#i'm going to be 100% feral

[clinicallyinsanedumpsterrabbit]

So I may have got The Book of Bill and it has me in a slight tiny itty bit of a death grip hyperfixation where all I've been able to imagine is his pathetic toxic ex ass

This pathetic triangle has once again parasitically wormed his way into my brain after years of absence

Also he totally would try and gaslight Ford and say he probably just lost the shirt when he stole it if ever asked where the shirt went

Ok so I could've put a ton of things in that last, panel, so I did, with some joke suggestive ones as the last two below the cut

I'm going to explode him with stock video explosions a bajillion times over

[winterofherdiscontent]

. 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓴 𝓲𝓷 𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓰𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓼

'Why does tragedy exist? Because you are full of rage. Why are you full of rage? Because you are full of grief' (Anne Carson)

...close up from a larger painting i've been working on

[drawbauchery]

I feel like out of every relationship on the bus, romantic or otherwise, the giving and receiving of flowers goes as follows:

- Fuyuhiko gives Peko and Hajime flowers ALL THE TIME even if it’s like, he was walking somewhere and saw a little daisy and picks it to give to one of them. Then of course he gives them bouquets of various ornateness whenever the mood strikes. But I also feel like he gives his friends flowers on special occasions. Maybe not all his friends, but the super close ones for sure.

- Chihiro is given flowers the most. It’s not even that one person gives him flowers a lot, it’s that so many different people see flowers and think “Chihiro” that he just ends up being given flowers all the time.

- Ryoma receives flowers from his boyfriends fairly often but only in the privacy of their respective homes cuz it makes him all flustered and he doesn’t want anyone to see that. (Amami is a little shit who gives Ryoma flowers whenever he wants.)

- Kaito and Kokichi competitively give Shuichi flowers.

- Imposter RARELY gives Teru flowers because when he does, Teru basically goes wild and requires an extra-vigorous night of naughty activities to settle him down.

GOD DAMMIT SOMEONE GIVE ME THE ENERGY TO DRAW ALL THESE RIGHT NOW

[svtskneecaps]

if i get a purgatory 3 before the year is out i'm so sorry i'm going to be INSUFFERABLE

[aflockofravens]

*dying pterodactyl noise*

"Chance or Something More" already had me in a chokehold but the English dub!?

I thought for sure we'd get the frantic over-the-top Jinshi when he sees that Maomao saved him, but instead we got the quiet, disbelieving, heartbroken, terrified voice of a man who is so so scared to lose the best thing that's ever happened to him.

And then his resolve carrying her out of there, calmly? Not making eye contact with anyone, pace unbroken, thousand-yard-stare of a man who almost lost everything?

He doesn't even care that he almost died. He doesn't care who's around to see him carry a low born servant girl out of the temple. He doesn't care about propriety or cultural expectations.

His Maomao is injured. She is his priority. Always.

[chiyana]

Bruce: now, for the last part of this meeting

Dick, Jason, Tim, Stephanie, Damian, Cass, and Duke: ?

Bruce: -turns around to bring up a power point presentation, the title card of which just reads 'Please Be Normal About Tim'-

Bruce: -turns back around-

Bruce: ...Tim why are you the only one still here

Tim: I just like power point presentations

[darlingofdots]

I am also a non-Brit so do not accuse me of being English but I think non-Brits significantly underestimate the popularity and impact of Mr Brightside on British culture

[romance-rambles]

godheim clarence | because it's you

On a seemingly normal day, as he's braiding your hair in the morning, your husband asks you if he should cut his hair. You try to be brave about it.

1.6k, post-clarence epilogue, misunderstandings + fluff, reader is mc, series: none

"SHALL I CUT MY HAIR short too?"

You register your husband's words as a joke at first. Why would you not? It flows so seamlessly from your own, after all—about how he might actually thank you for freeing up his time in the mornings if you chop off your long hair.

You know full well Clarence will not.

It is not enough to prevent you from chasing after your favorite kind of high. The one where he huffs exasperatedly and tells you as much, as a lovely but faint scarlet hue spreads across his cheek. The one that leaves you with the singleminded desire to kiss him, which you waste no time in doing—because you can.

So, expecting to see a hint of mirth in his blue eyes, you roll your eyes and watch him through the vanity's mirror with an unfaltering grin.

There is none.

Instead, the mirror reflects only the almost clumsy seriousness you've come to expect in his endeavors to prove himself worthy of being your husband. It is both flattering and worrying.

And sometimes, it makes you wonder if you were too harsh on him in the early days of your time together in the void, when you demanded apology after apology from him. Then, you remember that he's the same man who catches fishes only to free them in the end—and that this is simply sort of endearing idiot he is.

It helps immensely.

"Would you like to?" you ask carefully, concealing your silent insults with a half-awkward smile.

You would not like him to.

But it is rare for Clarence to express an interest in his appearance outside of what you make of it. His most frequently worn coat is the one you once complimented him, under a brightly-lit street lamp as he wrapped his scarf around you instead. He always buys the same fragrance, and only when it runs out, with a polite explanation of My wife likes this one the most that drives most merchants mad.

The only response he's ever offered when shopping for clothes is: If you like it, I'm fine with wearing it.

Biting back a scowl, you add, "I think you'd look good with short hair."

Of course he would. Even putting aside his hairstyle when he was younger, your husband is handsome enough to pull anything off.

You are, of course, very biased—it's an accusation you've never tried to deny.

"I see." With a pleased hum, Clarence ties off your braid. "Then I'll pick out a date. Would you like to come along?"

He's careful to adjust the hair tie first, concealing any stubborn tufts hair poking through between the gaps before he reaches for your usual red ribbon. Then, with a practiced ease that comes only with years' worth of repetition, he loops it through the hair tie and twists into a proper bow.

Today, you cannot find it in yourself to admire his careful movements through the mirror.

"I'm never going to hear the end of it if I do that," you answer, shuddering a little at the thought. The people at this village are mostly kind, but a few of the louder ones tend to comment on Clarence's tendencies a bit too frequently for your liking. "You remember what happened last time, don't you?"

Your fingers traverse down the full length of your neatly-braided hair to pull it over your shoulder. Their grasp on the end of it lasts for only a second before your hand falls to the edge of your stool. Gulping, you swivel around and soon find yourself properly face to face with your husband.

He smiles faintly. "In a sense, they weren't wrong."

To properly hold onto his face, you have to scoot closer to the edge. Clarence bends down slightly, further easing the burden on your arms. Your eyes narrow fondly at him before you ruin the moment by smushing his cheeks.

"They were insulting you," you correct him, indignation fueling your flat tone. "I'd say they were very wrong."

His expression grows helpless and fond. Wrapping his hands around your own, he settles down onto the hardwood floor. In doing so, he ignores your chiding entirely; instead, he looks at you with a hint of reverence in his gaze.

"Perhaps," Clarence agrees softly. "I've heard worse."

Inhaling sharply, you press your foreheads together. When you next speak up, your tone is softer. "Do you have a cut in mind?"

"The same as it was when I was younger, I suppose," he says, sounding a bit uncertain.

You do your best approximation of a nod. You're not entirely certain what brought this on, but that won't stop you from being the most supportive wife to ever be supportive. As you squeeze his hands gently, you hope he can sense your resolve.

"Alright," you say, a bit forcefully, as you press a kiss to his forehead. "—now get off the floor. It's my turn to do your hair."

IT'S WHEN YOU'RE CAREFULLY UNTANGLING your braid at night that you remember the conversation from that morning.

"Did you decide on a date?" you ask curiously.

Clarence hums. "I didn't get the chance to quite yet."

He's watching you from his side of the bed, both hands occupied by a book he stopped reading the moment you walked in after your nighttime routine. When you shake your hair back to normal and settle under the blankets, he wordlessly turns the lamps off, with only a flick of his hand.

Accepting his answer, you snuggle up against his chest, fully intent on going to sleep—

Except you can't.

Curiosity nags at you, offering you the same question over and over again in the hopes that you'll break. And break you do as you call out your husband's name.

You can't quite make out what his expression is, but you know he isn't asleep. It's only been a few years—just a little over a decade, to be precise—since they've reunited. Adjusting to a life within the bounds of time, you know, takes some time, especially for someone like Clarence who had seemingly outgrown the need to sleep even before he entered the nothingness.

"Clarence," you whisper, "what made you want to cut your hair?"

For a moment, he remains silent. You can hear his beating heart, and that is enough to let you know that he's flustered.

"Clarence?"

"You said I looked very handsome," he says finally. "The other day."

Upon hearing those words, your mind offers you nothing noteworthy. To you, calling your husband handsome is no different making sure your heart's intact. You think you might actually die if you don't tell him, but you haven't tested it before.

Your heart, however, is filled to the brim with affection for this man, the one you've searched nearly your entire life for.

Even if you do want to throttle him a little bit.

"You'll have to be more specific, dear," you tell him, gently touching his cheek. He's warm, you think. You're tempted to turn the lights back on. "I'm sure I say that every day. And why would that make you want to cut your hair?"

Clearing his throat, he adds, "To be more specific, you didn't say it to me necessarily. You were—" Clarence pauses, a hint of uncertainty to his next words. "—talking about my younger self."

Oh.

The gears in your head start to turn. Now, you can faintly recall the memory of you waxing poetically about the man whose image remains in use on one of the most popular and frequently sold-out stamps even now, centuries later. Mostly, you remember smiling through a comment about how carefully you must've chosen your husband—as if she hadn't pressured into picking a man other than your husband to gush about.

You would've chosen the Archmage who seemingly had no relation to your husband regardless, but it would've been nice to know ahead of time.

Because you do have eyes, Eliza. That's how you know there isn't a man alive that's more attractive than Clarence.

Still, there hadn't been any deeper meaning when you chose his younger self specifically. There'd been a stamp nearby and you'd used it as a reference, in the hopes that it would help the other ladies downplay your incredible knowledge of his features.

You're almost certain they think you're deranged.

"Clarence." You giggle, suddenly amused. "Clarence. You look very handsome today."

Clumsily, you press a loving kiss to his forehead. Then, to the mole under his eye, to the tip of his nose, to his other cheek, until finally, you kiss him on the lips. At some point, while you're busy being productive, he goes from laying on his side to laying on his back.

"What brought this on?"

He sounds bewildered. You think it's cute.

After taking a moment to compose yourself, you begin to explain. Throughout, he's mostly silent, save for the occasional acknowledgement. Still, you don't have to worry about whether he's listening or not.

Until the very end, his hands—still wrapped around you—give him away.

"I like your long hair just as much, because—" You give him another peck on the lips. "—I love you. No matter what, you're always the best-looking man in the room."

Clarence wastes no time in answering you, though he very nearly chokes on his words. "And I...you."

"Good." Feeling satisfied, you rest your head against his chest. "Do you still want to cut your hair? ...Clarence?"

"I think," he says, clearing his throat. "It's fine the way it is."

You don't try to point out why.

[spacedace]

Must one write a fanfic in order with all the relevant details for the story to make sense?

Can't it just be vibes and a collection of scenes and moments from the vague idea of a plot in whatever order they get written in with some of those scenes being the same scene but Different This Time or actively contradicting other scenes?

Next you're going to tell me I have to actually WRITE the fic for it to be written

[dribs-and-drabbles]

Hey besties.

This is a friendly reminder before tomorrow to

never trust a Thai trailer

especially an Aof Thai trailer.

And especially an Aof Bad Buddy Thai trailer.

You have been warned.

[macbeth-s]

losing it at the ages given for the characters in the promo

[squidpro-quo]

Team Games pt. 2

A/N: A continuation of this au fueled by @abbus-r-us's tags because I was on the floor and dead from them thank you for killing me kindly

“We should be thanking you, Ryuu!” Mitsuki dug into a yakisoba pan with clear relish and nudged Ryuu’s arm with a knee as if to speed his own sandwich on its way. “It was already a lot of batches, and the fanciest stuff you can imagine, but then the extra for getting it done so fast is the biggest we’ve ever scored with an order!”

“You said you couldn’t feel your fingers the next day,” Ryuu said with a wince, the mention of the incident summoning a mass of guilt that hadn’t abated despite a week’s long passing. The edges of it had begun to be consumed by yearning, but the shame of it all had been an effective deterrent. For now. He lowered the yakisoba, tucking it into his pocket unopened now that his stomach had soured with the topic.

“They were just a little burnt, happens all the time. Are you saying you haven’t enjoyed the extra snacks I got with my overtime pay?” 

“You shouldn’t be touching them when they’re still hot,” Iori chided, sipping at his drink slowly. “Did you use the cream I—” 

“Look, Iori,  they’re completely healed! I promise next time we get an order that big I’ll stick to the icing, okay?”

“I could’ve told you it was a posh school though.” Crushing the plastic wrap between his hands, Touma cut in as the brothers devolved into a continuation of their own family squabble. “Got accepted on scholarship, but they pulled the funding at the last minute. Something about ‘my public conduct’ or something. You’re lucky you got out before they caught you.”

“Yeah…” Surprising as it was to hear that Touma would’ve been the one wearing as elegant an outfit as the prince he’d met, the thought of those last words took over. What would the punishment be for someone who’d destroyed an entire party’s catering? If the prince got expelled for helping him, Ryuu needed to set the record straight. 

After the others had gone home, Ryuu stayed to contemplate the ragged shrubbery that had been such a hindrance the first time. He’d gone through once, the second time couldn’t be worse. This illusion only lasted until he took the first step; the fall with all its force and adrenaline had done more for his journey that first time than he’d expected. His jacket, newly repaired with painstaking care, was gaining yet more tears as he fought his way past the sharp edges of broken branches and stubborn thorns. 

The last obstacle was at least new. A flash of yellow was all the warning he had before he found himself clotheslined on a length of silk. Tied across the messy section of the hedge, the silk did nothing except apparently pretty up the eyesore in the school’s garden. Ryuu shrugged out of it with a confused look back, before a far more welcome sight greeted him. 

“You!” The prince waved, grinning as if Ryuu were a long-lost friend and not the one responsible for his no-doubt cruel dethronement. Even his clothes told just such a story. Gone the satin and gold filigree, he was dressed in faded overalls and rubber boots. However, there were still signs of his once-royal origin, his shirt still decorated with ruffles and the ragged sunhat sporting the same pink ribbon as before, perhaps even gardeners needed to be fancy in a place such as this. 

“They’re having you work off your debt?” Ryuu asked, “I need to tell them I did it, please who can I see to explain?” 

“My debt?” The prince cocked his head, lowering the shears in his hands. “Oh, you mean this? I always volunteer for gardening duty in the summer. And I already did the shifts in the kitchen, so don’t worry, you’re in the clear!” 

“You didn’t get thrown out?” 

“I’m sure my father would love to, but if the headmaster’s son gets expelled then it looks bad to prospective parents.” 

“The head…” His rush through the hedge felt pretty foolhardy in the light of those words. His presence wasn’t needed, and now he’d destroyed the hedge even more instead of letting it return to the perfectly manicured state it was meant to be in.

“Did you come through just because you were worried?” the prince asked, an odd expression on his face. Ryuu felt a blush creep across his own at the question, and nodded mutely. 

“My knight on his shining skateboard,”—cutting a rose from the bush he was trimming, the prince offered it to Ryuu—“your chivalry might not be necessary, but you deserve some token of appreciation for coming back.” 

Not a single petal had turned limp or papery yet, it was a rose in the blush of health and still he was being gifted it when it should be in a bouquet at a ball. He held it to his nose to find his next words and found its scent was familiar, a piece of the prince held in his hands. There was too much swirling in his heart now, growing thorny and wild with just a light sprinkle of words. He didn’t deserve to take something so beautiful, he had nothing to offer in return. 

His jacket crinkled as he patted it down, and he held out the yakisoba pan before he could consider how it compared to the fine dining that he’d ruined last time. A few seconds passed and he started pull his hand back when the prince quickly took it, a startled smile on his face.

“Is this in exchange?” 

“I can bring something better next time—”

“So you’ll come again?” The prospect brightened the prince as if he’d gained a spotlight, the sun hitting his face as he pushed the brim of his hat back to wipe his forehead. “When?” 

“W-when will you be here?” Ryuu could figure out how to escape the others’ inevitable ribbing when the time came, it would worth it if whatever was starting to bloom would be watered just once more. 

The prince dimmed as he paused in thought, mouth pulling into a frown after a few seconds. “Only next week, my father’s decided I’m to have extra lessons to…well, keep me occupied. But I’ll find a way to let you know when I’m free.” 

“I’ll be waiting,” Ryuu promised, ducking as he heard a door slam and saw a head of gray start across the garden. 

“Fuck.” The prince chuckled as Ryuu stared at him in surprise. “You should run, that’ll be my father.” 

When he’d reached the safety of the hedge again, Ryuu turned for one last look and was disappointed to find the prince was staring at his shears, the yakisoba hidden away. As if sensing the eyes on him, he met Ryuu’s gaze, an odd determined set to his face. Ryuu curled over the delicate rose and barreled into the hedge with face and heart burning.

Part 3

[dandylovesturtles]

What do the scientists do on the rare occasion they interact with 100 feet Raph?

Initially they tried hard to get him to obey commands, but unlike the other three (who fully understand human speech but just pretend their understanding is limited), Raph legitimately doesn't understand - or rather, he's locked away his understanding so deep under a billion layers of protective dissociation that he functionally doesn't understand.

They tried a lot of different ways of training him, approaching him like a dog, a wild horse, a tiger... basically any way they could think of. None of it worked, because enough of Raph's will is still there and rebelling against them. Now they occasionally (like once or twice a quarter) take him out for "training," but that usually means they just let him loose on some kind of robot or drone and let him hunt it down and "kill" it.

(They tried releasing him on animals, like rabbits or deer, but Raph refused to kill anything cute and fluffy. He'd just lie there and let the animal climb on him or run away.)

They've put him in an enclosure with humans a few times and most of them didn't get away without a pretty good mauling, though he never went all the way to killing anyone.

But most of the time, they just leave him alone, delivering food to him through a chute. About once a month, they come in and tranq him so they can take blood samples and do a health scan.

They're hoping they can figure out a way to clone him or reverse engineer what made him like this so they can make their own little raphs that they train up from hatchlings and hopefully get to obey their orders, but generally he's considered a failed experiment.

Occasionally Turtle Four overhears the scientists talking about disposing of Turtle Three once he gets too big for them to safely keep enclosed. It's part of why he's so desperate to escape sooner rather than later. Leo and Mikey don't know about this, though.

There was one notable "training exercise" where they decided to let him loose on one of the other turtles... unfortunately this did not produce the results they wanted.

Thanks for the ask!

[memorydragon]

Okay, so I know I'm shouting to the void here and you guys probably want mdzs updates instead of my rambling about the more obscure novel that I started reading before mdzs was a blip on my radar, but I'm going mental over here and this is what you're getting.

I'm just so Normal about Jiang Ting saying "Don't test me. I'm on your side." And when I say normal, I mean completely normal levels of Absolute Unhinged.

Because he will fail the test every time.

"Don't test me." When Yan Xie questions him on why he hid the packet of drugs, of course it's suspicious. Of course he lies. (Though is it a lie, that he wanted it for himself, to hide the evidence that will lead Yan Xie further to the truth) The truth will damn him, the lies will damn him, what else can he do?

"Don't test me." When Yan Xie asks why he wasn't tortured by the drug lord when he was captured, he asks back, "Who says I wasn't?" Yan Xie's anger at the lie, at the omission he knows is there was real. But the truth will damn him more, that sensory deprivation was the gentlest form of torture, because why would a drug cartel need to be gentle with a cop?

"Don't test me." When Yan Xie drops a recorder in his pocket to listen in as Jiang Ting interrogates Li Yuxin, and lies to her about being the betrayer, and they're texting right next to each other. He can't help the small panic that Yan Xie had been listening in. Because that was a lie, but it held too much truth, that to be betrayed there had to be relationship before. He failed the test, only to see Yan Xie's final message while waiting outside the operation room, because Yan Xie was dying in the next room, and his message was "What are you afraid about? Why don't you trust I'll help you?"

"Don't test me." When Yan Xie loses his temper and does test him, when he's a little too violent because he's being blocked from investigating and tries to force Jiang Ting to the martyr's cemetery. He apologies to Jiang Ting softly, wiping the water away with a gentleness Jiang Ting doesn't believe he deserves. When his feet are burned because Yan Xie needs answers - answers that he cannot and will not give, despite everything, Yan Xie again apologizes and tends the burns. Yan Xie wasn't in the wrong suspecting him, and he's failed every test, but Yan Xie is the one who apologizes and realizes he's gone too far. Except he hadn't gone far enough to get to the truth that would have Jiang Ting fail once again.

"Don't test me." When Bu Wei jumps off the bridge and tries to take Jiang Ting with her. He sees too much of himself in her - Yan Xie sees too much of Jiang Ting in her - but he'd let her go to save himself. Except then she jumped and that wasn't how it was supposed to end, because there had to be something after the realization that the worst betrayal wasn't being left behind. When he looks at Yan Xie and tells him it's up to you. To turn Jiang Ting in or not, to believe him or not please, don't believe him he'll accept whatever Yan Xie decides he is, a traitor or friend. He cannot trust, cannot give his faith, and it's up to Yan Xie to decide if he can still accept that.

(And that's a whole different rant about how Jiang Ting cannot define himself, how he can only mold himself into what other people want him to be, say what they want him to say, because the only time he tried to choose who he wanted to be, his whole team died and he was left in a coma for three years. I'll be Unhinged about that in a perfectly normal way another day)

"I'm on your side." When Yan Xie has seen the orphanage's records, followed the evidence to it's natural conclusion, that all the times Jiang Ting had lied and omitted to save himself were finally exposed. Yan Xie has deleted the only picture of Jiang Ting on his phone and has already broken his own heart when Jiang Ting asks, "Do you still believe in me? - It's better you don't."

"I'm on your side." When he kisses Yan Xie after all the cards are on the table, as tears run down Yan Xie's face while the King of Spades watches for any flaw. He points a gun at Yan Xie's head, ready to pull the trigger that will keep Yan Xie from coming after him and tells the truth for the first time. "I love you, Yan Xie." In front of his adoptive family of drug lords, in front of the man who betrayed him and that took him in as a brother, in front of the bodies of the people he had just mercilessly shot down, as the Queen of Hearts, whose own heart is enchained by hatred and thorns caused by the drugs he can't escape, he tells the truth, which can only be accepted as a lie.

"I'm on your side." When Yan Xie finds the evidence that Chief Lu is lying, that Jiang Ting went undercover to get rid of the drug cartel once and for all and he realizes that his wavering faith in Jiang Ting was expected. That he was the one who failed that time, even though it was necessary for the King of Spades to take Jiang Ting back. That despite that, Jiang Ting had still left him a way out and saved his life. And Yan Xie is going to drag Jiang Ting home, no matter how dangerous.

"I'm on your side." When Jiang Ting asks him, "why are you here?" when Yan Xie holds him and kisses him softly after nearly dying because he was exposed, and Yan Xie replies that no matter how harsh the betrayal - the truth - he couldn't love Jiang Ting less. That just because Jiang Ting pointed a gun at his head, didn't make Yan Xie miss him less. (You want to talk about scenes that make Mem absolutely feral, this is one.) He has to go back under cover, he has to leave again, but Yan Xie will drag him back.

"Don't test me." One last test. Yan Xie tells him to jump, that they are either going to get out of this together or die together. Yan Xie refuses to let him fail this time. No matter what, he won't leave without Jiang Ting. I'll be by your side, because living is harder than dying.

And Jiang Ting jumps.

[anemoa]

I told him he's got that manfred von karma drip and now i have to die

while coloring i remembered a dream i had a while back where i saw two sabo memes, since the drawing had the same color scheme as the first one

although he was standing in that one and tipping his head while his hand was on fire or something, i still added the caption to it (and it seems to be more fitting)

for the second one not even dream me had any idea what it meant but i found it hilarious (why is he in super smash bros ??)

[solradguy]

Every time I see a Sol cosplayer mentally I'm like *pushes them out of the way* show me the sword please show me the Outrage Fire Junkyard Seal Dog II III I'm begging you