#come and cry with me I order you!

[ciancy-an]

I felt kind of guilty for not doing anything for Choi Han and Choi Jung Soo on the eighth so I made this little comic as a compensation present for both of them. First time making a comic, pls go easy on me!

And what are you saying? Choi Jung Gun who?

Bonus

[triglycercule]

horror being very specific with table manners and he berates people (dust and killer) for eating like fucking pigs

i think it'd be morbidly funny that because there was no food in horrortale but the cutlery and stuff was all there that maybe he would pretend to eat with no food on the plate. it was in a satirical way that he would joke maybe around horror paps or alone where he would pretend to eat and have really good table manners but then the satire joke became REAL and now horror is incredibly specific about how to eat food

you MUST hold the fork in the left and knife in right says horror. no killer you can't duel wield the fucking knives this is a table not a slaughterhouse. dust pick up your elbows off the table. actually how about you get your entire upper body off the table tf why are you SLEEPING ON THE FOOD??? killer's sitting fetal position in the chair because of course he wouldn't sit normally like the idiot he is. dust is forced to put his hood down and reveal his face no more mysterious shadow style because it puts horror at ease. they cannot have a single peaceful meal because once they get past the table manners phase it then becomes a completion to see who can eat the least (because they suck at everything including eating)

[bitterseaproduction]

Angsty Bilbo dying Bagginshield art giving me another story idea~ 😂😭💕

But no, seriously? A play on the popular time travel fix-it, but one where Bilbo dies protecting Thorin during the Battle of Five Armies? And Thorin is inconsolable, I can’t even. And he might pull himself together long enough to stabilize Erebor, but there is No Way he can be a good ruler in his grief, so he has to pass it on. (I was going to say to Dain just to twist that knife a little harder, but actually there are reasons hinted below on why Fíli & Kíli must have lived.) And Thorin just… he wanders, probably. A shell of himself for the rest of his days.

And yet, when he inevitably passes away, he awakens on the road to the Shire. And he’s younger. And he’s so confused, quickly suspecting he must be dead and this is nothing like what he was taught to expect. But then his instant impulse to check Bag End has him walking in on that same meeting from so many years ago, his Company intact, the wizard smiling at him, introducing him to… to…

Bilbo. His Bilbo. The sight of him makes Thorin want to weep and hold him and never let go again, but he is instantly terrified to do anything, because is this a dream? Will he wake? What happens if he says something new, will ‘this’ be ruined somehow? He doesn’t want that, doesn’t want to change anything, save for the end. The very end.

But, even as he strives to mimic himself, he knows something is wrong. He’s off-script from the start purely due to his shock, but he tries to recover, get back on track, and within words, he’s managed it. The discussion is righting itself, and no one there could possibly know the difference, right?

And yet, Bilbo stares at him. From the instant Thorin walked in, Bilbo was staring, looking lost. As he had before, that first time, but it wasn’t the same. Bilbo had been confused then as well, but it had been a light, anxious uncertainty then. This time? He was frowning, his expression tense.

His eyes haunted.

Because Bilbo has also lived that night before. Just once as far as that night was concerned, but it was familiar to him. So familiar. That first night had haunted him for decades, to the very end of his long, long life, when he thought he might know rest, and perhaps — if he was truly as lucky as some once claimed — he might get to see his friends again. See Thorin again.

Instead he had slept, drifted away, and awoken to a battle about to start.

And he had questioned it, had stumbled that first time, but he adjusted. He tried to save Thorin. To save them all.

And he failed. Again.

Then, when he finally slept for the first time afterwards, he awoke to the battle starting again.

And again.

And he tried, over and over, day after the same horrid day to find a way to get through. And sometimes Thorin lived. Sometimes the princes did. Sometimes, new people died. The wrong people.

Once, in his darkest moments, he thought that perhaps someone was trying to teach him humility, teach him to accept fate as it was and not try to fight it, not change anything. And so he went through the motions as well as he could remember them after all those years, following them to the letter, save for when he sobbed all the harder when it was done.

He sobbed again, the relief bone-deep, when he awoke again the next day, the battle still awaiting him.

He lost count of his attempts, and no one could rightly vouch for his state of mind when he finally resorted to the one thing he had refused to try: Not since that fourth (or fifth?) time, when he managed to be there for the fight and threw himself in Azog’s way, but Thorin pulled him out of the way, and screamed at him with such outrage and fear and despair in the few beats he bought by pushing Azog over, that Bilbo never attempted it again.

Until that final day. And that time, Bilbo didn’t give Thorin a chance to stop him.

And it broke a heart Bilbo thought long since shattered to hear Thorin scream, to feel him pick him up and hold him close and hear his voice like that. But the words faded soon enough, and he couldn’t feel anything, nothing except for regret and acceptance, because this was different. He felt it. This time, he would not awaken again, and that was fine. He had saved his king, kept all of his dwarves safe that last time. If that was to be the last, then that was all he could ask for. It was alright. He could sleep.

Then he woke up.

Not outside Erebor, but inside a hole. His hole. Bag End.

He walked outside, stood in the sun, and watched a wizard walk up the road to his door.

He did not understand.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

the picnic table scene

[hello-galad]

“Xenk, please. Please wake up”

“I can’t do this without you”

[anjasitdown]

I have so many Thoughts I wanna say before I move on from the Public Safety Arc. There'll be manga spoilers by the way.

To be honest, I put off watching Chainsaw Man when I heard the protagonist's sole aim in life is to... touch boobs. I thought Denji was just like any other shonen MCs with perverted tendencies. I tried watching because it was animated by Mappa, but I stayed because of Aki, Denji, and Power (and Meowy). But as I reached the ending of Public Safety Arc, I realized Denji's more complex than that.

All his life Denji was deprived of basic needs; he couldn't even afford the bare minimum. He didn't get to experience love from a parent or admiration from his peers. Denji craved so much for love and affection, but the only way he knew how to get that was through sexual intimacy with a woman. Receiving affection from friends is completely foreign to him. That's why when he and Power did that in the bathroom, Denji's like, "Wait a minute... that's it?" Deep down Denji knew there's more to love than that—there's more to affection than just touching breasts. The moment he started to realize that, Makima just had to twist his mind and turn him back to his sexual urges (screw u for that makima btw).

Throughout the whole arc, Denji continued to believe in his idea that love is just about touch and sex. He ran after women after women who fulfilled that but left him feeling hollowed because, well, they tried to kill him afterwards. It's actually entertaining to watch Denji finally gets his first kiss only to get barfed on the mouth and his second got his tongue cut off. And Makima, the woman he truly loved, not only used him but also discarded him when she got what she wanted. Most of those women don't see Denji as more than a dog. Denji is just some dumb boy who doesn't deserve the normal life he's having.

But Denji really is just some boy. But he's Aki and Power's boy. There's nothing special about him. Aki and Power know that because they looked beyond the Chainsaw—they saw Denji as he is, and accepted him. People treated Denji like a dog and no one saw his worth as a person. But not Aki and Power. Aki gave him a house, taught him and Power manners, cooked for them, and taught him how to cook. Aki treated Denji and Power as his own. And Power, as unhinged and selfish as she is (affectionate), relied so much on Denji. I think that trust taught him to be a better person. To have someone rely on you can make you feel loved and respected. That's why helping Power overcome the fear of the Darkness Devil felt so natural to him. Sleeping with her on the same bed, taking a bath together, and Power walking in on him while he's on the toilet didn't feel naughty (as Denji said). The love Denji's searching for everywhere has always been in front of him: Aki and Power.

Makima can tell Denji she fabricated everything for all I care, saying everything has been a lie and that she set it all up to destroy Denji's mind and heart. But what Aki and Power felt toward Denji was real because they were the only ones who truly loved Denji without asking for anything in return. They saw him as he is, and loved him.

My precious children 🥺🥺🥺 I'm going to miss them

[mako-neexu]

a 'beginning' and 'end', a place to feel grounded, a place of bottomlessness, a place of safety and familiarity, the feelings of the living to a journey that seemed to feel as if there is no end in sight can be a burden no one can bear. a familiar feeling of floating as you fall almost endlessly, as if suspended in time, a memory that reminds you of someone from years past, a nostalgic feeling of soft gloves and pink hair, of a small smile of happiness and the faint smell of chemical and antiseptic... so close like a star. all the things you lost, all the sorrow, all the memories of cherished pain and joy shall be your guide until the end. you will reach that destination as one of the living. should you falter and feel as if time had stopped and nothing grounds you to the earth, and you feel that you have been falling endlessly without hope, may the bonds you have gained pull you up. again and again. should you fall, should your heart waver in the face of mind numbing ache to bittersweet nostalgia, everything that you keep close to your heart shall save you, one way or another. as long as there is an end to the fall, you are alive. you are alive.

[flowercrowngods]

always so funky to be reminded that your parents might love you but they don’t actually like you very much

[britneyshakespeare]

i know i've been very culty on here about period underwear and reusable period products in general whenever i've brought up the topic in the last year or so but i mean it sincerely. i have never spent my money on a product that just simply improved my life so much. game-changing isn't even the beginning of it. i look forward to how much better my periods are now since i no longer have to depend on gross disposables. period underwear is the shit

[flowerakatsuka]

kept on thinking about some of the more emotional beats of the kurokara lore while i was trying to fall asleep last night and i just... i need to explode...

[wrylu]

whaaaoooooo

[coconut530]

Here’s two doodles (late night edition)

[oh-okay-kay]

i feel like im starting to experience emotions more, might be due to a couple months ago stopping taking my anxiety/depression/ocd meds because i couldnt get more refills? but whatever reason why, its wild

ive always been 'low empathy', and never ever could feel actual excitement or sadness when i was supposed to. i remember opening the letter to find out i was accepted to an art school when i was 10, my mom was filming, all i could say was 'yay' and try to act like i felt anything about it. i knew i was happy, but nothing in me could show it or even really *feel* it. i never cried when sad things happen, only out of frustration or if something was particularly triggered. its honestly awful sometimes to live like this and just.. be incapable of attachment or emotions, or attempting to comfort someone having it be forced and practised because it feels so foreign

but now im starting to cry more, which is a start i suppose. particularly at words, its like i can finally feel the *meaning* and emotions of a speech or song, rather than there being the feeling of a squeeze in my chest or usually nothing at all. i cant tell if i like it or not lol! its so weird, youre telling me folks are supposed to be feeling this way? nuts

[vse-kar-vem]

how to write vent post title that does not come off as self-pitying and or accusatory (because it's NOT !)

[teruthecreator]

guess whose oliver plush got stolen because the delivery driver cant follow instructions or even bother looking at the address AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[cantstayawaycani]

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