#at this point there are two options

[acultforteenswithtrauma]

just finished young justice: season four and I’m back on my “wally is alive! and if you disagree, you can fucking fight me!” bullshit!!!!🤪✌️

[jontaro-kun]

That one time a pose study (looking at art of pretty women and telling myself I was being productive) turned into Portia

[incarceratedcastiel]

the thing is the existence of the widower arc necessitated a conclusion in which castiel is rescued because previous experience suggests dean would not want to live without cas. that was already demonstrated onscreen?????????

[strawberryteabunny]

today’s coord to run errands 🐇💗

I also got to see the mag mile tulips in bloom and try a new bubble tea/poke place that opened near me! ໒꒰ྀི∗ɞ̴̶̷ ·̮ ɞ̴̶̷∗꒱ྀིა ⑅˚˖ ♥︎🧋

coord rundown:

JSK: Angelic Pretty Shoulder Ribbon JSK (Summer 2002)

apron, cardigan: BTSSB

blouse, socks: AP

I forgot to include my headdress in this but just wore a pink + white ribbon/lace rectangle headdress! oops ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა

[uncanny-tranny]

I love (sarcasm) that the two options for working when disabled are:

1. Work at the risk of (permanently) disabling yourself further. Go home to a paycheck that won't cover much, but at least you have money. Fight the urge to cry when you're home because you're in so much pain and you can't do basic things anymore

2. Don't work. You'll be in just as much pain, plus you will have even less money. Getting a disability check probably won't cover anything, but chin up! A single dollar is better than no dollar, right?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Nobody should be forced to make the decision to work or starve, but there's an added layer of torture when your body literally cannot handle these options. My heart goes out to us all, the world can change for the better

[virtues-end]

loved the update!!

question: what does picking the “lustful” interest option entail?

does it mean that mc can never fully be in a relationship with that RO, ( as in, it’s always going to be just casual) or can MC change their “mindset” later on and start a serious relationship?

It mostly changes the nature of the relationship/the flavour text you'll see, and potentially some of the available choices.

You could say that the romantic branch focuses more on the emotional side of things while the lustful route tends to highlight the main character's desirous impulses more (as well as the physical aspect of it). That's not to say you can't still have something deeper or meaningful, it's just... different!

And no, you won't be completely locked in once you've picked one, you can still change things later on. :-)

[inafieldofdaisies]

OC Picrew | link | Tags under the cut

Featured: Deputy Sabrina Donovan / Mercedes "Mercy" Sibley Eloise "Lou" Morello / Oakley Moore

Ship Picrew | link | Tagged by @lilywatt and @roofgeese

Featured: Calahan x Mary May / Eloise x Staci

Tagging, @socially-awkward-skeleton @derelictheretic @neonshrike @imogenkol

@cassietrn @strangefable @voidika @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather

@trench-rot @purplehairsecretlair @theelderhazelnut

@raresvtm @simonxriley @cloudofbutterflies92 @killyourrdarlingss @direwombat

@g0dspeeed @la-grosse-patate @shellibisshe @aceghosts

@elligatorrex @mkdecimation @carlosoliveiraa and anyone that would like to do the tag 🤍

[angeldaisies]

one thing that keeps me up at night about twp is the very real possibility that the shadowhunters might stop being shadowhunters in the last book

[friendlylocalwhumper]

The Cycle series in chronological order (pts.1-27) | Breaking Point (pt.27)

The cage is meant to be humiliating. The muzzle, the blindfold, interlocking so that only Major’s nose is visible, and it is huffing out breaths sluggishly. Simon’s been bitterly refusing to feed Major more than necessary to keep him alive, without regret.

But something is off about the man curled up on his side, skin more black and blue than not. The way he doesn’t stir when Simon walks into the living room. The deliberate, slow breaths, nostrils flaring with the effort of each one.

The crate door swings open without resistance. Even laying a hand on one scar-thick shoulder doesn’t stir Cupcake aside from the instinctive flinch from touch he couldn’t see coming. Good, he should flinch. After what he did to Simon.

He lays his hand on that shoulder a while, thinking. Cupcake is too warm. Despite the heat he’s giving off, faint shivers course through him, only visible now that he’s being watched up close.

A fever again. The last time, it didn’t look quite this bad. Maybe it’s the daily beatings making him look so ragged, though. Without a word - he doesn’t need to ask for permission or feedback, Cupcake is a pet - Simon hooks his hands under Cupcake’s upper arms and hauls him out. Drops him to the floor and scoffs at the pitiful groan that is punched out with the collapse.

“Move.” The order comes out in a voice that doesn’t entirely sound like his own. Simon’s been struggling to accept his reflection, lately - he’s sounding more and more like the voice that rings in his ears when the insomnia gets bad.

On command, Major sets his arms and legs into position - elbows braced against the floor, knees too - and he begins crawling. He will go forward, and when a shin nudges his side to redirect him, he will follow the cue. His head hangs low; by now, his brown curls have grown out enough that when he hangs his head low enough, they almost brush across the carpet.

Every single time that guilt needles at his heart, Simon’s senses are flooded. He can feel the carpet under his fingers, taste blood dripping down his throat from his nose, feel the burning of tears trying to spill. He can feel the weight of the metal muzzle and he can see Major standing over him, chest heaving triumphantly, vindictive glee in his eyes.

The thought sends his leg jerking out to kick Cupcake in the side. The blindfolded pet whimpers sharply in surprise and lurches to a stop, unsure of what he did wrong. Then he seems to decide that he’ll be stopped if there’s something to pay for, and otherwise he should keep moving. Forward he crawls again.

He is led to the bathroom. The beaten body hesitates as soon as his fingertips meet cool tile. It takes an insistent nudge to his ankle for him to enter and slow to a stop, shifting to sit on one folded leg and keep the other awkwardly bent to the side.

The water starts pouring in the tub - the clanking of the pipes and first crashing of the eager water sets Cupcake flinching again, hands rising in an instinct to defend. They get smacked down impatiently and the pet wilts, embarrassed. Or maybe exhausted.

Simon slides the back of his hand across the top of the blindfold to feel at the top half of the forehead. Hot for sure. Cupcake holds especially still. He barely breathes until Simon steps away again to check on the tub.

“Clothes off.”

Cupcake swallows. Moves almost immediately, shifting his weight onto his palms to unfold his legs and start to work on the button of his jeans. They’re loose, nowadays. They slide off without much difficulty, except for the strenuous effort it takes to gently pull them off over a swollen ankle and the ever-throbbing bullet wounds. The boxers come off, too, without a sound of complaint.

The water is high enough. Simon shuts it off and turns around to find that Major has slumped down to lie on his side again, cheek pressed to the cold tile floor. His breaths are still desperate and slow.

With an annoying surge of concern, thorny as it may be, Simon crouches and roughly unbuckles the back of the muzzle. It is pulled from the knotted curls back there, and suddenly Cupcake is breathing louder. Panting blindly with his fingers twitching in the interest of reaching up to scratch his face, and in fear of being punished for trying.

It is not hard to heave the feverish body up to the edge of the tub. Cupcake balks, though, when he is guided to stand and his foot lands in the water. It is not hot, but cold. Very cold.

Cupcake resists all the way down. Although Simon is aware that he can’t stop his body resisting. That he’s barely present at all. An awful, tiny gasp falls from his lips as he is lowered fully, and Cupcake’s whole body folds up to try to conserve as much heat as possible.

The sounds are getting to him right now. Simon grits his teeth and pushes down on Cupcake’s shoulder to get him better submerged. Chill some of the fever out of him.

That is when the sounds start to get worse. Instead of occasional soft, instinctive grunts and gasps, it is a steady stream of almost inaudible weeping. That’s new, something Major’s never done here. Not when Simon’s been around to hear it, anyway. His shoulders hitch with ragged gasps, his body slides lower until his chin makes ripples at the surface.

“Wha’d I do?” Warbles out the miserably shivering man. Simon sets his jaw with anger at him daring to speak.

“What?”

Cupcake sniffles pathetically. It looks strange to see such a heavily scarred, once-muscular man sniffling. “T’ be in here.”

He thinks the cold water is a punishment. It must feel like ice against his feverish skin. Simon shakes his head. “If you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you.”

By the time he’s hauling Cupcake back out of the tub, the pet is quaking with exhaustion. His shivers haven’t died down. Those curls hang in sopping waves, dripping onto his shoulders and making the tremors worse.

He’s dropped onto his knees and abandoned as Simon leans over the edge of the bathtub and pulls up the drain, grimacing at the disgusting thought of plunging his arm into Cupcake-water.

Simon doesn’t notice the lack of weight on his hip holster until he hears a metallic click behind him. Horror flashes hot and bright in his gut as he spins on his heel, expecting to see the gun aimed at his core.

Major instead has the muzzle pressed to his own temple. Blindfolded, mouth hanging open to suck down air greedily, dripping and nude, he looks like some kind of grisly painting.

“Remy,” He croaks, the first time he’s spoken in ages without it being directed at Simon. “Kenzo…” That name is cracked in the middle, pitched with despair. And then he pulls the trigger.

The dull click of the hammer striking, but no bullet exploding into motion, is an instant relief to Simon. Of course he knows that he hasn’t kept that gun loaded in weeks, he knows that the threat of it has been enough to keep Major squarely in line - but he forgot, in his moment of panic, when he thought he was about to die.

Cupcake doesn’t seem to know that he is still alive. The gun is still clutched to his head, his chest still as he holds his breath.

Simon steps forward hesitantly. Watches Cupcake to try to gauge how he’ll react when he takes his next breath and realizes that the gun wasn’t loaded.

His fingers carefully wrap over Major’s to take the gun away.

That touch seems to startle Cupcake into awareness. With a choked sound of emotion, he rips the gun away from his master’s hold and moves suddenly. Despite his knowledge that it cannot be used to shoot him, Simon’s survival instinct sends him staggering off to the side to avoid a bullet.

Instead of trying to shoot the gun, though, Major slams it into his own head. Pistol-whipping himself harder than anyone else could, Cupcake drives the butt of that gun into the side and top of his head, gritting his teeth and punching pained, panicked grunts out of himself.

“Hey, woah, woah, woah…” All thoughts of Major deserving to suffer are wiped from his mind as Simon moves to intervene. It takes tangling himself up with Major completely to finally stop the crashing of the weapon into his skull, and by then there is already blood dripping down around the edges of the blindfold. Watered down in his curls, the red falls into droplets that paint the floor splotchy pink.

Major lies on his back, now, his arms pinned under Simon’s weight and his head wrapped protectively in Simon’s hand. The kept healer hisses out sharp breaths.

“What was that?” Accuses Simon, rattling Major with a violent shake. It feels perfectly fitting to be upset. “What were you trying to do?”

That battered head is shoved to turn to the left, and the buckle of the blindfold is undone. The metal clatters as it is tossed aside.

Major’s eyes are pink, tears smeared across his cheekbones from where they couldn’t escape the blindfold. He blinks wildly for a moment until he can adjust to the bright room. Until they can focus on Simon above him, looking distressed.

“Why would you do that?” Simon interrogates pointlessly, and weighs down more heavily on his pinned pet as Major just shakes his head, speechless. Simon knows why. It has been so dark here, there has been so much fury and punishment and defeat. It used to be easier, it used to be casual… before Major rose up and made the worst mistake of his life, it was better.

The idiotic pet has nothing to say. All he wanted to say was those names, right at what he thought would be his last moment. Now he has nothing to say to Simon. Nothing left that he wants, that he can have.

This has gone too far, Simon thinks, staring straight into Major’s dull eyes. His hair isn’t healthy and soft anymore, his freckles have faded back into nothing, his weight has disappeared. Major used to try to be good. Now he’s just a body stored in a cage. Dragged out to be broken and shoved back in again, every day.

“Come here.” Defeated, almost apologetic, Simon clambers off of Major and scoops him up. The pet whimpers in pain as he is manhandled into a hug that he only endures bonelessly. Simon is warm, though, so warm that Major concedes and presses closer, eyes squeezed shut now that the blindfold has been taken away.

“Touch that gun again, and I will fill you with bullets,” Simon warns sternly. Major looses a tiny sound of understanding. “...Think you can be good, if I don’t put you back in the crate?”

That fever-weak breathing slams to a stop. Major doesn’t know what to do with that, with the promise of his punishment being paused. Or even stopped altogether. It feels like a trap. Feels dangerous to accept, in his current position. Ideas of worse things than being kept in a cage seem to flood his mind. So Simon plants a hand on his back to ground him.

“We’ll sit on the couch. Like before. We’ll get your clothes on first.”

That seems to calm him enough that Major nods numbly.

taglist: @morning-star-whump , @lthrboy, @apokolyps, @paperprinxe , @vampiresprite,

@wollemi-whump, @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees , @whumps-and-bumps , @defire, @notactuallyluska

[chgeeto]

you really wanna see us laughing at your body floating down the river? baby, you’re pathetic.

— Alex G, Kute

[sidesteppostinghours]

I stick with real things, usually facts and figures When information's in its place I minimize the guessing game Guess what? (What?) I don't like guessing games or when I feel things Before I know the feelings

im ngl, like 90% of the reason i drew this was so i could make this

[dykedvonte]

Also it’s insane that Jimmy decided to eat Curly because it couldn’t have been a starvation thing.

From the conversation with Daisuke they had less oxygen left and 4 months of food. And that’s 2 months from AFTER the crash. He could have used any of the leftover food but chose to further torment and torture Curly to feed his ego. It was only him, there’s no way there wasn’t enough. Yes, it was through delusion but he wasn’t completely gone. Perhaps he was suffering from the beginnings of oxygen deprivation along with the stress of what just went down but looking back on it, there was never gonna be a point they had to eat Curly or had the chance.

They all would’ve suffocated first.

[favoritebatfam]

Okay, I can’t be the only one who has a picture in my head of child Bruce being adopted by a fae, and almost stolen.

In my head, Bruce is like 9 or so at the time. I read somewhere that the fae tend to take kids sometimes to raise them or to have them as pets. So I’m imagining this super powerful fae who got attached to a child of like a witch or something, and is raising this kid in this weird in between place between the fae realm and human world.

So the kid probably explores and ends up finding Bruce and befriending him.(Maybe there’s an entrance to that dimension in the cave that becomes the Batcave, and Bruce is exploring.)

So Bruce is unceremoniously adopted by this sort of fae child and it takes a little while for either of their respective adults to notice. The fae notices and is debating whether or not they should take Bruce, but then Alfred notices.

Alfred is British, and the British have so many myths and stories about the fae, so there’s no way Alfred doesn’t become convinced they are about to doom his kid to a life as a slave.(Bonus points if this leads to Alfred having a tiny crisis about being Bruce’s father figure and not wanting to replace his parents)

I’m not 100% sure about the rest of the au, but I can clearly picture in my head the fae kid sitting with Bruce at a table, eating cookies, while Alfred and the Fae being have a ‘conversation’(I’m imagining that thing where character a is oblivious to character b and character c having a full out brawl.) Bruce and the Fae kid eat cookies while their respective guardians duke it out.

Years later, Bruce is asked by the kids about the iron brass knuckles in the cave, covered with something.

[canisalbus]

I noticed you've been making more art of Machete and Vasco after they met again as adults - is this canon? Do they get to rekindle their friendship after all, or is it still brief and bittersweet? (I love your characters and art, btw!)

Thank you! I'm glad you like them!

It's canon, I believe. After their confusing and apprehensive friends-to-lovers involvement ended in their early 20's, their paths end up crossing again unexpectedly in their mid 30's and things gradually grow from there.

[queenlucythevaliant]

So... since clearly Jack never makes continuity errors, tell me your theory on what happened to Reepicheep between PC and VDT.

[simplydnp]

char. realisation moment. the daniel song tiktok was posted all the way back in 2022. which means either 1. phil saved it for dan aall this time or 2. (most likely) a song of a different name came up on his for you page so he went onto the account specifically to find and save the daniel song just to show dan.........

this is the exact thing i want all of you to send to my inbox. what a beautiful rabbit hole you've fallen down anon, and thank you for taking me with you because now i'm going to stare at the ceiling and think about this for a week