#my heart cannot handle

[she-wu]

devastating soonyoung pic of the day </3

[wield-the-mighty-pen]

IM NOT CRYING YOU ARE FJKDSLJFAKSLFJKLA NOBODY LOOK AT ME DSAL;DKASL;DKASL

[georgiasbrainstuff]

When I miss the 'Major Character Death' warning or 'Unhappy Ending' tag in a fic

[space-sheep08]

Actually so tired that people mainly focus on the bdsm when they talk about La Pianiste when we literally have this dynamic right here. Like, that's insane.

What if you were a little girl in her 40's who couldn't grow up because of your mother-wife who made you sleep in her bed and forced you to repress every sexual desires and thoughts of becoming your own person just to keep you close to her ? What if you fought back and yearned for dangerous things out of her reach ? But also, what if you let her because it's all you've ever known and been taught to want ?

[breadhalfburnt]

succumbing to the summer weather out here

[theladyyavilee]

'it wasn't your fault [...] don't blame yourself, you had the full right to love and want a future with him [...] you deserve love, just like anyone'

you don't understand, I am UNDONE AND DEVASTATED BEYOND WORDS, THIS SCENE IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE OH MY GOD

he holds him so gently, my man style just out here casually proving that he truly understands fadel 'there's no one out there who wants the best for you more than I do' and that he loves fadel for who he is

[heartistii]

currently playing aa spirit of justice and i was so sad about the final design the chose for rayfa, her concept art was so gorgeous!!! this one was one of my favourites and i really wanted to draw it 🦋

[britcision]

My friends of Dungeon Meshi

I have a gift for you and it is IRL Laios and Senshi

Someone gave this lovely Korean couple a supermarket that will sell them American cheese 100 slices at a time and I just… yeah it’s them

They have also acquired ostrich eggs and on the one hand they are the perfect people to have them and I’m delighted they did but on the other hand it does feel like someone should be trying to stop them

Not succeeding. Just… trying

I now feel a very visceral understanding for Marcille and Chilchuck’s experience because I am watching in mild horror but I would also have no choice but to try it given the chance

Note: if you’re gonna be a chickenshit about unusual ingredients you haven’t eaten before your Laios or Senshi fan card will immediately be revoked I do make the rules

There’s a bunch of fascinating things they’re doing with tripe and organs and things I’ve never eaten and absolutely none of it gives me the visceral urge to run of boiling noodles in American cheese

Also their mayo is in The World’s Worst Squeeze Bottle it looks like tentacles and it gives me inverse ASMR so watch with caution for shit to get weird but none of you are gonna embarrass this fandom by saying something like “oh gross guts”

The channel is called Try To Eat and I’m not gonna lie I have complete faith in their abilities to eat absolutely anything they want to

[deadchannelradio]

my fanfiction abortion morgue is gaining another jayroy victim that is not long enough to clean up for ao3. this was going to be a very long and meandering noodle about in the river that is jason's mental health and trauma and relationships of all types and healing and the asexual/aromantic spectrum (not that that's the verbage jason would use or language hes even aware of) and low sex drives all that beautiful muck and mire but i have not put a single word on it in well over a year now. so i'm letting her go. be free little fish.

-

They’re better now, anyways, better than they ever were before. Jason had a crisis a few months back, stopping himself from reaching reflexively for his phone to give Dick a call about- nothing important. And then he had realized that he had reflexively gone to call Dick about nothing important, and had gone and stared out the window for 15 minutes, trying to work himself into a different, less horrifying conclusion than the one gathering in his brain like an avalanche. Roy had come home in the middle of it, taken one look at his face and dropped his bag on the floor with a thunk.

“Holy shit,” he said. “Who died?”

“I like him,” Jason said, somewhere between incredulous and horrified. “That cunt, that motherfucker- he made me actually like him-,”

“Who?”

“Dick!” Jason had shouted. “That piece of shit, I want to spend time with him, hours out of my actual human life that I can’t get back-,”

Roy had proceeded to laugh in his face for a solid ten minutes, positively gleeful about Jason’s horrible emotional crisis. “He does that to you, man,” he said once they’d settled in, still chuckling as he cracked open a can of soda, posted up on their couch with Ethiopian takeout in his lap. “One minute you’re sitting there thinking oh my god, this guy, he’s so loud and annoying-,”

“And he never fuckin’ stops moving,” Jason groaned from his spot laying on the floor below him. “His body or his mouth. And he chews loud, he’s obnoxious on purpose, and he’s a model and dated Kory but half the time he dresses like something a goodwill dumpster threw up-,”

“Have you seen his new shoes?” Roy asked. “I dress like dogshit, man, but those things-,”

“Wally got them for him,” Jason said, and then immediately slapped his hands over his face, horrified that he knew that. Roy laughed again. “He’s constantly in your fuckin’ business! Constantly! Last time I saw him he knew the social security numbers of the baristas in the coffee shop I’d been going to-,”

“He gets enabled,” Roy muttered, shoveling injera into his mouth.

“He gets enabled!” Jason said. “Everyone enables him! I enable him! And god, his fucking- puns, man, his quips, we’re all guilty of it but this is a fight, not comedy hour, and even if it was you’d get booed off the stage-,”

“He texted me what he said to Mr. Freeze two weeks ago and I wanted to eat my phone,” Roy said. “It’s amazing no villains kill themselves after he hands their asses to them, I would be humiliated.”

“He sucks!” Jason snapped. 

“He sucks,” Roy agreed. “And then you look around one day at your life-,”

“And you go oh shit, I think this motherfucker’s alright!” Jason mimed hitting himself in the face with Roy’s abandoned house slipper. “Fuck! What’s fucking wrong with me?”

Roy laughed at him, again. “Dick Grayson Derangement Syndrome gets us all in the end,” he said. Jason curled a hand around his bare ankle, and Roy looked down to smile at him, the smallest touch making his whole face bloom open like a rose. Jason had to look away from it, wanting to say: stop. No. You know I’m not enough. You know I’m not like you. You know I can’t give you enough.

He’s been wanting to say that a lot, these days. Toss Roy off the sinking ship with a lifeboat before he has to wake up one day, years on, and realize he’s wasted years with Jason, who can’t love that loud.

He wanted to call Dick about it, which was another horrible realization. Hi big bird, I’m having boy problems. Dick would probably tell him that it means more that Jason has to try, that wanting to try for it is selfless, makes it more significant, which is the kind of thinking that lands a motherfucker in bed with Barbara Gordon, who is enough like Jason to warrant a comparison, but not enough to call her and ask what he should do. Babs loves like the Bolton Strid, and sometimes Jason isn’t sure he loves at all. Not like that.

Jason isn’t nearly as selfless as Dick is convinced he is, not deep down. Because he doesn’t want to let Roy go at all.

It’s late, well into the witching hours, and they’re laying in bed in what was formerly Roy’s bedroom but now holds them both, blinds cracked to let the streetlights through. Jason doesn’t like the dark. Roy’s threatening to buy an eyemask. Jason thinks it’s stupid to blind yourself to potential attackers. Neither of them have brought up going back to sleeping separately. Roy’s nose is pressed between Jason’s shoulder blades, breath humid through his shirt. Not asleep yet, but close. Jason’s books are proliferating on Roy’s shelves, his boxers in Roy’s laundry basket, garrotte wires coiled next to bow strings on the desk that has framed photos, past-Jason’s mouth a little white slash in the bar of orange streetlamp.

Something is clawing at the inside of Jason’s chest, scrabbling like a wild little animal. Trying to dig its way through his spine, into Roy. It hurts.

He shifts, turns over, pushes Roy over onto his back and rolls on top of him, propped up on his elbows to look down at him. Roy grunts, half-awake and confused, but takes his weight. He blinks blearily up at Jason, a crease between his eyebrows- Jason must look intense right now. “Jaybird?” he starts, quiet.

Jason knows this feeling- as all-consuming as it is- is fleeting. It’ll be gone in the morning, and he’ll forget it was ever here. He won’t be able to recall its bite until it comes back around again, like Halley’s comet. He should say something now, while he has it. While he feels it. So Roy can know it’s real. He just doesn’t know how to describe it.

“Jase,” Roy says, sounding more concerned, “Jason, what’s-,”

“Something in here,” Jason interrupts, putting a hand on his own chest, a thudding sound of muscle on muscle, “Wants to eat you.” God, he feels dumb. He’s not good at this, he sounds so much better in his head. His words come out of his mouth sour and curdled and stupid, there’s a reason he doesn’t try to talk about this shit-

Roy lights up, slow at first, then all at once, his face creasing up in his smile like old paper, following familiar folds. Jason feels his toes curl next to his calves, his feet pointing and flexing in excitement. Jason wishes he could make himself smile back, anything other than the dead-eyed concentration he knows he’s wearing right now, but the weight in his ribs is too real and too wild for that- if his teeth come out this might get literal. He wants to crack open Roy’s sternum with his bare hands, climb in like a contortionist and slam it shut behind him.

“Really?” Roy asks, small and soft and giddy. Jason nods, serious. Roy’s teeth dig into his bottom lip, smiling so wide his nose is wrinkling up, little inky lines in the artificial twilight. “Cool,” he says. 

Jason’s hands spasm in the sheets next to Roy’s head. “Roy,” he starts, “Can I-,” stops. Doesn’t know what he wants. Maybe just to look at him until the sun comes up, just to watch the light turn his freckles from a smear in the dim to pinprick-sized marigolds. Maybe to go to sleep on him like this, the thunder of his heart under Jason’s cheek. Maybe he wants everything. Maybe he wants to be the greediest son of a bitch in Gotham. 

“You can do anything,” Roy promises, and the sincerity in his voice makes the thing chewing on Jason’s lungs shake. “Anything you want. I’ll let you do everything.”

Jason drops his head against Roy’s chest with a grunt like he’s just been punched, unable to choke it back. He pushes himself up- Roy makes a quiet, sad noise, grabbing for him- and fumbles the bedside lamp on. He wants to see everything. Roy’s pupils are huge, even in the light he’s flinching from, irises that strange half-color, too dark for blue or green and too flat for hazel and too light to be brown. His cowlick’s sending his hair in every direction at the left temple, and he’s still smiling at Jason, like he can’t help it. Jason doesn’t know what to do, now that he’s here. A restaurant with an infinite menu. What he wants is strange, probably. Not how normal people want things, not what they want. Jason is off-putting, sometimes on purpose, frequently not, and he doesn’t know how this will come across. But Roy said he could have anything. Whatever he wanted. Giving up all of himself, for nothing. For free. 

Jason should take it. Roy will stop him, if he needs it. He puts his mouth on the cowlick, not a kiss, tucks his nose into Roy’s hair and breathes in deep. The nothing-smell of hair that’s not clean but not dirty. Roy’s hands are pressing into his lats, his legs spreading and crossing behind Jason’s thighs, holding him there. Jason curls both his hands around Roy’s skull, presses gently, cradling his head- all of Roy is in there, somehow, and he needs to be careful with it. His skull feels too small to hold something so important, too fragile. 

Jason drags his thumbs over his eyebrows, presses a thumbnail into the scar bisecting the left one- string snap, Roy told him, nearly took that eye out. Roy’s looking up at him still, and they’re close enough that Jason could count his eyelashes, if he wanted. He runs his fingers over Roy’s ears, feeling the cartilage, gently pinches the flesh of his earlobe, over the hole where he used to have gauges. He moves down to Roy’s neck, puts his hands around his throat, doesn’t squeeze. He feels it when Roy’s breath hitches. Roy shuts his eyes, swallows, his Adam's apple moving under Jason’s palms. 

Jason bites him where his neck meets his shoulder, hard. He thinks about being normal, trying to make it a hickey- but Roy jerks hard beneath him with a strangled noise and that thing in Jason’s chest makes him hold that position until Roy stops moving, until the bolt of his jaw aches. He lets go, spit shining around the deep purple indents in Roy’s skin. Roy lets out a shaking breath, eyes still shut.

Roy already knows he’s an inscrutable freak, Jason decides. He’s going to do everything he’s ever looked at Roy and thought about doing, everything he thought might be weird that he’s ever refrained from. Roy won’t run.

If he does, well. Jason will chase him. Roy is the one who said he was locking Jason down, said nobody in or out. He can’t get too mad if Jason takes him up on it.

He presses his nose near Roy’s armpit. The sharp, live smell of his sweat in Jason’s lungs, muted by whatever axe deodorant he uses that always makes Jason think of a cold wet morning. He rubs his mouth over Roy’s deltoid, teeth dragging. Jason pushes up and kneels with his thighs on either side of Roy’s torso, picks up an arm, runs his hands over Roy’s bicep, digs his thumbs into his elbow. Puts Roy’s thumb in his mouth, tastes skin and salt, bites the draw calluses on his fingers, gentle. Does the other arm too, to keep it even. Roy’s breathing slow and even, looking at Jason again as he shoves his mouth into Roy’s wrist until he can feel the pulse against his lower lip. Roy’s trying to caress his face with that hand, can’t quite manage more than a brush of his fingertips against Jason’s ear. 

Jason knows what he should say here. What he hasn’t been saying, because he knows it’s not the same as how Roy will say it, thinking that it will somehow be a lie because the meaning’s different. But it’s words, which are only stories. There is nothing in a story that is a lie, and no analysis that is wrong, with supporting evidence. Which Jason has, which Jason has always had. Roy at his right shoulder. Never wanting anyone else at his back. Saying to Dick: if there wasn’t Roy, there wouldn’t be anybody. The way they keep finding each other at the lowest of lows, facedown in bottles or looking down barrels of guns to see if they can spot the bullet. Standing there feeling stupid in the holes they’ve dug, pickaxes in hand, before turning and finding the other, just as deep as they are. Saying: gimme a boost and I’ll give you a hand.

Even if he doesn’t mean it in the same way, he means it. I want you, I want you, I want you. The inflection changes the meaning, but only by the barest degrees. 

“I love you,” Jason says, and he’s not lying, because he means them, even if it’s not always how he thinks he should.

[qhostcaptain]

ghosts is all over tomorrow ☹️

I am far more than heartbroken im gonna miss them so much I really do hope they do more projects some day

[minniiaa]

drowned rat luffy looking so much like ace is so not fair don’t do this to me

[messrsrarchives]

there is nothing "natural" about the fires in LA right now. from 200 acres to 2000 in twenty minutes, on land that has never burnt before, in january.

no matter how much the media says it is, this is not a "natural disaster". this is a direct result of western politician's complicity in genocide and climate terrorism.

i have seen more videos in the last half an hour of this "natural disaster" than i have at all of the scenes in gaza over the christmas period. where medical workers were stripped and led out of the last 'functioning' hospital - a hospital that was subsequently bombed and set on fire. of the car with 5 journalists inside that was set on fire, 5 of countless people that have been burnt alive by israel. time and time again we have seen palestinians be led to a new "safe zone" only to then have bombs dropped on their tents and for them too to be burnt alive. over and over and over again.

and that's not to play the oppression olympics or to downplay the effect that this is having on individual lives, of course not, but it is to point of the irony and hypocrisy in this being framed as "natural" and in everybody (politicians, celebrities, online LA influencers) coming forward to share links.

this is not a "natural" disaster:

in the first 120 days after october 7th, the planet-warming emissions in gaza exceeded that of the ANNUAL emissions of the top 26 climate-vulnerable countries (individually).

the first 60 days of israel's genocidal actions was equivalent to burning at least 150,000 tonnes of coal.

by december 4th 2023, 133,000 tonnes of C02 was emitted just from the us cargo planes transporting military equipment to israel.

on october 11th, white phosphorus was used for the first time in gaza - this has a long-term environmental impact on the environment, human health, and agricultural land.

every 7 minutes, 1 ton of explosives is dropped on gaza.

by march 2024, nearly half of the tree cover and farmland in gaza had been destroyed.

in june 2024, gaza was declared an environmental wasteland that was insufficient to support human life.

it is estimated that the rebuilding of gaza's infrastructure will emit 30 million metric tonnes of greenhouse gases - every 4 minutes, 1 housing unit is bombed by israel.

in the middle east, temperatures are rising on average twice as fast as the rest of the world.

in the first two years of russia's war against ukraine, the emissions produced were greater than the annual emissions generated individually by 175 countries.

by june 2024, russia's attacks had generated a minimum of 175 metic tonnes of carbon dioxide equivalent (includes C02, nitrous oxide and sulphur hexafluoride) - see here: russia deliberately targetting energy infrastructure, generating about 14 metric tonnes as a result of the methane released.

and this is just a handful of never-ending statistics.

at COP28 there were no outcome documents that mentioned the contribution of military activities on climate change. not one. COP29 did not discuss this either.

the reporting of military emissions to the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change is optional. most do not do this.

biden has approved another $8b in arms sales to israel.

the LAFD had $17.6m cut from their budget.

there's a saying that goes along the lines of "when you are born into a burning house, you think the rest of the world is on fire so you don't bother calling for help" and i've been thinking about that a lot today. thinking a lot about palestine, the middle east, ukraine, every genocide and war torn country that has been screaming to be saved from their burning homes, and now the same american politicians, celebrities, and online influencers that covered their ears are starting to get flamed too.

there is nothing natural about anything that is going on in the world right now. these are not natural wildfires, this is the result of complicity in genocide. it's literally climate terrorism.

[respectthepetty]

Me on a Wednesday after experiencing another week of Jack & Joker, Reverse 4 You, and Peaceful Property not letting up.

In my Big Freedia voice, "They did not come to play with you hoes!"

[r0tt1ngr4bb1t]

GUYS I'M CRYINBG

[mitskiluvr]

replaying mystic messenger is so crazy because why am i gentle parenting these grown men and teaching them how to handle their feelings

[agentnatesewell]

Comparing twc holiday magic A (A-initiated) route kisses

Agency route

Elf Route

A kiss so passionate and perfect that it makes my mind over heart always in control of her feelings Layla cry? Oh, we are so deep - I need to lay down