#i love angsting them your honor

[axolgodl]

“Waiting for you…”

I just realized i’ve been lurking here again but haven’t posted any art here in 1838483 years so here is a tiny painting I made last year for a very good friend of mine in the SJ discord 💖 Qijiu angst owns my soul

(Cross posted long ago on twitter don’t @ me)

[doodlemcjazzhands]

A little dorlene couch cuddle for @uhhlifeig

[zellaroonie]

hypocrite

[batfam-stuff-posts-0]

The fact that this is a tag makes me. so happy, actually

[mario-art]

nadja and laszlo arguing. very sexi of them

[tornado1992]

Do you guys think that Sonic has scars?

Not like Tails’, definitely not like those. Tails’ scars are from ripping fur, burning flesh, badly healed broken bones, deep cuts, and stuff he doesn’t even remember, from before he even met Sonic and started fighting Eggman. So many scars. He’s covered in them, his fur hides them, so he’s lucky that his tails are the fluffiest part of him, that’s where he has the most scars, hes not exactly ashamed of his scars, they show what he’s survived, they show that he came through all that. But still, most of them are a painful reminder that he had to survive, not live, survive.

Now Sonic… Sonic has very few scars, almost none of them from fights or Eggman encounters, his dumb bots couldn’t ever dream of hurting him, he was way too fast for that, way too strong. So they’re not from those fights, no, they’re from something completely different.

All the baby fox fangs marks in his hands, all the deep scratches from tiny little claws in his chest and the back of his arms, all the little cuts close to his face, all of them.

Sonic is proud of those scars.

He’s proud of those scars, because each and every of those scars are a reminder that he baby fox that caused them survived, because every time Sonic bled because of that kid, it was worth it.

Because he tried to bathe him when he was more blood and mud than fur. Because he forced him to take medicine when he was sick. Because he hugged him every time he had a nightmare and wouldn’t wake up even if it meant he would instinctively try to hurt him in the process. Because he held him and didn’t let go even when he felt tiny claws digging and ripping in his skin.

Those scars meant his little brother still wanted to survive. Those scars meant Sonic did everything to make sure he would live.

He’s proud of those scars.

[mydeadgaywizards]

no thoughts just sirius “what is love” black and remus “i’ll show you” lupin

[joykai]

ANGST AHEAD, WARNING WARNING YOU WILL FIND ANGST

Okay, just a thought, not a full blown fic but if anyone wants to make I a fic feel free and tag me plz I'd love to see it.

Wade has bad days right? where the cancer kicks in a bit too much and fucks up his re-gen so he heals a lot slower, he usually doesn't take jobs on these days and has his head in a toilet throwing up stomach acid because he has nothing left to throw up.

It's one of those days, he had been throwing up and being a mess and logan has been with him every step of the way, loving him through it all (god wade loves his husband-yes they're married now deal with it).

He finally gets to sleep with logan cuddling him close and his face in logan's chest, Logan (poor boy) has another nightmare, they've lessened since he and wade started dating which prompted wade to be more cuddly and lord when he put a ring on that mans finger, wade has NEVER left his side and he adored every second of it (It's nice having someone be as obsessed as you as you are, so he doesn't have to hide it).

Sometimes tho...the nightmares come back to bite him in the ass, wade is always there and calming him down, god knows they've gone through enough shirts and sheets to prove it and wade bounces back every time, but logan is scared that one day he won't....

Logan has his nightmare, he is back where he always is and- wait no....this is his and wade's apartment....this is their living room, he hears a scream- It's coming from the bedroom- he runs in and finds wade...dead....his wade.....his wade is dead, and the faceless fucker above him is just standing there, his eyes dart and sees- oh god....mary puppins....

He goes savage, rips the man apart and kills everything in his wade and- why does everyone look like wade? he's killing wade...stop....Stop....Stop.....STOP!-

He wakes up.

Panting, painted in sweat, a hand on his shoulder, claws in flesh, predator eyes darting around the room...wade.

His wade...

at the end of his claws, he retracts them, sobs, he's sorry he's so sorry...why isn't wade moving?....why isn't he awake yet? why isn't he saying anything!

WADE!

WADE!

WADE!

He's yelling at his husband's lifeless body, SPEAK, SAY SOMETHING! ANYTHING! WADE!

He doesn't move.

He's killed him.

He always kills

He's a monster

He's-wait....wade is moving....WADE IS BREATHING! WADE

He yells, holding his husband close as his healing kicks in again.

He holds him close as his body wracks with sobs, he's sorry, he's so sorry, he didn't mean too, he's sorry.

Wade hushes him, brings him back down to the bed, holds him close, Logan's head is in wade's chest...logan feels safe again.

He places a hand on logan's wrist, feels the dulled down heartbeat (wade is basically dead man) but a heartbeat none the less, it's that beautiful rhythm that lulls him back to bed.

As long as wade is okay...everything is okay.

[ionshi-teiru]

i left the room destroyed

to rage my love

[kakashi-fangirl-ita-blog]

Zosan headcanon (set either after Whole Cake Island or during one of the pre-timeskip arcs)

One night Sanji has a bad dream (about his childhood, his trauma, his fears...) and suddenly wakes up gasping and heavy breathing.

He doesn't want to wake up his crewmates, so he just gets up from the floor where he usually sleeps and leaves the room. But Zoro is on lookout that night and sees Sanji running into the kitchen (his comfort place). He knows that something isn't right by how panicked his breathing sounded and how confused he looked around, so he decides to check on him.

He finds Sanji in the darkness, sitting on the floor, with his back leaning on the counter, covering his head with his arms and sobbing like he never heard him do. (In his own mind, it that moment Sanji is still a child, left alone crying in the darkness by his father).

Sanji sees Zoro on the doorsteps, lit by the moonlight. Because of his pride and his rivalry with the swordsman, he doesn't want Zoro to see him while he is so vulnerable and tells him to go away, but of course Zoro is way too stubborn to do what he tells him to and wants to know why he's crying.

Sanji thinks that he wants to make fun of him, so he just stays silent, suffocating his sobs, waiting for an insult or a joke. But instead Zoro sits next to him and tells him that he envies him, because he's able to let all his emotions out and to cry freely without feeling judged (by his own self) or "less masculine".

Sanji is obviously surprised by that glimpse of Zoro's sincerity, but doesn't want to tell him why he's crying. He doesn't want to burden him with his story. In that moment, he just knows that Zoro's company is comforting. Their shoulders slightly brushing while sitting next to each other in the darkness, Zoro's slow breathing, the warmth of his body... Everything about that makes Sanji cry even more. He isn't alone anymore. He doesn't have to bear all his sufferings by himself in a loop of poisonous thoughts.

Without even realising it, he finds himself leaning his head on Zoro's shoulder, feeling the tears running down his cheeks and soaking Zoro's shirt. He quickly starts sobbing again, covering his face with his hand. Zoro wraps his arm around him and pulls him closer, letting Sanji bury his head on his chest.

Zoro patiently waits, while Sanji cries until he's too tired to even let out a single hiccup and they both fall asleep holding each other.

[alyssamae27]

i’m pretty sure crimson rivers just permanently altered my brain chemistry 😀

[giggly-squiggily]

Hello dear, long time no see! 😊

I see the sentence starters are open... may I request "When was the last time you slept?" with SatoSugu and lee!Suguru?

If this doesn't spark your interest, feel free to decline of course. I hope you're doing well and having a lovely November! 🥰🥰

Yours, Crystal ❤️

{Puffs are now CLOSED!}

Oooo, I love! :D Crystal, you always come in clutch for some good satosugu prompts! :D I've gotcha covered, friend!

Suguru held his head in his hands, taking long, measured breaths. In…and out..

“Hey.” Satoru’s voice made him startle all over. “When’s the last time you slept?”

“...Can’t recall.” No point lying. Not when he felt those crystal eyes on him. He dared a peek at Satoru’s concerned brow as the other sat beside him. “You don’t have to stay up with me.”

“I can’t sleep either.” Satoru tossed an arm around him, pulling him closer. “Not without you.”

Well damn. Suguru bit his lip as he looked at his hands, trying not to cry. Ugh, how he hated nights like this. Everything made him emotional. Even the smallest of gestures from his obnoxious boyfriend.

The hand on his shoulders dropped to his back, rubbing soothing circles against him while he struggled to compose himself. “I won’t make you talk about it, but you know you have me, right? I’m good at listening when I’m not talking.”

Suguru snorted, his mood lightening some. Satoru grinned, clearly pleased. “Maybe if you take your mind off whatever’s going on, you can sleep?”

“Maybe-hehey!” That damn hand, it went right for his hip! “Satoruhuhuhu, dohohon’t you dahahre!”

“Oh I dare.”

“Whehehll wahahke eheheveryone!”

“Who’s everyone? It’s just the two of us.”

“Yoohohu know whahaht I meahhaan! Aheahhaha!” His laughter overcame him, making Suguru fall into his chest completely. Burying his face to mute the sound of his giggles, he weakly batted at Satoru’s hands as they carried on their mission to make him forget. “Oohohokay, ohohokay, enohohogh!”

“Are you sure?” Satoru did as asked, gently grabbing Suguru’s hand. “Are you gonna try to go to bed now?”

“Ehehehe..hehehe..yeahhah..yeah. I am.” Nodding, he watched Satoru get up, tugging him along. “This is dumb but..thanks, Satoru.”

“Of course it’s dumb. That’s how I do things.” The white haired man turned back with a grin, eyes warm. “If it means you’re happy, I’ll forever be your tiny jester.”

“Dork.” Suguru rolled his eyes, squeezing his hand back. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[nana-mizu-shiki]

"....I was giving Luthor's cellphone a virus."

Also I totally lost order of these screenshots as I just take them from my clipboard and copy the link, but I just forgot to post a bunch of pics so my clipboards now a mess. Sorry but also I'm just reccing fics so not that much

"So true, bestie,"

I love when the batkids use slang and confuse tf out of each other.

"Maybe? I don't actually remember what we did with Santa's body."

He wants to reward the first part because finally the kid realizes cops are bad, but he just called Jason a cop.

Freebird guitar solo: can't believe I'm gonna turn 18

Stop calling me sonic I'm clearly tails: and it only took 34 years

👀

(Bart:) 😎 🤜 》》+he |Forth ₩all ]]

I'm like a divorce lawyer with how I'm always breaking things in half.

- The Author

"Richard."

Oh no.

"What did I do?"

You Dun Fucked' Up, That's What You Did!!

"Is that how it works?"

"I tried it once and met Jesus. I remember."

"You don't believe in Jesus," Damian says.

"That's what made it so memorable."

Lmao Tim Wtf ( T∀T)

[hivemindclown]

The king and his jester

Characters belong to @totallyottie99

Grrrrrgrrrrrrrr I need them to have more content GRENDJDJDJJSJXJD TOTTIE PLEASE

GIVE US THE REFORMED VILLAIN AND HIS SILLY JESTER BF CONTENT AND MY LIFE IS YOURRRRRSSSSSSS

YOU CANNOT INTRODUCE ME TO THIS TROPE AND LEAVE ME WITH LITTLE TO NO CONTENTTR

Shaking the bars of my enclosure TOTTIE I SWEAR TO YOU ONE DAY I WILL COMMISSION YOU TO DRAW THESE TWO BEING CUTE AND LOVEY TOGETHER!!!

[trashmakerarticle]

Fanon vs canon tim and Damian

Damian: what am I doing,,, why do I wanna hurt you so bad,,,

Tim: ….

Damian: I’m supposed to be your friend,,, I just want to be your friend.

Tim: Damian I- I’m sorry.

Vs

Damian: why are you so ugly

Tim: why are you so annoying

Damian: go to hell

Tim: Alfred made pancakes

Damian: okay let’s go

[the-broken-pen]

Hiii, I love your writing! It's so great that you're back! Could you write something like two actors are playing hero/villain in a movie or theater, but both of them sometimes just gets too in character/or just gets too stuck in character, so for like moments they actually forget that they are just acting?

“You didn’t think I’d let you die by anyone else’s hand but mine, did you?” The villain cocked their head to the side, grinning.

Distantly, the hero registered the whispering of stage commands, but tuned it out.

“You can’t just kill anyone who threatens me,” they argued back. They watched as the villain’s grin sharpened.

“Watch me,” the villain whispered, stepping closer. Fake blood was drying on the side of the hero’s head, and it itched more than usual. Must be a new brand from costuming.

“I could arrest you,” they offered, but they let the hesitation show on their face. Visible enough for the camera to catch their unwillingness, no matter how fake it was. Good enough nobody could tell the difference between real and not.

“You won’t.”

The hero tipped one head to the side

“And why’s that?”

The hero shifted, leaning in towards the villain.

“Because you’re mine,” the villain whispered, tone playful as their eyes seared into the hero’s.

The hero’s mouth went dry. It wasn’t on purpose.

Something kindled in their chest.

“Oh yeah?”

The villain shrugged one shoulder in perfect time to the script, and the hero pulled the next line to the tip of their tongue—

“Prove it.”

That was not the next line.

That wasn’t a line at all.

The villain blinked just once, the only sign of surprise they would allow, before their grin widened. Their shoulders loosened into something feral, something that delighted in this change.

Something that belonged off-stage.

“I’m covered in the blood of the people who hurt you,” the villain’s voice was smooth sliding down the hero’s spine. They shivered. “What more proof do you want, love.”

They blushed furiously at the nickname, even underneath the stage makeup, and at the pleased look on the villain’s face, it was visible.

What was the line what was the line what—

Their hands fisted into the front of the villain’s costume, dragging them closer. The villain let them, hand settling on the hero’s waist in a movement far too smooth.

“I don’t know,” the hero murmured, and they were just as surprised as the villain when their lips hovered just over the other’s ear. “Why don’t you stop trying to kill me, for starters.”

The villain tugged them closer, and the hero’s eyes went to their lips.

The villain looked at the hero like they wanted to devour them.

Fuck, what had been the line—

“Oh, but you’re so pretty covered in blood, Hero,” the villain crooned, and the hero opened their mouth to say something, their tongue a separate entity from their brain at this point—

“Hold!” Someone off-stage called, and they both froze. A second later, they were halfway across the stage from one another. Slipping out of being the hero and back into being themself felt like hitting a brick wall.

If the way the villain shuddered was any indication, they had forgotten they were playing a character too.

The hero turned away to face the tech crew, hand settling over their face to hide their blush.

The villain’s gaze was molten and heavy on their shoulders, even from as far away as they were.

“I don’t think that’s in the blocking,” the stage manager frowned, flipping through the script.

None of that was the blocking. No matter how much the stage manager searched those pages they would never find those lines.

Fuck.

“Improv,” the hero choked out, flushing. “It was, uh. A creative choice—“

From behind one of the curtains, they heard a crew member snort, muttering something about teenage actors and horniness—

The villain was smirking, a wicked thing.

“Right,” the stage manager said slowly, brow furrowed from where they sat. They murmured something into their headset, eyes shifting up between the villain and the hero, before they slid a screen in front of themself.

Just barely, the hero could make out the shape of the scene they had just filmed.

The screen went black, the room silent for a moment, before the stage manager let out a long suffering sigh.

“We’re changing the blocking.”

“What?” The hero yelped.

The villain settled their hands into their pockets, unbothered and grinning.

“We’re keeping the scene,” the stage manager nodded towards their tablet, and the hero almost passed out on the spot. They watched the stage manager eye the pleased and possessive look on the villain’s face. “For now, though, let’s call it a wrap for the day.”

Shuffling began, lights flickering off, and the hero escaped to their own dressing room, panting slightly.

Dear god, they were so fucked. They had forgotten they were acting, again—

“Improv, hm?” The villain grinned, lock sliding into place. The hero hadn’t even heard them come in.

The hero groaned. “I don’t know what happened—“

“Yeah,” the villain nodded, and they were closer than they had been a moment ago.

The hero swallowed.

“I’m sorry.”

The villain raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

The hero waved one hand between them. “For, you know—“

The villain was still smiling.

It was then they remembered who had fought so hard in the writers’ room for the villain and the hero to end up together.

‘Enemies to lovers,’ the villain had said, eyes dark. ‘The fans will love it. There’s been sub plot for the last two seasons.’

The directors had pushed back, but now—

Oh. The villain wasn’t mad.

They were pleased.

The hero choked.

“You,” the hero tried.

“Me,” the villain agreed, and then they were kissing, all-consuming and desperate.

They made a noise in the back of their throat, the villain twining their hand into the hero’s hair.

“You forgot you were acting,” the villain murmured against their lips, and kissed them again before the hero could defend themself. “That I’m not really your villain and you aren’t my hero.”

The villain settled the hero onto the counter, coming to stand between their legs, one hand on their hip.

“Fuck,” they gasped, and they could feel the villain’s grin against their skin.

“Mhm.”

Somehow, the hero’s arms had ended up looped over the villain’s shoulders.

“Maybe stop killing people, and I’ll consider it,” they said between breaths.

“What?” The villain pulled back slightly.

“The line I forgot,” the hero said. They could drown in the villain’s eyes, they were sure of it. “Maybe stop killing people—“

“Don’t care,” the villain bit out, and then their mouth was on the hero’s again and nothing else mattered.

Maybe they weren’t truly hero and villain—but god were they good at pretending.

Three months later, the internet couldn’t decide what was better—that finally, after years, the hero and villain had ended up together on screen; or that off stage, their actors were desperately, hopelessly in love too.