#idk 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

[artist-rat]

some epilogue vibes (an excuse to draw some hugs. and my durge so many times)

[raynewolferune]

DC x DP Prompt: Bruce is bad at emoting but at least ghosts are empathic (too bad bat kids are not)

Was reading Twincognito on AO3 when I stumbled across this gem again:

~

" “Danny, Tim. I was just…checking in. Is everything alright?” Curse his inability to make meaningful conversation when it wasn’t a life or death situation.

They glanced at each other and shrugged.

Then Danny hauled himself out of the bed and walked over to Bruce.

Bruce tried not to let too much excitement show on his face. "

~

Now I really want to read a story where Bruce adopts Danny post Meta trafficking and is being his usual emotionally constipated self. His kids keep getting mad at him because he's treating their new meta brother who was trafficked poorly (generally being stilted in conversation with him, walking away hurriedly mid-conversation, avoiding Danny when he's feeling really awkward, etc). They think Bruce is discriminating against Danny for being a civilian, meta, dealer's pick, but really it's just Bruce being horribly socially awkward. Danny knows this because of ghost empathy and find the whole thing hilarious. The whole thing comes to a head with the Bat Kids staging an intervention in the Bat Cave.

[squidpedia]

You’ll figure it out

(Please ask for permission before reposting onto other sites or dubbing, thank you!)

[larentslovechaos]

i've only been talking to this guy for a week but ugh he is so wonderful

[nat-20s]

Something something about like. Russell T Davies lost his husband in the time between his runs as Doctor Who showrunner. About how he said if he had a time machine he says he would go back to the night he first met him. About how joy is about having enough time to spend with the people you love. And about how while RTD can't have that for himself he can give that relief of grief to The Doctor.

[potassiumprincess]

i think marinette is worse at resting when she's sick but adrien is worse at sitting things out if he's injured. i have no explanation, these are just the vibes

[factual-fantasy]

After making this post with Bulkhead and Wheeljack, I wanted to try drawing the bots in my colored line art style in hopes the characters would pop a bit more.

Some hours later and this piece is finally done! I personally think the colored lines were a success! But MAN did this take a long time to draw.😩I will either have to just be extra patient when drawing the bots, or will have to start testing out those simplified redesigns ideas I have floating around 😅

[sainz100]

2024 Brazilian GP | x

[housecow]

seeing you outright mention you have death feedism tendencies is like a shotgun to the chest (positive)

i have a medical phobia that’s somehow twisted itself into death feedism ngl. also, evil feeders. 😳

someone hellbent on keeping me as fat as possible for as long as they can—knowing what cocktail of drugs keeps my heart pumping, dumbing me down and keeping me pliant with edibles hidden in my food, waking me up every few hours for feedings and funnel sessions instead of letting me sleep so the weight piles on faster than it should..

somewhere deep down i know it’s not good for me. maybe my feeder tells me about all the health problems i have while the feeding tube is in my mouth and i can barely think, but i can’t focus on what they’re saying without getting overwhelmed. if i don’t remember later, it doesn’t really matter, right?

maybe occasionally i’d “come to my senses,” during a lull in the feedings. when my feeder is busy and away for a while, after i’ve made my way through a small mountain of snacks and the mini fridge (full of shakes laced with THC to keep me docile) is just out of reach. maybe i’d try to get up, only to collapse back down because my knee problems finally caught up to me and fuck, it hurts to even try to walk. maybe then i’d finally take a look at where i am, how i’ve given up my life for someone’s (and my own, let’s be real) sick pleasure.

i’d have to deal with that realization for a while. maybe i’d start to cry, unable to handle the reality. eventually, though, my feeder would come back. they’d find me in this state and console me, getting the funnel ready because they can hear my stomach rumbling and it’s been too long since i’ve eaten. they’ll coo into my ear about how it’s all okay, how i asked for this and it’s what we both want.

they’d give my belly a shake, grasping the lowest roll in their hands and enjoying the way it makes my entire body wobble. they’d press a kiss onto the vast expanse of fat above my belly button, an area they were so excited to see expand under their care. they’d struggle a bit to lift one of my tits, eager to see how my breath hitches at the thought of their mouth on me. these are all distractions. they’ve mastered this game of manipulation and there’s no way i’d be able to find my way out of their control. their touch, the food they offer me, even those moments when i’m not high or in a haze of fullness and pleasure, were meant to further ensnare me and ensure i’m theirs for as long as i live.

my health, my life, is in my feeder’s hands. they know what’s best. as long as i keep eating, keep taking the pills they hand me, keep ignoring how hard it is to move and breathe, it will all be fine. or, that’s what i’d tell myself.

[kira-loves0905]

lads x reader! [mentions of death] [can be seperate or together...?]

it was another day of gathering intel from him. the knob swiftly opens for you to paddle inside the cage the Praedator was in. he was sat on his usual place, body language high and mighty. the smirk drawling on his lips as he sees your figure walking towards him. but then, the expression falls, eyes zoning on the tell-tale purple bruise on your waist— courtesy of your rather revealing outfit.

"who hurt you?"

he growls, clenching his fists. your steps faltering at the sudden aura he emanates.

"I believe that is none of your issue-"

"it is, you see." he interjects before you could finish. "I'll repeat my question, darling. who?"

he mostly didn't mind the chains that bounded him on this interrogation chair. in fact, he barely wastes his strength on fighting against it: his posture always relaxed.

but seeing that bruise triggers something within his insanity. he doesn't know why he feels like it, the urge was strong to pull you towards him. to caress the taint mark that someone must've left on your skin.

you see the way he now strains against the chair. his muscles taut and veiny, gritting his teeth at how you just stood there. as if that injury was nothing for you, but to him it felt as if the world was already ending.

why is that? why did he feel the urge to do so?

"it's.. another Praedator." you forced a reply, or else the scientists in the facility might make another metal chair modified for his strength with how he's tugging all his might, "it was just careless of me. so I ought to not approach people like you too close for today."

"..w..what?"

left dumbfounded on your revelation, the straining stops.

"indeed," you nod a tad awkwardly at his odd expression. standing a few feet away, you brought out your materials needed to interrogate him. "let's start."

as the intel goes on, you were perplexed at his sudden compliance. he would've dumped all the information he has if it wasn't for the shred of pride he has left. heck, you hadn't even use much of the devices you brought.

shaking his behaviour as part of his... symptoms. you packed up your things, your movements careful and meticulous to avoid aggravating your injury any longer.

turning around to the door, you winced slightly at the inevitable ache. about to leave and treat the wound when..

"princess." he beckons your attention, "i've given you intel. yet you still insist not telling me who left that mark. least you could do was return a favor.. hm?"

"it was... that burly man down the hall," you said vaguely, heeding no mind. might as well entertain him, right? if it makes him obey and give more information then you don't mind.

oh how wrong you were.

the next day, there was an uproar of a sudden dead Praedator. no one knows who had done it. the execution flawless with no strings left behind. but the smirking man you've known for a while, with chains suspiciously broken only seen up close may know a thing or two..

[blingblandart]

hes trying to help her modify her knitting pattern

[seiwas]

you wear katsuki’s clothes to bed.

among all your cotton and silk pajamas, you prefer the thinning fabric of his faded tees. there are holes in some of them, just a few more seams away from their undoing as they fit far too large on you—but that’s why you love them.

they’re comfy and worn; lived in with love from the man that you love. when katsuki is gone for days or weeks at a time, you find his warmth intertwined within the threads of his t-shirts. when the fabric presses against your back, the bed doesn’t feel nearly as empty as it is.

(though it can never replace him. nothing can, you fear.)

“hoggin’ all my shirts,” he tuts, but you know it means nothing. the roll of white fabric is neatly folded unto itself, its crisp corners unfurling once handed over.

you giggle, shaking off its folds and fitting the hem right over your head. from the corner of your eye, you see katsuki’s gaze, watching you wrangle the fabric over you as the towel wrapped around your body slowly drops to the floor.

he turns away then, a little too quickly, a little too abruptly. if you look at him now, you’re sure you’ll find flushed cheeks and crimson eyes burning in shame for wanting you so inopportunely.

“guess you’ll just have to take me with it then.”

[kingkatsuki]

Thinking about a random villain attack happening in the city one Friday night when you’re out partying with friends at a local dive bar, and you end up getting caught in the crossfire when a blast knocks a chunk of a wall crashes down around you and traps your leg. Knocking your head when it hits the pavement as you cry out in pain, and people act like they can’t even see you as they flee the scene.

But Bakugou and Kirishima happen to be at another bar across the street, off duty after a long double shift as the carnage happens. Racing outside to assist the other sidekicks and Pro’s that are now on the scene as Bakugou spots you laying trapped beneath the rubble.

And usually he would’ve left you to someone else, another hero or sidekick can race over to check that you’re okay and reassure you that ambulances are on the way— but he sees the look of fear in your eyes and he finds himself racing over to you. Moving the rubble from your leg with ease, but not attempting to move you as he crouches down beside you, lifting your head from the ground as he winces at the wetness that sticks to his palm as he cradles your head so delicately.

“Hey, hey—” He rasps, his voice harsh as he tries to get you to calm down, “You’re gonna be okay, yeah.”

“Please don’t leave me.” Tears tumble down your temples now as the medics circle around you, assessing your injuries before moving you onto a stretcher.

Bakugou’s never heard that request from someone before, he’s never stuck around someone long enough for the medics to arrive and move someone onto a stretcher.

And he can feel the slight grip you keep on his hand as the stretcher begins to roll, his feet following beside it as if on instinct as he walks towards the ambulance with you until you reach the open doors.

But he hesitates — It’s as though all those memories from when he was a teenager come flooding back as he remembers everything that happened to him before.

So he just stands there and watches you get placed into the ambulance, stoic as the sirens cry out and the lights begin to flash.

“Hey man, you okay?” Kirishima claps his shoulder and Bakugou is still standing in place.

“M’fine.” He shrugs his shoulder to move Kirishima’s hand as he watches you drive away.

And he doesn’t sleep that night. Tossing and turning as your terrified face plays in his mind, the soft sound to your voice when you begged him to stay with you. He hates himself for not going.

He knows he should go to the hospital to check if you’re okay, to sit with you like you’d asked him to. But he’s got another shift in less than four hours, and he doesn’t even know your name.

He doesn’t even know if you’re still alive.

But even then he makes no attempt to move as he lays motionless in bed staring at the ceiling, trying to get the image of your terrified eyes peering up at him out of his head.

[comatomato]

pretty soldier boy 🩵

Gladiator AU Charles my love~

When tell you i struggled to find a ref picture of this man looking appropriately menacing. (Thx everyone who tried to help me btw 😭)

So now instead i’m leaning into it and making him a pookie bb forced to fight. 🙂‍↕️✨

Also check out my Gladiator AU Max

For more art follow me over on my Instagram

For more F1 shenanigans follow me @inchidentalmeowmeow

[usercelestial]

anyone else still sad

[clefdesoll]

fun episode :3 also more conans bc he has no business being this fun to draw