#and then he had to fucking talk to me

[artkaninchenbau]

A h-heartfelt reunion..?

Bonus

[thecmaly]

really? right in front of my karaage?

-

more windbreaker comics

[senxitive]

Not to be dramatic, but life is cruel.

[wild0moon]

i bring you: my casual clothes tankman design (and steve too) i am so normal about found family tankdad

happy pride month lol

[lucabyte]

i feel like people are sleeping on the occam's razor situation of how buckwild it is to outright accuse a guy of being a clone of your friend even if you DO have a lot of circumstantial evidence. there's other options is what im saying. they could just be like. a guy. that's a sensible deduction. you should explore that deduction. ignore my shirt that reads I <3 RED HERRINGS.

i still think odile has the correct theory on lock but she's smart enough to know it needs like... a real smoking gun to be able to bring it up without sounding insane.

anyway. (mirabelle voice) i know its rude to speculate but has anyone else noticed the grieving? they seem to be grieving. does anyone have any thoughts on the grieving? i have some thoughts on the grieving.

[muzsmocsing]

Svsss is the funniest book ever written and I'm tired of pretending it's not

Chapter 17 is a ride. Shen Qingqiu's non-threesome fiasco was fantastic. But while all that was happening Liu Qingge was on a whole Liam Neeson Taken journey and we need to discuss that because I can't fucking breathe:

Luo Binghe kidnaps Shen Qingqiu, Liu Qingge goes "count your days bitch", powers up to the max and singlehandedly massacres his territory.

He doesn't find his beloved frenemy coworker there but he runs into Shang Qinghua. He's about to interrogate him in the only language he's fluent in (violence) but he doesn't even get to raise a fist before he frantically spills every last detail of Shen Qingqiu's whereabouts.

After he's satisfied he's like "Nice. I shall strangle the traitor now." But the guy just falls on his knees?? And clings to Liu Qingge's thigh and just starts sobbing?? Gets snot all over his robes???

Before he can put an end to that mess, PLOT TWIST apparently Shang Qinghua has domesticated Mobei-jun while no one was looking?? All the crying and the clapping of his asscheeks alerts the demon that something's up and he comes do defend his pet hamster.

It's kind of a holdup on the rescue mission but they fight and they fully level half of Luo Binghe's crib in the process.

After that, he gets to the southern border. Fights some disgusting blood clot animals and successfully snatches his shixiong back, time for quality quiet time together! Perhaps some sparring!

But NO. The mission is too successful and got an unfortunate add-on: the weirdo bitch who slept with Shen Qingqiu's corpse for 5 YEARS came along??? The one he battled for just as long to get it back??? And now they're attached??? And trust each other???

Too tired to fight this reality he watches as the demon bastard peacefully naps on Shen Qingqiu's shoulder. Grinding his teeth.

ALL THIS IN THREE (3) PAGES.

[royaltea000]

I love Bai Long Ma he truly don’t gaf

[mamawasatesttube]

what WERE tim and kon doing in that closet together that made kon have to get dressed afterwards anyway? wrong answers only. i'll start i think they were playing two person strip poker but tim cheated like a motherfucker. actually wait that doesn't make this sound any less gay. um. hold on. there's gotta be something. um

[into-the-clintoris]

Well today I learned it's impossible to prank call an improv comedian because they'll just yes and you.

[wienners]

"dude its not that embarassing to rewatch some creepypasta stuff you liked as a teenager" the character i imprinted on like a baby duck at 16 was a demon from new jersey that acts like the humanization of every offspring song and canonically listens to scissor sisters. His favorite color is purple and his favorite pokemon are gengar and haunter. He leaves people notes with emojis on them. He acts like a beetlejuice scare actor at halloween horror nights. His catchphrase is "feeling sassy?" Hes (allegedly) worked with every war criminal throughout history and been every serial killer. even the gay ones. He ate a baby. His animal motif is a rabbit. Hes kind of based off the donnie darko rabbit. He almost exclusively wears merchandise of the quentin tarantino movie death proof. He talks to his cats in a baby voice. He wears a white fedora that makes every video he wears it in feel dated by like 7 years. Hes 5'3. Hes from new jersey. He hacked a girls tumblr blog so he could post about how awesome he is. He added a laugh track over a video of him killing people. He named a chainsaw rex. He torments people by playing frank sinatra at them. His name comes from an animal collective song. His creator drew his "true form" as a giant buff wolf bug anthro. Theres a (semi)canon blog entry where he makes the speakers blare rob zombie before he enters a room, then holds a guy at gunpoint to describe what he did to to him while "making sure to leave in all the cool parts". The guy hes possessing has radioactive blood. He tried for 2 whole minutes to pick up a bottle of ketchup with a grabby hand. Hes kind of suicidal.He can be reasonably compared to pretty much every major tumblr sexyman. His actor has gone on record saying heath ledgers joker inspired his acting choices. His creators were too attached to him to permanently kill him at the end of the series. Sometimes his voice gets distorted and it makes him sound like bill ciphers first year on HRT. Hes basically like my artistic muse. For some fucking reason i associate the song cake by the ocean with him. I firmly believe that if everymanhybrid didn't require a masters degree in creepypasta autism to comprehend, he would've caused more teenage stabbings than the slenderman incident and more kin war tumblr scenarios than nagito komaeda.

[paiigemahoney]

Bobby Nash in 8x04

[acedavestrider]

i dont think gerard talking about his bag of knives before sleep was funny silly or quirky i think it was a very real look at how he handled/is currently handling the grief he feels about his friend dying. something about wishing someone would come and hurt you so you have an excuse to kill them is like very... its grief thats so intense and violent it makes you wish you could project it onto someone else. anyways.

[peace-hunter]

tfone au where OP is created as the last of the primes but way after them, a sparkling born at what were thought to be the last days of the war against the quintessons, the beginning of a new generation of peace after eons of war. a child meant to be loved and raised knowing nothing of war nor sacrifice.

he's kept mostly out of the spotlight by his siblings, who don't wish to expose him to everyone's optics so young, and want to wait until the war is done and over to properly introduce him to their people.

except of course the primes are betrayed and murdered by sentinel, the war is lost and everyone who knows and cared for the truth is either banished or outright killed in order to suppress it.

and the high guard, the ones the primes trusted the most, the ones that were supposed to protect them, the ones who failed in their most important duty, have to make a choice. to take the last prime, their last hope, with them to the surface, a hostile environment where there's little to no supplies and where they'll be hunted down by both sentinel and the quintessons as the biggest threat to their regimen.

or hide him in plain sight. place him where sentinel won't think to look for him. one more sparkling among many. and hope it will be enough to keep him alive. pray to primus that he'll protect his last child long enough for them to come back for him when it's safer (even if most of them have already lost their faith on him when he allowed the rest of his children to be massacred like that)

they almost lose their resolve when they realize they will have to take the little one's cog away in order to make him blend in with the rest of the newborns (and oh do they burn with murderous intent when they see what sentinel has done to their people but it's not the time yet-) but in the end they decide an impaired little prime is better than a dead one.

and so in the chaos of thirteen dead primes and a sudden energon crisis, a little sparkling who very few mechs really knew about and even fewer had seen completely vanishes. and in the depths of iacon a mech in charge of a new batch of newborns scratches their helm in confusion as they realize they must have miscounted the first time.

optimus prime is quietly erased from any official records by sentinel, written off as dead when they find a sparkling's frame mangled beyond recognition after an attack on the base of those rebels that insist on being a thorn on his side. killing the sparkling hadn't been precisely in his plans, he probably could've found some use for it after all, but he's not particularly upset about it either.

and orion pax grows up with an ache on his spark that tells him he's missing something far more important than a t-cog and dreams of gentle and loving hands, cradling him against the frames of mechs he cannot recall the faces of.

[uncanny-tranny]

Hey, if you have speech impediments, you are so amazing.

If you stutter or have a lisp or misspeak easily or you have a flat affect or a limited verbal vocabulary or if your voice is AAC or if you just have a difference in your vocality, you are so incredibly important and amazing.

Just know that your voice is yours. Nobody will ever be able to truly take it away. Your voice is part of you, and you deserve to make it as true to you as you deem fit. I hope you have the space to grow with your voice and whatever about it makes it unique.

[risetherivermoon]

am i the only one who thinks that Anya wouldn't actually be mad with Curly about what he did. Like I think some part of her deep down is angry about it, that he didn't help her like he said he would, but i also don't think she's actively blaming him for it.

I personally believe Curly was at fault for not taking responsibility and doing something about what Jimmy did to her. But i feel like characterization wise she wouldn't uphold him to such a standard, that she'd lose trust in him to an extent, but not enough that she'd hate him. I don't know if I'm explaining this right,

basically I just always feel strange whenever i see people depicting Anya as being resentful towards Curly after the crash, i believe she holds the blame on Jimmy alone, and once Curly has become bedridden and disabled, she focuses on helping him and doing her job. She and him were close friends, enough that she did trust him with the information that Jimmy assaulted her, she still cares.

something about the line: (which she says specifically about Curly) "I have to believe our worst moments don't make us monsters" flying over peoples heads when it comes to her characterization

i do think it's hard to figure out a way to characterize Anya in a light that is justifying, especially since in canon we aren't exactly given a good perspective on her. Curly is the closest we get to that, but he isn't that reliable of a source either when it comes to her (thats a whole other post tho)

but I don't think she'd be hateful, even to someone who has wronged her. I don't think she's weak or small, don't get me wrong, but with the way we are shown how much empathy she has for Curly (with her being unable to give him meds because it makes her nauseous with how it hurts him, and with the quote about Curly's worst moments)...i just dont see it

i can see the appeal of having victims resent and be able to stand up for themselves when it comes to their abusers (in Jimmy's case) and people who supported them, (as in Curly) but I just personally don't see that with Anya. And just because you aren't angry or outwardly standing up to the abuse you go through, doesn't mean that you are weak.

Anya isn't weak, but she's empathetic and in a situation that could only end badly for her. She's also a kind person, and a nurse. I don't think violence or anger are her go-tos

[starry-bi-sky]

Clone^2 - Separation Strikes

"Why do I have to go?" Damian asks, surly and accent-thick, it sounds more like a demand and a whine at the same time. Sitting on the kitchen table with his arms crossed, in a green t-shirt that Danny bought him at a whim when he was at a thrift shop, and black shorts, he's never looked more like a kid. There's a little backpack leaning against the table leg, Damian begrudgingly picked it out when they went shopping.

His English has grown in leaps and bounds since Danny found him -- er, or more accurately; since Damian was spat out in front of him. -- and very little did they have to use the translator on Danny's phone these days.

Which meant one thing: Damian can start attending school comfortably now. And 'go' was the Amity Smiles Child Care Center. Danny and Jazz went as kids until they were twelve, and Mom and Dad actually managed to convince the center director to let Damian enroll for the summer.

And it was summer; Damian starts today.

"Because," Danny says, trying and failing to hide the smile pulling on his face, his heart warm and soft, and also laughing at Damian's expense; "being cooped up in the house all day isn't good for you, and you're starting school in the Fall. And, in Jazz's words: you need to have interactions with other kids your age for the benefit of your social development. And besides, it's only for the morning."

Damian's nose scrunches up, and his eyes roll so violently that for a moment, Danny thinks about joking that he'll get his eyes stuck like that. He holds his tongue; his little brother already looks like he's five seconds away from committing an act of violence.

"I don't need social interaction." Damian sneers, his cheek in his hand; a neverend pool of pride. "I am--"

"The Blood of the Demon Heir, better than everyone else." Danny cuts off, waving his hand in dismissive circles, his voice mockingly deep. Damian's brown skin darkens in embarrassment, and he scowls at Danny. "I know, bud. But Jazz is right, -- don't tell her I said that, -- you should be around kids your age."

Especially when he starts First Grade in the Fall. Honestly -- Danny was a little nervous to send him to the center. Damian's long since cut the habit of trying to kill or otherwise maim people, his palms ache-burn with gentle reminder, but his tongue was as sharp and as cutting as his sword. He still struggles with trying to quell it when he's upset. Vicious child-weapon that he once was, and will never be again.

Danny knows that it comes from a place of fear and defense, that Damian lashes out because that's what he's been taught. That at the end of the day, he doesn't really mean what he says, and he's learning to express himself better. But the other kids don't know that, and kids can be unforgiving and cruel.

Danny just...

His slow beating heart sighs, melancholy settles behind his lungs.

He doesn't want Damian to be outcasted. He doesn't want him to be alone.

Not like he was.

Damian sneers again, but says nothing, his shoulders crawling up to hide his ears like a turtle receding into his shell. Danny watches him silently, leaning against the kitchen counter with his own arms crossed. The clock hanging on the wall ticks in their ears -- it's almost time to go.

He watches Damian, careful, and so he sees it when his little brother's stone-shell pride and petulance shudders, and cracks. The darkened furrow of Damian's brows weakens, and for a moment, slants back.

Ah, Danny thinks, his own shoulders slumping. Epiphany washes over him, and his sad-heart soothes in warm understanding. So that's what it is.

His head tilts, and his hair spills over his shoulders, messy and fluffy, tickling his neck. Some of his bangs fall into his face. "Hal 'ant easabiatan ya habibi?" He asks, voice low and soft. Just as Damian's English has improved, so has Danny's Arabic. He still stumbles over himself some days, and Damian says his accent is trash, but they can have whole conversations now in Damian's mothertongue.

(Danny was incredibly proud of himself for it.)

Damian's face darkens, his blush spreading across the rest of his face, and he ducks his head down. Grown-out curls, black-brown and springy, falls over his eyes. "La!" He yells, loud and indignant, and not at all convincingly. "La 'asheur bialtawaturi!"

He was nervous. Danny can see it now, in the hunch of his shoulders and the tightness of his face, and faintly, he can feel it too. In the ecto-rich air of the Fentonworks House, it thrums, barely-there, like a hummingbird behind his lungs.

Danny can't stop the little, fond smile that forces itself across his lips and upticks the corner of his mouth. "It's okay to be nervous, little brother." He says, he sounds like Jazz when he says that. He doesn't think she'll mind him borrowing the nickname.

He pushes himself off the counter, and Damian refuses to look at him, hiding behind his hair and in his shoulders. It takes three long strides for him to reach the table, and Danny turns, plants his hands on the ledge, and hoists himself up. Right next to Damian.

Damian leans into him easily when Danny's arm wraps around his shoulders and tucks him close to his heart. He can feel his ear against his ribs. Danny hunches over him, resting his chin on Damian's head. "It's so okay to be nervous, actually. I was nervous, Jazz was nervous." He tells him, scratching the blunt edge of his nails across his scalp. "Everyone gets nervous."

"'Ana last aljumiea." Damian mumbles, as small and feeble as he was the night on the OPS Center balcony, realizing that his mom and the League weren't coming for him. Realizing that he was replaceable.

Danny's half-working heart squeezes; in grief, in rage, and his faucet eyes sting. He breathes in carefully, and presses his nose into Damian's hair in a loving faux-kiss. "You're right, you're not everyone." He says, steady and strong, because if he's not a pillar for his family, who else is he?

He can feel Damian's eyes flick up to him, and Danny smiles into his black-brown curls. Tilts his head to squish his cheek against him instead, hand dropping to thumb below Damian's lashes. "You're Damian Fenton," Because the adoption went through a few weeks ago, and he's still riding that high, "You're my baby brother. O' Artist Extraordinaire, Kickass with a Sword, Vegetarian and Wonderful Co-Ghost Hunter."

Damian tries to stifle a smile, and fails. Score! Triumph gathers in Danny's gut, his smile grows wider. He squeezes Damian tight, and only releases him so he can look him in the eyes. "And if anyone gives you a hard time at school, and I mean anyone--"

Danny has bad memories of the teachers looking the other way when the other kids were bullying him, all because he was a Fenton.

And Danny, bleeding heart, bleeding hands, loves his family more than he will ever love himself, will never let Damian experience the same injustice. Not if he can help it.

His eyes narrow, and the buzzy-film of ectoplasm covers his eyes, making them glow, "--You tell me. And as your awesome great big brother-and-technically-dad-but-only-biologically, I will handle it."

Damian, wonderfully made, full of light, his little brother Damian, giggles weakly at him. A sound that's worth it's weight in gold. The scary eyes dissipate, and Danny matches the sound with a cock-eyed, impish grin, dragging Damian into a soul-crushing, too-tight hug. The kind that only annoying older brothers can give. "Got it?"

That gets a proper, if short, laugh out of Damian. He wriggles in Danny's arms, trying to break free. But Danny does calisthenics, his arms are as big as Damian's head, so it doesn't work. "Understood, now, daeni 'adhhab ya 'akhi!"

Danny laughs, loud and bright, and loosens his hold just a smidge, only so he can adjust his grip and hop off the table with Damian still in arm.

"Never!" He crows, hoisting Damian slightly. One eye flick at the clock, and in one quick move, he secures Damian under one arm like a football, and hooks his foot under the strap of his backpack. Kicking it up, he tosses it into the air and catches it with his free hand, and slings it over his shoulder. "Now, to the car, my boy! Before we're late and Mom and Dad get charged."

Damian groans, childish and dramatic and long, but his face is all squished up with a wide grin and glee. Danny can taste his joy beneath his tongue.

"And, if my little pep talk didn't encourage you," He says, reaching the door to the garage, flipping Damian up onto his hip instead. "If you have a good day today, I'll make you bal mithai when you get back."

Like all kids at the promise of sweets, Damian's eyes widen and glitter. Danny loves seeing Damian be a kid, it's his favorite thing in the world. "I will!"