affectionate)

the themes of dissociation in lucanis' character in general makes me feel nuts. allllll these contradictory messy things he needs to cut off from each other because they can't coexist or be easily reconciled inside him. but all remain stubbornly true separately anyway and will have their due one day. love and resentment. tenderness and fear and rage. terror and longing. love and freedom don't coexist. the burned out golden child anthem is playing in the background. he was always caterina's favourite and he has to keep striving to deserve that dubious honour with every breath he takes and then, presumably, mercifully, some day he will die and be excused and can rest. and until now he's suppressed all the -- natural, healthy, protective! -- negative feelings that threaten the few attachment relationships he actually has, at the cost of ever actually having his needs for connection and safety met and leaving his core self imprisoned and compromised. and spite goes 'what. no. that's dumb fuck that' (*spite voice* I do not understand that and even if I did I would not respect it) and does not allow him to fall back into that, which I think is what saves his life, ultimately. it took being possessed by a demon for lucanis to even contemplate telling anyone he loves 'no' in any way, but hey. whatever gets you there right lol

lucanis is dealing with the freeze response allll the way down baby. and he was even before the ossuary, that just turbo powered it and brought it to a breaking point way before it could happen naturally. but something was going to break eventually no matter what, and I'm just glad that in the end, through the power of friendship and also pure spite, it doesn't have to be him

[shanastoryteller]

The day his deal comes due, Sam goes missing.

Dean tells himself it’s nothing, that he’s gotten caught up in some research, some last ditch, hail mary nonsense and that he’s just turned his phone off and everything’s fine, that he wouldn’t do something stupid, that he wouldn’t break his promise.

He tells himself that for the first two minutes after he cracks his eyes open and sees the empty bed across from him, and the first time his call goes straight to voicemail, and not much after that. Sam’s broken his promises over things significantly less important to him than his brother’s life.

Dean is dressed and in the Impala five minutes later, heart thudding wildly in his chest. He calls Bobby, Ellen, everyone he can think of, but none of them have heard from Sam, none of them have eyes on him. Sam was with him last night, even if he boosted a car, there’s only so far he can get.

He keeps calling, keep searching, desperate to stop whatever he’s trying to do, to find him, to see his brother one last time before he’s dragged to hell. To make sure Sam is going to be okay after he’s dragged to hell. But the hours tick down, the sun sets, and he can’t find a trace of him. He’s so exhausted and heart sick that when he goes to call Sam again it takes him a long time to read the number on his phone, eyes swimming, the time not making any sense.

1:03

That’s not possible.

That’s not –

His phone rings, blocking out the time with Bobby’s name across the screen, and he answers it but his throat is too thick to say anything.

“Dean?” Bobby says tentatively. “Are you – I got an email from Sam. It just said, I mean, did–“

“What did it say, Bobby?” he asks, even though he’s sure he knows.

Bobby sucks in a breath at his voice, because he knows just as well as Dean that he should be screaming in hell right now, not answering his phone. “To take care of you.”

Dean drops the phone, hears Bobby still talking as he grips the wheel and presses his forehead against the back of his hands. This is what he’d been afraid of. This is why he hadn’t wanted to mess with the deal in first place. This is the one thing he’d begged Sam not to do.

It's easy to find a crossroad.

The demon is laughing at him when it shows up, wicked grin in a pretty face. “That didn’t take you long, boy.”

It’s a different demon than the one he delt with, obviously, but Dean figures they all know the same shit, since demons are a bunch of gossips. “This wasn’t the deal. My brother lives and I die.”

“You traded your soul for your brother’s life,” she corrects, so amused by all this that all he wants to do is kill her, to exorcise her, to make her scream. “Just like your father traded his for yours. There’s no reason Sammy can’t make his own trade. Man, but is your family fucked up. Maybe if you’d just settled down like little Sammy wanted, you wouldn’t all be bargaining for each other’s lives like haggling at a flea market.”

“Untrade it,” he snaps. “My soul for him alive, come on, no year, no waiting, you bring him back and take me to hell right now.”

She laughs in his face. “You don’t have anything to bargain with, boy.”

“My soul,” he repeats, “That’s what this is about, isn’t?”

“Oh, it’s what it’s all about,” she says. “But Sammy’s a clever boy. You know that, don’t you? He didn’t trade his soul for your life, he didn’t have to. You didn’t die. No, he traded it for your soul. Sorry, honey, but your credits been declined.”

At first he doesn’t understand. Sam traded his soul for Dean’s, exactly, so there’s no reason he can’t trade it right back. Then he gets it.

She sees the exact moment it clicks, the moment despair and horror sweep across his face too quickly for him to stop them. “That’s right. Little brother owns your soul now. For some reason he didn’t think you’d take proper care of it. You have it because that’s where he wants it, but no one will be making any deals with you, Dean Winchester. You can’t sell a soul you don’t own.”

“You can’t,” he has to clear his throat, “you can’t just come in and change things at the eleventh hour-”

“Eleventh hour?” she interrupts. “Sammy made his deal eleven months ago.”

His mouth is so dry he can’t speak.

“Isn’t it funny?” she asks, head cocked to the side. “All this time, the deal he’s been trying to get out of wasn’t yours, but his own. Maybe the two of you might have even managed it, except you just wouldn’t help, would you? Insisting that he not research, that he not look for a way out, and he spent so much time trying to convince you, coaxing you to talk about your feelings when he knew you were safe, all he because he thought it would make you feel better when he was gone, because he couldn’t tell you the truth and talk about how scared he was, so talking about your fear was as close as he could get.”

Dean’s going to be sick. “Don’t – please, please, I’ll give you anything-”

“You don’t have anything,” she says, gleeful. “You want to know why I agreed? The thing that made it just too delicious to refuse? Sammy’s down there, just starting in on an eternity of torture, and all he has to do get out of it is give up your soul. It’s his, after all, and he can put the original deal back in place any time he chooses. Just one moment of weakness on his end and his beloved big brother will be on the rack instead.” She sighs happily. “It’s almost as good as anything we’re doing to him down there, the knowledge that if he slips up for even a moment then it would all be for nothing. I couldn’t have found a way to twist the knife deeper if I tried.”

There’s vomit crawling its way up his throat and he has to swallow it down before he can speak. “I can’t – I’ll do whatever you want, please, there has to be something.”

She leans forward, cruelty and delight shining in her eyes. “The only thing you can do is what you’ve been telling your precious baby brother to do for the past year. Accept it. Move on. Live a good life so his sacrifice isn’t in vain.”

God. How can she – how can Sammy expect him to –

He’s doubling over, finally upchucking what little he’s ate today, and he’s dry heaving on the dirt when he hears the fading sound of her laughter.

This can’t be real. This has to be Hell, he has to be in it right now. He has to be.

[xoxoemynn]

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

Hello OFMD crew, I know this isn't how we wanted to be spending our Pride month but I'm so happy to be spending it with you.

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

[wings-of-ink]

Behind the curtain...

Lunan: *Making good progress on Chapter 5*

Background Thoughts: "You're on track so far, you can probably do that side story you had in mind for December."

Lunan: "Oh yeah, and I wanted to do something special to celebrate when we reach 2000 followers too...I missed 500 and 1000, I really want to do something for 2k."

Background Thoughts: "Good idea, have you checked how close we are?"

Lunan: "Ha ha, no silly, that's miles away."

Logic & Planning Dept: "You should check so we can estimate a timeframe and make a schedule."

Lunan: "Later, I'm sure it's fine."

Logic & Planning: "Check now or I will wake you up at 2AM."

Lunan: "Fiiiine....Jerk."

Logic & Planning: "I'm not mad, I'm disappointed."

[demonslayedher]

I finished posting the unabashedly educational Sword Fic.

It includes a detailed (but hopefully beginner-friendly) explanation of all the steps of making a Nichirin blade from a sunny mountain like Mt. Youkou, a touch of swordsmith and metalworker folk lore (including demons), meta about what must make Kimetsu no Yaiba's swordsmithing methods different from real life methods, some character exploration for Haganezuka and his polishing method, vocabulary and additional resources in the chapter notes, and hopefully, an endearing, silly POV character to learn this all through.

[deep-space-lines]

can't wait til I start this stupid job so I won't have to be doing commissions all the fucking time to buy groceries, this shut sucks the joy out of art so much. I wanna be drawing ultrakill stuff & personal art & doing crafts & reading books but every time I sit down to do something for me I'm thinking about the fact that I should be doing commissions. I'm so glad I didn't go into art as an actual career, I would hate myself so much forever

[marc--chilton]

screaming going insane im begging you to talk more about house developing a pavlovian response to wilsons nagging. like you’re right.

like house is already not subtle about wilson (you can only joke about wanting to fuck a guy so much before people start thinking you actually wanna fuck the guy) (i am not convinced he was ever joking)

and house has sooo many issues, the most prevalent being ones that stem from his leg and resulting disability after a life of activity, BUT we also must consider also those that stem from his childhood..... when a parent treats you terribly even the most logic-minded and rational people will think they deserve it. and when that is normal for you, it's almost a comfort. especially if that's the only attention you're getting from them

now let's set that aside for a second. house has always thought of wilson positively from day one (finding him "interesting" which is like the normal person equivalent of saying love at first sight, in this case) and i am not alone in thinking that house is pining in some form. and he fucks. the wires get crossed. something in his brain goes from "no one can make him mad like i can :) " to "he's hot when he's negging me" to house beating it in the hospital showers

95% (why did the numbers get HUGE just then. like i'm making a point sure but goddamn 70 point font pop off) of the time house will walk away from an interaction with wilson feeling great, even if he just got lectured within an inch of his life. just look at how often he gets the Diagnosis Revelation just from bothering wilson for five minutes (and that being all of wilson's screentime in the ep)

they're sick. they're basically having sex every episode. there are cathedrals everywhere for those with the eyes to see

[tenderhooked]

camcorder kidnapping sounds soooooooo good so far! So excited for when we can finally read it!! ❤️

OH WAH... THANK YOUUUUUU!!!! i am having a Lot of fun with it and i've powered through on it much much faster than i was expecting so.... expect an update sooner rather than later!!! for now, here's a snippet :)

There’s a man standing outside, his arms crossed over his chest. His face is uncovered—Catherine’s spine prickles at the sight. Kidnappers don’t show their faces unless they’re either very stupid, or very certain that their captives will never have the opportunity to identify them. And it is a rather unpleasant face: carved of jagged peaks, weathered with deep lines and a sternly-set mouth. He’s closer to her age than to River’s. His eyes are slate-flat, like a shark’s, seeking blood in the water.  Unconsciously, Catherine laces her fingers around River’s nearest hand and squeezes tight. “You removed your blindfolds,” the man says to them. “… Y-yes,” says Catherine at length, praying her voice doesn’t quake as much as her body is. “I did.” The man nods slowly, like molasses. And then, with unerring accuracy, he lunges forward, grasps her by the wrists, and wrenches her out onto the ground, leaving her to collapse to her knees on hard-packed dirt. It hurts, it does—but not nearly as terribly as the hard, efficient slap he gives her right cheek. It’s executed with such expertise that it takes her a dumb moment to register what he’s done, and then she becomes aware that she’s pressed up against the gravel, grit in her mouth, a hot welt rising fast on her cheekbone. She blinks, ears ringing, and pushes herself back up, onto her knees. The man appraises her from above, an almost amused glint in those shark’s eyes.  “Don’t you fucking touch her, you—” The amusement vanishes as swiftly as it had arrived, as though it hadn’t existed at all. He pivots towards the van and hauls River out the same as he did to her, sending him to a kneeling position on the ground. But River, unlike her, appears to have maintained some semblance of a spine; he spits at their captor’s boots and snarls, “I said, don’t you fucking touch her—” The man takes River’s chin in the clutch of two meaty fingers. “I suggest,” he says, a cruel smirk curving his mouth into a scythe, “that you keep your pretty little mouth shut.”

[lesbiansayaishii]

genuinely i cannot believe there are people getting into meddison in the year 2024. what food are you here for lol theres. quite literally nothing

[zaritarazi]

detective comics comics i will wear you down until you are NOTHING and then we'll see if kendra's bi

[shivunin]

Coming out of a really low period is so rough because now I care if things are clean or where they're supposed to be and!! None of it is!!

I haven't dusted anything in more than a year. Books are just piled on my shelves instead of being properly placed on them. I stuck appliances in convenient locations a year ago and haven't been able to find them since. We bought things for house projects to make our lives easier a year ago and likewise haven't touched them since. I am surrounded by objects in the wrong place and cumulative dust and books of recipes i wanted to try and never did and hobbies i wanted to pick up and couldn't and aghhhhhhh

[nkogneatho]

lmfao i lowkey love discourse on dash because then i know who to block. weeding them all out.

[astralarias]

realizing i haven't had anyone hold or cuddle with me in more than a decade

[phynixdotcom]

Idk why the fucken... Divide between "it was alternate universes" & "Paul is just trans" ideas for Petscop has to be torn into a cavern. Paul being trans DOES make sense, but requires you to ignore huge details that immediately make it not work. The alternate universes DO kind of make sense, but require you to extrapolate out a lot of info purposefully left unshown.

It's hard to describe what i want to say, here -- i do think Paul being trans makes sense, 'splains why he & Care "look eeriely similar," you could argue he's just thoroughly blocked out that part of his life enough to have forgotten Care entirely, etc. I like it, & i keep it as i also say "Yeah, it's that & the universes theory." It's not two switches that demand you can only flip on one of them -- you can have both. You can have neither. Do whatever