#IM USING THE TAGGING SYSTEM

[johnskleats]

Also?? Is this a real perspective? Katara being 14 creates a power dynamic between the cannon couple that's balanced out by the fact he's a tantrum-throwing supernova? Really?

[methoughtsphantom]

Jason “my family doesn’t know im alive” Todd and Danny “my family doesn’t know I’m dead” Fenton going alongside each of their plans my beloved. like Danny will absolutely go head-to-head with all of Gotham to support his new best friend on all his crime lord endeavors while he drags Jason to also attend collage with him. They are roommates and there never seems to a mention of family from either side. It’s an unspoken understanding they have. They met because Crime alley as a ghost lair thrummed with so much loneliness, it was at first the perfect place for Danny to hide his ecto signature in. But then he saw the dumbass whose lair it was lean his motorcycle just a tad too much when making a sharp turn to an alley, he sweeped the floor through a lifted chain link that passed his body but not his helmet. Yep that’s right the red thing got stuck. Danny who at the moment happened to be watching through his window snorted. Much to his horror because if not a ghost that dude could’ve gotten his head flung off.

Still, the scene was ridiculous.

On a whim he irrationally sees the police closing in on the guy and panicked at the thought of the guy using intangibility to free himself so Danny phased them both through his apartment wall and left the guy sprawled in his couch. Jason didn’t freak out but that’s normal when one’s got a concussion, one the guy immediately denied having as Danny laid out the medical supplies. The idiot proceeded to almost flatten four steps to the door with his stubbornness. He also said “I’m asexual” in the most deadpan voice as Danny dropped him back in the couch.

Danny sighed. Clearly though, he’d done so too early in the night because the guy kept trying to go, kept trying to knock Danny out, kept trying to slash him with knifes Danny didn’t know he had stashed. He’d only disarmed the guy from his guns. The visible ones apparently, cause at one point the guy did take out a gun and shoot until the ammo ran out and then teetered the thing like it was an art prop and hit his moon lamp.

Danny "yeah you aren’t officially my friend until you’ve tried to kill me" fenton my guys.

Anyways both keep having the same argument over if Danny technically kidnapped Jason or not. Danny holds the fact that the police at least didn’t see the guy make the ridicule. Jason argued that happened cause he was sporting a concussion. Danny argued he got that after.

Jason at first thinks the guy's a meta, but no. Danny introduces himself, sheepily now that he recognizes this is who the lair he invaded is from. He bandages him and tries to cook for him. If Danny didn’t have ice powers he most certainly would’ve burned the apartment. Jason then proceeds to kick him out of his own kitchen and make them both enchiladas. It’s the most normal both had in a while with another person and the air seems oddly settled. From then on, Jason constantly invited himself over, under the pretense that this was his territory and therefore he could drop in unannounced. Danny who has actual powers says he only allows this because Jason cooks very well.

Danny stays away from the crime fighting business unless his buddy is in deep shit he can’t get himself out. Also it’s Danny’s turn to cover for his vigilante friend which Sam and Tucker give him so much shit for. (but also advice)

And they were roommates. (omg) Danny effectively derails Jason’s big comeback plans by casually dropping ghost lore every two days. Like,

Jason, talking about how he doesn’t want Bats snooping on his territory:

Danny: Just don’t let them in

Jason: ??

Danny: yeah!! Hasn’t Batman died and got revived??? You can totally kick out death touched people you don’t want entering on your lair.

Jason: …I can?

Danny: Yep dude, your lair’s supposed to feel safe.

Jason: wait does that mean I can kick you out?

Danny: First this is my apartment. Second, im dead, not dead touched. Third, it’s too late to get rid of me. bitch.

Anyways Jason is super excited. You mean to tell him he can actually deny people over to his territory haunt?? (Yes it’s only to people who have died and came back but still!! The sample size is exactly the type of people he doesn’t want to see—!)

Joker my beloathed can’t step foot in Crime Alley.

(Jason’d feel a lot safer if the clown was dead but the possibility of his murderer turning into a ghost and their little loophole not applying on the clown is too scary to contemplate.)

Anyways, Jason loves experimenting with the power. It can go from simply making people shudder and not want to enter crime Alley to straight up not letting them enter like there’s an invisible wall blocking the way.

Jason because he’s hurt that Bruce never even patrols Crime Alley and also because he’s petty put B under the category of “invisible wall” blacklist. His reasoning is that the man doesn’t even attempt to enter Crime Alley. To him it’s surely just a place shadowed in tragedy. (anyways that’s it’s the place he met Jason)

Ironically, Jason totally forgets that Batman does venture into Crime Alley one day in the whole year. The day he met Jason.

Okay. He didn’t forget at first. The first year Jason remembers cause it was only a few months till then but then the next— Jason forgets that today’s the anniversary of the day’s Bruce’s parents died. He forgets to allow B in when he feels a slight tug and dismiss the feeling that prompts Bruce to investigate because he literally can’t enter Crime Alley. He starts the trialsTM, he scouts on the very edge and sees people the whole day enter and get out and cross with no problem but Bruce can’t.

It’s literally just Bruce.

Time to call Constantine, i guess.

[thepatchworksys]

i guess this one might be controversial but can we like .. stop normalizing completely ignoring and shunning new headmates? im getting really irritated every time i see posts that talk about running into a new headmate and immediately ditching them because you dont care. i get that sometimes people are busy or tired but i feel like you should at least come back later, try a little bit.. even if your system has shared memories! it really doesnt feel good to be new to the world, be seen for the very first time, have them go "im not dealing with you" and leave.

This post is not radqueer safe.

[mothids]

ohhh my god are you kidding me ?!?! I didn’t know Thornback had any social media except for ao3…. I have never used tumblr before but i might have to start , so many people i admire exclusively post on here !!! Some of my Full of Mettle doodles from over the years :)

[deltoradecay]

Being median is funny. I'm not a singlet and not multiple, but a secret third thing. Who am I? Depends on the day but when it comes down to it, I'm me. Who's that? Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy. I'm people soup. A coin with two sides, but still a coin.

[possessed-pack]

Okay but will there actually come a day where anti-endos stop being ableist while also accusing others of being ableist? You can't preach that you're "protecting victims" while also sitting there being all "endos/those who support them are delusional!!". Psychosis is not your tool for hate, and psychotic people are no lesser than anyone else and do not deserve to be used to discredit other peoples experiences that you simply don't understand. Traumagenic DID systems who support endos exist, but you hate those too--what happened to protecting "actual trauma survivors"? You are not protecting disabled people, you are using them as a tool to explain your hatred for things you don't care to understand.

[neetily]

request: whitney degrading+fucking a pc with no self esteem

this is such a perfect request for me THANK YOU for allowing me to indulge a little <3 also this one gets quite mean so like... if you're sensitive, please only read it when/if you're in the right state of mind! (not that i think this is horribly offensive but like... be aware of your own limits please!)

warnings: degradation, public sex, name calling (slut, whore, mutt), references to your dad, photo taking, anal, bullying, spanking, slight whump??? not really. wc: 2,016

"Gross."

The word comes to him so easily, spat out with such honest vitriol that even he's a little surprised with himself. Because he truly fucking believes it. Believes that you're so fucking gross, a disgusting little girl with next to no self esteem— so little, in fact, that you're allowing him of all people to abuse you in the wide open like this, balls deep in your stupid little hole with the flashing camera lights surely leaving you dazzled in the daytime.

You couldn't have picked worse, really.

"Stupid mutt," he follows up with just as much hatred for you, making sure you know exactly where you deserve to be my applying extra pressure to your upper back, intending on forcing your pretty face further against the dirty ground for your own perverse delusions. Face down and ass up, as all dumb dogs should be positioned, he thinks. And to be honest, he thinks that maybe even this position is a little too high and mighty for you. Like the literal dusty ground is too good for you to get fucked upon. Filthy fucking girl. And what's worse is that he knows you'd agree with him. Can't see how truly fucking pretty you really are, begging him like some sort of sentient toy to use you like the slut you are. "S'all you're good for, ain't it?" he smiles at the cameras before him, making sure to punctuate your depravity with a particularly rough thrust forward, humping you closer to the ground just to hear you make those pathetic stupid whines some more. It makes for good cinema, don't you think?

But it's difficult for him to deny your sadistic ways when you feel so fucking good too, in spite of his rude words. Only nasty girls get off so well to being bullied, right? Daddy didn't love you properly, did he? Faux pouting down at you to mock your own that he's absolutely fucking certain you're currently wearing, evident from the high pitched sounds that tumble out of your dirt covered lips. And the way you squirm and jolt on the end of his fat tip, fucking fast and slick into your too tight little asshole because sluts like you aren't worth a proper fucking, is all too tempting to ignore. The bright lights that flash before you certainly can't ignore your pitiful sounds of disgusting enjoyment either, capturing every sleazy detail of your sick and twisted pleasure as he defiles you from behind— you don't deserve to look at him, fucking slut.

Because you're but a mere toy for him. A simple object of desire, something for him to stick his dick into only to soon after forget about. It's what you wanted, isn't it? To be used and nothing else, a dark chuckle creeping past his lips with a click of his tongue at the thought. "Takin' abuse so well," like you were made for it, to be honest. Brought up on such an awful Earth purely to serve as a toy for him, the claw marks in the dirt below you catching his eye for a brief moment before his own nails dig into the fat of your hips and he huffs in annoyance. "Quit tryna run, know y'like this— deserve this, dont'cha?" he taunts you from above, keeping up the brutal pace to inevitably fuck you forward some more, just to place more blame on you for his own awful actions. Heavy balls slapping against your surely sore little cunt in rhythm with his fucks; bet you wish he was inside of it sooooo bad, huh? Wish he was creaming your pretty little pussy instead, making her all puffy and wet with the pre that spills from your tight ass— fuuuuck, and tight it is. Convulsing around his cock as if begging for a break, but the cameras just won't stop. Forced into your stupid sobbing face as you babble nonsense for him, all pretty and high pitched and fucking cute.

"C'mon," he bullies you some more, almost as bad as his cock bullies his imprint against your insides, girth splitting you in two at 12pm on a Sunday. Ridiculous, aren't you? "Tell me, tell the camera you deserve this—" he rudely prompts you, roughly grabbing at your hair to tug your face upwards for the money shot, snot and tears and dirt and all in the glory of the shutter sounds that surround you. Displaying your downright dirty nature on show for all the gawk and laugh at, all while he fucks his cock deeper into your top hole. Because that's all you will ever be to him— just a series of holes for him to fill.

For him to ruin, truth be told. A sickeningly sweet squelch filling the park to rival your own silly sounds, desperate for the depraved attention of not only your apparent adoring fans snapping every single second of your debauchery, but from him, too. Snapping his hips up eagerly against your ass, prompting you into bouncing back against his fucks with every unfair thrust forward. As if fucking you toward the camera, if not for the way his greedy paws pull you right back against him to meet his every thrust. Like the worlds noisiest pocket pussy, submitting to him, fucking back against him, making an absolute show of yourself for him. Like, he knew that your self esteem must have to be pretty low to come begging to him alone to feel good, but to enjoy this whole ordeal on top of things? To actively want him to abuse you in front of God knows how many viewers—live chat must be popping off about now, huh?—to show the whole world for all he cares exactly who you belong to and how fucking gross you are deep down in the perverted little unloved mind; you must be fucked in the head.

Which is probably what makes you so fun to play with, and so satisfying to abuse.

Because you're so receptive to it, crying over nothing like you understand intrinsically that you don't even deserve this kind of treatment. Scum like you? Nah, anal is too good for a whore like this. Begging and sputtering against the hard ground as he dribbles precum in your stretched out hole. Gaping for his fat cock aren't you? Useless beyond this one fact— you can at least take cock pretty well, even if you slobber all over yourself like some kind of bitch in heat.

Fuck, but ain't that hot to think about? Getting your tight asshole fucked raw from behind like a fucking dog, begging for a mounting because you can't do anything else right in your pathetic fucking life. Stupid slut, it's not your fault that you're incapable of anything besides laying there and fucking taking it. Poor mutt, you were just made to take a beating, weren't you? That's all the purpose you've got in your sad excuse of a life, isn't it? Writhing on the literal ground for more of his greedy cock as he suddenly lets go of his grip on your hair, smiling to himself at the way you immediately face plant with an obviously pained sob. The sound of which is like music to his ears, causing his cock to twitch with sheer desperate need to prove to you just how pointless your existence is beyond that of serving him, playing the sordid role of his own personal use toy.

Not that he hears you complaining as such, besides for the fact that your chubby cheeks now surely sting from kissing the gravel so harshly. But he bets you look real pretty with little stone indents and red scratches covering your stupid face, the thought of which has his hips faltering with the promise of marking you up some more. A sick little reminder of all that you're good for, though temporary for now, he'd like to leave a permanent stain of himself on your meagre existence soon enough.

But for now, a couple spanks will suffice. More pain than pleasure he's fucking sure, given how loudly you yelp and attempt to crawl away from his unfair smacks against your already used and abused ass. Hot red streaks of his fingers span across your cheeks, and he can't help but to furrow his brows and huff with affection at how well you wear his hands. Almost as if... It were pretty, which could never be the case for some mutt like you, right? Tears staining the dirt darker, unable to stop riding the fat cock that's currently humping your sore little hole raw— poor thing... You're weird, the lack of self respect as you display exactly just how much you're worth (which is very little, if anything at all) is disgusting. The way you whine and cry for something behind incoherent moans and gasps is awful, and he fucking hates just how nauseatingly obsessed he is with pushing you further down the dark depressive hole of your own self hatred. Addicted to the way you can't get enough of his tutting tone, or his grabby hands, or how he does nothing but mistreat your pretty little body.

Simply because you deserve it.

And it's as you let out a dumb little please; for what? He's not entirely sure. Doesn't think he cares too much either. But it's that single, pitiful plead for something that does him in. Like you're relying solely on him to give you purpose, which is a stupid fucking idea if you haven't noticed by now. Selfishly seeking his own high with stuttering hips and fast fucks, unprecise in his seeking of pleasure, but nonetheless offering you some more mishandling by placing a foul hand on the back of your head and shoving it down to shut you up for once today.

He doesn't even give you the enjoyment of hearing him moan your name as his orgasm arrives, instead spitting expletives down at you as he empties his balls inside of your thoroughly fucked open asshole. Filling you up with seed as some form of reward for not only debasing yourself in front of his friends, but for somehow relishing in the limelight too. That, and for offering him prime wank material later on tonight, his phone already buzzing with plenty sent images and videos of how truly fucking weird and icky you are.

Nothing stops him from continuing to fuck your tight ass as he's spilling seed either, not even the way you swat at his iron grip on your hips or your useless cries for a break. Continuing to fuck his fat load as deep as he can into you despite your protests, in the selfish hope that it'll drip out of you all day long to remind you of what a filthy fucking slut you truly are. That you're worth less than a proper fuck, unable to sit down fully until tomorrow where he'll just have to remind you again. Stretched little asshole twitching around him when he finally settles into a slow pace just before pulling out of you in one swift motion, a string of cum leaving him connected to you as you collapse the ground by his feet in a heap and he finally feels like he can breathe again with a heavy sigh.

"Gross." He repeats his earlier sentiments, wincing at the way you shudder and groan from his rotten abuse. Left in a puddle of fluids of your own making— you look awful. And he kinda loves it. Kinda hates how much he loves it, actually.

So with a final look at the ball you've turned into, all red and teary and rightfully pained, he's sure to give you a final nudge with his foot to make sure you're still alive and kicking. If only to secure you for tomorrows mistreatment too. And the day after. And the day after. And the day after— as long as it takes to fully fucking break you into the perfect little subservient slave.

Because you're no use to him otherwise.

[mothwithapencil]

Alright gang what do we think about The Decepticule

[lambouillet]

silly little jester !

[itscherryterry-again]

had a thought

[snoozerin]

thinking abt canpru dumbshit again

[thatfaerieprincess]

WATCHED C3e99 DOWNFALL PART 1 AND UHHH I HAVENT DRAWN FAN ART IN YEARS BUT THE MUSE REALLY SPOKE TO ME THIS TIME

Step 2 figure out how the Emissary actually looks

[adelineivy]

a quick timber hearth i did a little while ago ::> i think its time for either a redo of this or like ... giants deep 💥

[theredcuyo]

Had a funny idea

Imagine Lbh, Wwx and Hc as sibblings (adopted or just by Word)

Imagine Wwx is in Ghost city after he died, and he's thinking what to get his bros for their birthdays, problem is, he knows there's only one thing they could possibly really want

But how does he do that? So he gets down to work, and remembering how things like inquiry worked, plus how he made the compass, he creates a way to track specific souls after a while

It isn't perfect, and he needs to know how they looked like, and something related to them as people, but lucky for him his brothers are obssesed got it covered (it was harder to get to this things than to make the compass)

Weird thing is... He found two signals for his older brother's Master?

Oh well, the method isn't perfect anyways, it probably is the one that's far away, wouldn't make sense for Binghe not to have found him yet if he was there in Ghost city

Also why is a god's signal so weak? And it dissapears and reapears a lot

Anyway, he goes off into the wild, Binghe's birthday is first, so there he goes

And he finds a pile of dirt, but while he's staring at it, it starts to move and something, someone comes out of it

Oh... Oh well, that works too

Sqq was scared shitless when he met Wwx

Maybe first impressions are important actually, so when he goes to find the other one, he's trying his best to be presentable, Hong-er surely talks about how refined and elegant the martial god is

And then the compass points him to a guy collecting trash and eating a bun that he picked up from the floor

Xie Lian thinks Wwx is a very nice fella, and definitely not a ghost that needs to be exorcised

[peachyfnaf]

i havent drawn these two in a hot second so. my favorite gay people :) this piece is named 'emergency gay people' bc i listened to a song that reminded me of them and damn it really Was an emergency to draw em kjdfhsdfdgf

[solariex]

someone save me from the idiots ive been stuck with for 5+ years...