#but i probably should use it more

[secondbeatsongs]

for anyone too young to know this: watching The Truman Show is a vastly different experience now, compared to how it was before youtube and social media influencers became normal

before it was like, "what a horrifying thing to do to a human being! to take away their autonomy and privacy, all for the sake of profits! to create fake scenarios for them to react to, just to retain viewership! to ruin their happiness just so some corporate entity could harvest money from their very humanity! how could anyone do something so evil?"

and now it's like, "ah, yeah. this is still deeply fucked up, but it's pretty much what every influencer has been doing to their kids for a decade now. probably bad that we've normalized this experience"

[t4t4t]

Hi !

I got bottom surgery on July 25th :3

I'm recovering well but I'll be on bedrest for a while. Collie and I will need rent help for September/food/gas/utilities/etc. Two disabled trans women. Anything helps ! Thank yall so much for all you've helped so far, it's saved my life ❤️

https://venmo.com/u/nora-esther-rose

https://www.paypal.me/NoraEstherRose

https://venmo.com/u/Leah-Esther-Rose

https://www.paypal.me/androgynophore

[50c14lly4nx10u5]

i don't like fizzy bomb i feel vulnerable when shaking it and i often die when i do and hence i never use it :/

[webbelzebub]

this is their dynamic to me

[1-marigold-1]

Thinking of how often Martyn uses sound effects, and because no one else does it in the life series as much (and he does it in all of 3rd life) I just like to think that he has an ability of imitating sounds 1:1, so he can just randomly hiss like a creeper, or alter his voice, he can imitate voices of others, he's just a walking soundboard he can do anything!

and the implications of it are even funnier to me, because imagine, something happens and Ren's like

"This is so sad. Martyn, play Despacito"

[radiance1]

Alfred Pennyworth has in fact, perhaps, in the slightest of chances.

Picked up his Master's habit of collecting children as if they were on sale.

He was spending his time on one of those rare vacations he decided to take, it was nice, to relax with only the vague overhanging worry of something going wrong back at the manor that he's gotten very good at ignoring.

Only to come across a child bleeding out in an alley, heavily injured.

He would not be able to live with himself if he didn't at least try to help them however he could.

Such is how he acquired a child he later found to be a meta who whished to learn the ways of a butler.

---

Danny had escaped from a GIW compound, after having been handed over by his family a while after his reveal. He felt, completely and utterly betrayed, when it happened. His parents, while hurt, he was at least capable of actually seeing them do it, but never would he have thought Jazz would do so as well.

They did it so happily, that he wondered if letting him go really was the greatest thing to happen to this family.

He chained, muzzled, all the ways to bind him they pulled all the stops too, knowing how dangerous he was. He wouldn't have even done anything then, too stunned by his families apart willingness at handing him over to the government.

He hated them.

He hated them so much.

The GIW facility was a terrible, cold, unfeeling place. One where they drilled thoughts into his head again and again until he found himself unconsciously repeating them when his head felt empty, one where his body gained a new mark day by day and pushed through tests, he had no clue of even hoping to comprehend what they would gain out of it.

It was a cold, unfeeling place. Placed in a cell of white and nothing else, with low walls and chains binding his body in place until the time came for another experiment.

It was a room he grew used to. One he even held some kind of strange, twisted affection for.

It was a room that held a tiny piece of safety, of rest. It was a room that taught him to hate.

A deep, powerful, disgusting, twisting hatred that crawled from the depths of his cells, corrupting his blood and carving itself deep into his bones. Forcing it's out of his pores until it practically oozed from his flesh.

It drowned his mind, tainting each and every thought, every memory, every dream, every waking moment until he could feel nothing but hatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehate.

When he was taken out of that he could feel nothing, with the drugs swimming their way through his blood that snapped the thin string keeping him between a person and an emotionless puppet.

He thinks that's what the GIW thinks he is.

And when he was placed back in that room, he could only hate.

It was a cycle. Stuck between feeling either nothing or hatred.

He hated feeling nothing, it made him feel like he wasn't real. Like it snapped the thread that held him between what a real person was and a dream.

So, he allowed himself to drown deep into his hatred. Until the white walls of his far to small room seemed to fade, until whatever sound he could have heard became nothing but dull noise.

Until the passage of time seemed to become just a blink.

He didn't know what day it was, when he saw it. Saw them. He didn't know the time, the date, the day, the hours. He knew nothing.

But he could recognize his family. Recognize one of the objects of his intense hatred that he forced his thoughts too. The people who willingly gave him up just like that and one of the causes for his current life.

He didn't know why they showed him them, he felt it some sick, utterly cruel joke. A joke he didn't know the punchline for, a joke the universe sent his way to make his life all the more miserable.

There were multiple of them. Multiple clones of his family. Som within test tubes, some being pulled out from the tubes, some walking around in lab coats. A waste of talent, they called it in his dad's case, a waste of intelligence in his mother's, and a waste of intellect in his sister's case.

His original family was already dead, he was told. Replaced by clones, clones that took over the legal decision to change his guardianship. Clones walking around twisting and desecrating his family.

'At least it was painless.' One of the clones said, talking with his mother's face. 'Far more than they deserved for having keeping a thing like him' spoken by his father's imposter.

The drugs pumping through his system to keep him calm, to keep him feeling nothing was suddenly pierced through by an intense feeling of horror, hate and self-loathing.

He should've known it wasn't his family. He should've done more! More to protect them! To keep them safe! The could've still been alive if he just knew.

In that moment, watching imposters speaking, walking, talking, breathing, with his families faces. He exploded. Exploded with a power fueled by nothing but his intense hatred for every. Single. Living being in this goddamn facility.

He killed whoever stood in his way. Managing to get his hands on relatively newly designed weapon, an ectoplasmic scythe (that also apparently could revert into an everyday item). Which he used to rip and tear throughout the entirety of the facility. He got injured, of course, he couldn't dodge everything, but he didn't care.

A body stuck between life and death, incapable of fully going one way or the other no matter what happened. Gifted supernatural powers fueled by wrath and twisting hatred and a weapon made by man yet in the range of the supernatural.

They didn't stand a change. He killed them all. No matter who it was, man, woman, clone. He didn't, couldn't care. He could only kill, only maim, only hurt.

And that's what he did.

It was then, when the facility was blanketed with silence tainted by despair, death and hysteria. When previously white walls were covered by blood, and the halls turned into rivers of blood and corpses. That he broke down, the overwhelming hatred he felt replaced by relief then sadness then self-loathing.

His family didn't give him up! But they were killed. Kill because of him. He couldn't stand being in this place, anymore. His body felt as if it were moving on unseen strings as it walked through the halls, the scythe shrinking back what it was when out of combat, his mind too occupied by thoughts and feelings.

It walked through a portal, one to the ghost zone, and then promptly into another portal and spat him out into an alleyway. Which he then promptly collapsed and curled into a ball, curing the shrunken scythe in his palm and he was out like a light.

A few days after he woke up, he found himself growing attached to the human that found him in that alleyway. An old man, maybe, but a nice one. He didn't want to meet anyone, besides that man, so he turned invisible when anyone else come into contact with him.

Alfred Pennyworth.

It was a name he clung onto mentally and a man he clung onto physically as well. He wanted to be like that man, someone so nice and caring, someone who didn't mind that he turned invisible at the sing of another person, who let him cling onto him both invisible and not whenever he wanted to.

He did panic when he heard Alred saying his vacation was over, and such that he had to leave. He didn't want to be left alone again, he didn't know what he would do if he was left alone again.

Until Afred said we were going home.

We. As in, him plus another. Alfred plus Danny.

Home.

Heat blossomed in his chest, seeming to replace the constant, low hum of hate sitting beneath him skin.

Home.

[project-sekai-facts]

According to 4koma #232, Kohane has the ability to purr.

[theminecraftbee]

-slamming bolt upright in a cold sweat- what do you mean verbal contracts cleo. what do you MEAN verbal contracts cleo. artists if you're doing commercial work you're A) charging much higher rates and B) making them SIGN A CONTRACT, right? right? you understand why that's VITAL, right? why having a written contract is VITAL for commercial work? you understand? you make them sign a written contract? please if you go looking in proper artist/graphic design circles i'm sure you can find a basic form that's legal in your locality and doesn't require you talk to a lawyer but if you're doing commercial work you're MAKING THEM SIGN A CONTRACT RIGHT--

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

not enough discussion about the gavins' complicated relationship with feminine-coded/beauty products, i don't think.

[elbiotipo]

I was going to make a longer post about it but just imagining how the US election arguments as we approach November will flood every place of the English-speaking internet (where, unfortunately, I hang out during much of my time) and god, it's gonna be so tiresome. We're gonna get flooded with "REGISTER TO VOTE" ads even if you don't live there and people arguing about voting, not voting, voting for this and that, not voting for third parties (apparently a crime in the US, great democracy guys), and so on and so on. And the results in one way or the other will be awful for the wider world. Not looking forward to it.

[catliker49]

I adore Wally with his hair down so much!!! He is so Pretty!! AHH!

I drew this quite quickly so It's not the best but I'm still really Happy with it! I (Most likely..) wont post until my birthday, however.. that is in about 11 days now!! How exciting!

Once again thank you all so so so much on all the support on my last post!! (people reblogging and yelling in the tags makes me feel so Happy you have no idea, haha!!)

[sneez]

morning in the green box [id in alt text]

[octoooo]

POV: You bothered them on their only day off

Outfits based on:

Them Last Night:

Handsome bride & ugly ass groom <3

[ikanebula]

Happy Jack-O'ween!!!!!

[ekat-fandom-blog]

Jack decides he needs a bit of time away from family to mourn the loss of his one sided friendship with Vlad and Vlad's death. So he takes a trip to Gotham. On this trip, he runs into Damian and Tim, who are convinced he's Captain Marvel in disguise.

Meanwhile, Jason's also run into Jack as he's coming into his ghost powers. Jason starts freaking out because someone just saw him when his new powers started glitching. Panicking only worsens the situation as now he can't figure out how to get his foot un-caught in the cement.

Jack, despite not knowing if this kid is a halfa or not, decides to give him advice based on how Danny told him his powers work. It works.

Now, Jason has a sort-of mentor that he didn't ask for but definitely needs, and Jack has something to do while he sorts out his feelings on the whole Vlad-was-never-his-friend thing.

Eventually, Damian and Tim catch them while Jack is trying to explain how Jason might have a second form. While Jack explains, Jason just transforms. His ghost form isn't what either expected. Jack was expecting something similar to Danny's or Vlad's. Not a winged little kid with a mask.

To be honest, this just solidifies that this guy is Captain Marvel for Damian and Tim. Obviously he decided to teach Jason magic.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Peeped the horrors

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