#oof.... yeah

[fruitycircus]

another tf2 oc i've had in mind since last may and only got to draw properly now, here's minnie!!!

[magicomens]

Ah yes. Anthony Justdontgetstabbed Crowley.

First >> Prev >> Next

[charcoaldustonmyfingers]

Same as it Never Was

Thought I’d give drawing these sad old men a go. Rip

[luxurystark-jackson]

“i spent all that time trying to get through to you. dean calls once and now it’s hello??”

*uninterested* “yes”

“so, what, you like him better or something?”

“dean and i do share a more profound bond”

gay people really can’t confess their love normally they gotta say shit like “profound bond”

[technically-human]

Ooh, now that we’ve seen N!Edwin and DP!Edwin talk about Feelings could we see the same with N!Charles and DP!Charles?

As simple as that.

Edwins version

ko-fi

[hippydippydruid]

Imagine being a child, and your whole family dies, and it’s just you and your dad. And he starts locking himself in his office, claiming he has work to do, so you sit and you wait and you grieve. And then one day your mother is there like nothing ever happened, making breakfast and cleaning the house and homeschooling you just like she used to. And your dad is acting like this is completely normal. And this works for a while, but then this twisted version of your mom stops just cooking breakfast and cleaning the house and begins trying to have hobbies. And suddenly your mother is gone again and there is a new mom in the kitchen the next morning. And you realize that you will never get the closure of fully losing your mother, but you will also never get the satisfaction of having her back. And soon your mother, who used to adore you, is pampering these two new children that behave so well and aren’t sad and angry like the poor little .5. And you watch as every new version of your dead mother begins to view you with more and more disdain as you look into the lifeless eyes of a woman who used to sing you songs before bed every night, and you know there is no one who will ever believe you. Imagine being Timmy Trout.

[kenchann]

a lost shade...

[bald-and-handsome]

🥵🥵🥵

[hallowshumour]

I'm kinda like if a condemned radio tower started broadcasting weird signals out of nowhere but as a guy 📡🎙📶🛰

[salamispots]

honse (kinda forgot about posting this here haha)

[cheese-water]

Generation Loss is a comedic tragedy in every sense of the word. Every character we see exemplifies this fact, but no one other than The Austin Show proves its truth.

We begin at the carousel. Austin, Gay, takes his turn by pleading for himself to live because he has a wife and children back home. The rest of the cast interrogates him about his “wife and kids,” clearly suspicious of his truthfulness without even knowing his dubbed “title.” Everyone in the room treats Austin like a joke.

In turn, so do we.

Next, we reach the closet and shortly after the failed drag show, Austin remarks, “Look, I uh… I didn’t expect to die here.” It’s a moment of pure honesty, whether we like it or not. It happens again when the Puzzler tries to party with them, and Austin has to angrily remind him that they are his captives and are actively trying to kill them.

Austin: “What are you doing? What are you doing? What are you doing? We're trying to get out of here. I have children and wives— wife. One wife! What is this some sort of game? I’ve been stuck in hear for hours it seems. We’re trying to get out. Why is nobody else freaking out? We’ve got C4 strapped to our neck…”

It isn’t until Ethan’s death, his blood pooling out from underneath the door, Austin screaming at the others, begging them to have a reaction, to care about their circumstances, to care about death, that we finally understand Austin’s role in Generation Loss.

After all, in every great comedy, someone always has to play the straight man.

[junewild]

Watching Sam & Brennan talk about the beauty of frivolity, of adults playing silly games just as seriously as they fight to survive, and... yeah. There are some things that keep us alive, and there are some things that make life worth living, and I think games are one of those things that fall into both categories. Games make our lives better and they make us better at being alive. I think that's pretty cool.

[swampybogg]

[tblsomedoodles]

The Preferable Alternative - Part 21

Start - Previous - next (not yet)

It's back : )

[mimikyuno]

tears in my mizuena eyes

rough translation (my bad japanese + google translate lol)

mizuki: even so… is that really okay even for someone like me [to want to be friends / want to be with you]*…

ena: i told you, it’s not about whether it’s okay or not. that is something you get to decide for yourself.

ena: i’m sorry, i’m tired of running around…

mizuki: !!

ena: *falls to the ground*

mizuki: me too…

mizuki: even if it’s a bother, even if i hate it… i want to be together! i want to start feeling like it’s always okay to be together!

ena: then…

ena: let’s be together, mizuki… everyone in niigo is waiting for you.

*in the lines before this one, mizuki cries about wanting to still be with ena and niigo and be their friend, but now she won’t be able to be the kind of friend she wants to be (as she feels like a bother, for she fears they will have to walk on eggshells around her and people will talk etc.). the acting Floored me btw satohina how dare u…

[absolute-flaming-trash]

Pairing: Yandere!Mahito x Disabled!Reader

SFW

Word Count: 1172

Warnings: Yandere, Kidnapping, Confinement, Ableism (what else do we expect from him), Invasion of personal space, Stockholm Syndrome (if you squint), Reader uses a cane to walk, Reader suffers from chronic pain.

Additional Notes: Mahito has feelings he doesn't understand.

“Why are you broken?”

The sentence wasn’t an unfamiliar one. In fact, it was one you’d grown quite accustomed to over the years, in all manner of phrasings, but the sting of it never lessened.

‘I’m not’ is what you wanted to say - to insist that nothing was wrong with you, but such a bald-faced lie would do nothing for you.

“I just am.” You replied, not looking up from the thread you were pulling at in your nest - piles of discarded clothing and fabrics Mahito had no use for. It was makeshift bedding that did little to aid the pain you experienced on a daily basis.

Mahito’s whine caused you to look up in time to see him roll his eyes at your answer, his unsatisfied huff blowing a few strands of his bangs out of his face.

“Yes, I know that.” He bent at the waist, arms extended out, and propped up on the handle of your cane as he rested his weight on it in front of you. For a moment you were reminded of a noir film star in the silent picture era. ”I’m asking why.”

A frown pulled at your lips while a grin stretched across his.

“I’ve already told you.”

“You told me nothing that made any sense, I want details.”

“And what about what I want?” The words were impulsive - gone before you could register how bad of an idea they were.

Luckily, although sometimes you supposed ‘unluckily’, Mahito’s interest in how you spoke to him far outweighed any potential consequence they’d have. It was different, he’d once told you. Brave, yet stupid - like how a small dog would try to fight something much bigger than itself.

A squeak sounded around the cold concrete of the sewer as Mahito squeezed the foam covering of your cane’s handle, and it was hard. Hard not to let anger simmer in your soul at the nonverbal taunt, because that’s what he wanted. A reaction.

Your reaction.

“Why are you broken?” Mahito repeated, his tone and inflection the same as before while he cocked his head.

Again, it was hard not to react.

“I have… problems. In my spine.”

‘Problems’ felt like the best term to use here. With him. Though even still, the word choice caused his expression to practically twist with glee.

“Problems?” He repeated, so much condescension dripping from a single word that it made your stomach churn. “Want me to solve them for you?”

Fear and disgust swam in your heart as much as they did in your gut, and you knew he knew. You knew he could sense it because of the way he looked at you. Hungry for anything you’d give him, both on your own volition and against it.

It was another thing you had grown used to, yet had to swallow down along with the bile that threatened to rise.

“...Not particularly.”

“Why?” This time his tone was petulant as the excitement on his face gave way to disappointed irritation. “It wouldn’t hurt much.”

“Because you don’t even know what it is you would be fixing.”

Mahito drummed his fingers along the cane’s handle. “And whose fault would that be? Don’t you want to get better?” He finished with a coo so mocking your lip twitched - the first of many cracks.

He smiled.

“Of course I do.” Your fingers bunched in the fabric settled in your lap as you practically hissed the words. “But I can’t.”

Mahito hummed and twirled the cane in his hand. “I just offered to.”

You sucked on your teeth. “How generous.” 

“Have I not been with you?.” Laughter mixed with every one of Mahito’s words as he dropped the cane and crouched down in front of you. The nail of his index finger dug into the flesh of your cheek as he poked it, uncaring of the scrape it left behind as he dragged it down your face. “I have yet to hear a single ‘thank you’ for anything, actually, it’s quite rude.”

This time it was your eye that twitched and you had to look away from him.

What was there to be thankful for? Sparing you, maybe, though arguably that was worse than being immediately killed. Learning what he was, what he could do. Ignorance was bliss, and it was difficult to stay that way when the screams of his experiments could go on for hours at a time. 

The food he gave you was another possibility, but even that was laughable. They were scraps at best, and not even given on a regular basis. A large part of you was convinced the half empty bags of chips he'd toss to you was only done so the noise your stomach made would stop interrupting whatever he was reading.

Not that you'd ever tell him such things. You knew it could be worse. Much, much worse.

“Thank you.”

“See? That wasn't so hard!” Mahito patted your cheek twice, making you grimace. “But what are you thanking me for?”

You inhaled deeply. “Everything.”

Mahito’s sharp bark of laughter echoed along the walls, and his fingers grasped your jaw to turn your face back to his.

“‘Everything’?” He cooed, mimicking the pitch and tone of your voice. “I don't think you mean that.”

That was a trap. You knew it was because, once more, he looked at you with that awful hunger in his eyes.

“I do.”

Mahito tutted, “I don't think you do.” His voice almost a sing-song as his nails dug into the skin where your jaw connected to your face. “If you did, you'd let me fix you~.”

“It's not about that.”

“Then what is?” Mahito leaned closer, to the point his nose nearly brushed against yours. It felt like he was trying to look directly into your soul with how intently his eyes bore into yours, and maybe he was. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done such a thing.

Each second that ticked by felt heavier than the last. It made you realize just how dry your throat had been this whole time, and you attempted to wet your lips before speaking again.

“...If you fixed me, you'd get bored.”

Mahito merely continued to stare at you after that. With how close he was, it was easy to watch his expression shifting in real time with his thoughts - a detail that was simultaneously intriguing and frightening.

Eventually he sighed, like an owner disappointed with their pet.

“Bored, huh? That's what you're worried about?” The hand holding your face squeezed your cheeks hard enough to force your lips into a pout. “One little flaw changed and that would be that?”

He didn't wait for you to answer, even if you could. 

“If you think I'd ever get bored of you…” He trailed off, nothing too unusual when he was deep in thought, but it was the way he did it that made you want to wish you'd never said anything in the first place.

“Well. You don’t need to worry about that.”

© absolute-flaming-trash 2025. Do not repost, modify, copy, or claim.