#so anyways reject that

[x-ladydisdain-x]

idk maybe this is just because I’m young and maybe I’ll feel different when I’m older but I just feel like why would you, at 45, want to look like you’re 25. like you’ve lived through 45 whole years. that’s incredible. so much has happened to you in that time. that’s something to be proud of. why would you not want that to show. I feel like when I’m 45 I’ll want it to look like I’m 45 because that is physical proof of the accomplishment of making it to 45. like a badge or something. making it look like I’m younger than I am would be taking that away. idk I just think visible aging is pretty cool. not necessarily the health things that come with it or the decreased ability to do stuff, I realize that may kinda suck but like. wrinkles. grey hair. you earned those. they’re proof of everything leading up to that moment. why would you want them to go away. why would you want to look like you haven’t made it as far as you have. is that not a little invalidating

[starry-bi-sky]

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[spn2006]

the fact that eric kripke isn't even christian really adds something to the way christianity is depicted on supernatural. because its really not about being christian at all, but about living in america, a country dominated by christianity, and having to decide for yourself how to handle that. faith is huge in supernatural, and the mythology of the show is very bible-centric, but notably, christ is never there. even sam, who starts out revering the angels, who once said he prays every night, doesn't actually call himself a christian or imply that he believes in jesus--the show is steeped in christianity and biblical lore and yet neither sam nor dean are christians. in fact, over and over again the church itself is depicted as a haunted house that sam and dean will only ever enter as strangers, as outsiders. priests, preachers, faith healers, chapels, crypts, etc. are all just iconography that create an intense sense of unease that sam and dean respond to instantly. as a jew, its very relatable. an essential part of living in america when you're not christian is that exact sense of unease, of knowing that the culture of your country has ensured that you'll get knocked over by christianity no matter where you go, that you'll see hundreds of people truly believing they're good people while doing awful things in the name of their god, and you have no choice but to confront that. kripke gets it

[doctorsiren]

Thinking about how (a humanoid) Bill would see Ford be older after those 30 years (because that’s how people work), and so to try and appeal to him again, he makes himself look older too (I mean, he’s WAYYYY older than Ford actually, but I just mean visually)

But then after he’s killed and sent to the Theraprism, he goes back to his original twink look, and I say this because I already did a drawing of my humanoid Bill in prison and I like how that design worked with his pathetic traumatized orange jumpsuit look more than I think I would like it with an older looking version 😁 plus uhh I don’t wanna deem that drawing “not canon” to my brain so yeah

[arcanegifs]

ARCANE LEAGUE OF LEGENDS: 2x04 - “Paint the Town Blue” ↳ "I never expected this to go on so long. I thought... I don't know what I thought. Just... it wasn't this."

[captainswan618]

there is a person standing 73 yards some distance away, watching you. they look like they’re trying to tell you something. you can’t get away from them, nor can you get close to them. they’re just...standing there.

so your friends and loved ones try to help you by talking to them, and the person must be saying something to them, because they look at you differently now. but you have no idea what it was, all you hear is static.

you try to tell them not to listen to the person, but no matter what you do, no matter how much you plead with them, they look up at you with suspicion-hatred-fear and just run. they don’t care where they’re going, just that you’re not there. and you can’t do anything to stop it.

the more that the people in your life care about you, the worse it is, because anyone who tries to help is turned against you. so you are just gradually shut out of your own life by the people you love the most, until eventually you no longer recognize your surroundings.

there is a person standing 73 yards some distance away, watching you.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

she turns, makes direct eye contact with you, smiles,

[betweenblackberrybranches]

Soooo Hanahaki disease am i right?

Part 2 Part 3

Luckily the guys arent in as immidiate danger as y/n because they can just open up their insides and get all that stuff out before it gets too bad... they could also just try to get over y/n but they would never do that

And y/n is just having a time being helplessly in love with their animatronic coworkers, too afraid to confess and too stubborn to forget about them

White clover and forget-me-nots if anyone is interested

[che-seri]

bring down justice

[deadrlngers]

James Fitzjames + Caravaggio's Entombment, David with the Head of Goliath, Penitent Magdalene, The Incredulity of Saint Thomas, Death of the Virgin, Bacchus

[sacrificialalt]

ID: A colored sketch of Pluto from Heaven Will Be Mine with a wide smile, though she's slightly covering this up with the Cradle's Grace sash hanging loosely around her frame. She's surrounded by messy starry and plant designs, and has both the veil of her ship-self and a laurel crown atop her head. End ID

The perfect princess of Cradle's Grace.

[knockknockitsnickels]

I think this is one of my favorite lines from the Wraith route because of (imo) how much the meaning changes depending on if you got there via Spectre or Nightmare. For Spectre, it honestly strikes me as a genuine question. Why are you doing this to her? If you're on the Spectre route, you presumably already know the Narrator can't really be trusted, since you had to reject his reward to get here. What are you hoping to gain from continuing to hurt her? For Nightmare, it honestly just makes me sad. As the Shifting Mound describes her, "She desires only companionship, but the only thing she knows is how to hurt." This line feels like a plea from someone who genuinely doesn't understand why you keep rejecting her. She wants to be with you, but she just can't understand how to do that in a way which doesn't hurt you.

[inkskinned]

it just sucks because nothing is ever fucking made for you, and if it is made for you like 75% of the time it gets chopped into little pieces by every person alive because this is the one thing you have, so it has to prove itself to you.

like, a thing can't just be for women. men need to assign it to women. women have to experience "must" or "should" before their hobbies and passions - women are allowed to do silly, passive things like tuck our ankles and titter behind a fan, or something. women are allowed to, they are welcomed to. like the world is a house and we are supposed to be in the kitchen and now we are being given the divine right to enter the living room if we bring chips

because when it becomes for you, or about you, that is when the thing is vile. you should/must wear makeup so you can appear beautiful to men. once you wear makeup for yourself, or because you yourself enjoy putting it on, then you are no longer doing the right thing. there is a reason men hate certain fashion trends. there is a reason men hate things like the pumpkin spice latte - because it's not about them. you are buying it because it is good for you. they degrade your passions and interests. there is a reason women-led fields are largely seen as being "not a real" profession. when you are a good cook, that is because you can provide for him. close your eyes. you're not going to be a chef, be honest. that is a man making food for himself.

bras are made so breasts will be appealing to men. they are rarely about comfort or support. you have given up entirely on the idea of pockets. young girls have to worry about a shorter inseam on their shorts. a girl on instagram gets her septum pierced, and men in the comments are rabid about it - i just want to rip it out of her face. she'd be beautiful without it.

and fucking everything is for them. even the media that is "for you" is for them, eventually. remember "my little pony"? remember how hard it is to convince any executive to believe that little girls are worth selling to? in the media that is for you, you see little ways that you still need to make it accessible for them - the man is always powerful, smart, masculine. he is a man's man. the media usually forgives him. it usually says okay, some men are awful, but hey! gotta love 'em. because if you don't hold their hands and say "this is literally just a story about my lived reality", they shit their pants about it. they demand you put them into the media that's for you.

these are people who are so used to glutting themselves on the world. they are used to having every corner and every dollar and every place of leadership. so you say can i please have one slice of cake, just for myself, please, holy shit. and they fucking weep about it. they say you're being unfair, because some of their one-thousand-slices aren't beautiful, and your singular cake slice doesn't have their name on it. and aren't you being rude by not offering to share?

and honestly. fucking - yeah, man. you were kind of surprised, because the cake is a little basic (you bake at home, you're way past this stuff). but holy shit, it was nice just to be offered cake in the first place. you're used to having to starve. you're used to getting nothing, but going to the party anyway, because you're expected (professionally) to show up. you liked that it is a simple cake, and that it is warm, and mostly: you like that there is, for once, a cake-for-you.

in the real world, outside of metaphor, it feels like fucking being slapped. barbie didn't even say anything particularly unusual; it literally just made factually evident points. there are less women in leadership than men. we can look at that fact objectively. that is a real thing that is happening. and the movie is aware that it has to defend itself! that it has to spend like half an hour just turning to the camera and saying: i know this is hard for you to understand, but this is a real thing that women experience.

it's just - this is that one kid on the playground who thinks its allowed to hog all the toys. he builds this hoard that nobody else is allowed to even look at, or he'll get aggressive. everyone's a little scared of him, so they let it slide, because his daddy gave him the golden touch. he hates when people cry and thinks bullying is cool. he writes boys only! on a big sign and makes all his friends take "alpha male" classes.

and then girls pick up barbies, because there was nothing left for them. and in the void they've been given, with their scraps: they make long, spiraling narratives about how barbie is actually descended from snakes and has given her righteous followers magical (if concerning) powers and can speak 32 languages (2 of which are animal related) and has big plans for infrastructure (beginning with the local interstate). and the boy comes over, and he has a huge fit about how the girls aren't "including" him. he wants to know why the girls aren't making the story about ken.

"we didn't like your story." the girls blink at him. they point to his war stories and the gi joes and the millions of male-led narratives and how still in the modern day men get two-thirds of the speaking roles in movies and they point to men making mediocre shows that don't get lambasted and they point to men encouraging toxic masculinity and they point to men everywhere, men and men and men. and they say: "how is this our fault? you had ken."

"no!" he is already back to screaming and stomping his feet and tearing at his hair and intentionally reminding them that men are holding back thinly concealed violence and he says: "if it's not for me, it's actually sexism."

[fairsweetlonging]

have been in a qijiu/qiyuan mood lately, and i was thinking about an au where shen yuan, upon transmigrating, actually loses his memories. he wakes up and has no idea who he is, where he is, who the man at his bedside is. not a clue. the only thing he has is his muscle memory, his sharp recognition senses (he's experiencing a lot of déjà-vu), and blurry fractions of memories that he can't quite make out.

thing is, the memories of both shen yuan and shen jiu aren't actually gone, they start to intermingle, to mix up, a little sister in princess pajamas beside an older brother wearing dirty rags, a bright screen that displays mountain peaks and glittering caves. he's kind and generous the way someone who has never had to worry about food or money is, but he gets vicious and defensive when someone gets too close. sometimes he says cruel things and doesn't even understand why himself.

neither identity fits anymore, both names right and wrong at the same time. it's just... shen qingqiu.

and while everyone else might adjust to this just fine, yue qingyuan does not. because that is shen jiu, but it isn't, but it has to be, but not always. he gets flashes of his childhood friend when shen qingqiu gets viciously defensive over nothing, when he scowls and scoffs and rolls his eyes when he thinks people can't see, but then he smiles, and laughs, and tilts his head in a way that is completely foreign. he likes beasts. shen jiu never liked beasts. but he loves tanghulu, like shen jiu. sweet sugary things. the first time xiao jiu cuddles up into his hug, he cries.

the way he sometimes clings to yue qingyuan when he has a bad day can't be him, but then he says "qi-ge" exactly like shen jiu would and damn near snarls at anyone who gets too close, and he's aggressively possessive the way he was when they were kids. but then he pulls away and apologizes, like shen jiu would never do.

and he never demands anything, scrubbed clean from roughness and filth and selfish want, will act perfect and smiling and pleasant, never burdensome. like he's completely forgotten where he came from, what he was. like the pampered nobleman's son who could afford to be kind. the only time his old self comes fully back up is when he feels threatened or scared or angry, like a trauma response that kicks in to protect himself. and then yue qingyuan starts to wonder if maybe it is. maybe the shen jiu he knows was only ever fear and self-preservation, and the one he is now is a shen jiu without the chains and shackles and scars.

yue qingyuan doesn't know if he's happy for him, if it's for better or for worse. he does know that he feels protective and responsible for this new version xiao jiu has become.

meanwhile shen qingqiu, even when he regains enough of his memories to realize he was once a different person, doesn't know who he is anymore. both, maybe. or neither. he feels bad for taking away yue qingyuan's friend, but in his heart he can't help but think qi-ge is his brother, and no one else's. when he manages the peak he feels like he's taking credit for another's accomplishments, but he remembers suffering for it, he remembers what it took to get there.

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

edwin is a better, stronger man than i, because i would be infinitely more dramatic and petty in his position when crystal enters the scene and charles starts paying attention to her. i would have comic!edwin’s reaction at least (accusing charles of choosing girls over him, storming off to solve cases on his own and deciding to do shit that will get him into trouble so that charles has to come rescue him, etc) but i’d probably take it a step further. i’d be like “i guess you want me to go back to hell then since i’m basically nothing to you 😒” and then i’d legitimately go back to hell JUST to see if he came after me. if he didn’t come after me then an eternity of torture in hell is nothing compared to the pain of rejection and being replaced. but i’m also incredibly mentally ill, so.

(james acaster once told a story about a christmas where he asked his parents for a spice girls cd. he found out whilst at the pool with his family that his sister was getting the cd instead of him. naturally, he tried to drown himself in the pool to make his parents feel guilty. that’s my vibe if i were ever in edwin’s position.)

[hello-sweetheart]

Wouldn’t it be so fucking funny if we finally get to meet Steve’s parents in s5 and they’re like…typical suburban parents

After making them mostly monsters in fanfic like guys fffff half the time we make them emotionally abusive and/or neglectful, the other half physically, and then like if you’re on the dark web then 3% of the time they work for the lab and Steve’s like a failed number…

For like, the vibes ya know

…But then we actually meet them and it’s a pudgy office dad with glasses married to an “I can be cool >:(‘ mom.

-“Steve, I thought you said your mom doesn’t trust your dad…looks like they love each other?”

Steve: “???wym, of course they love each other. But obviously she doesn’t trust dad on trips cuz he got lost in a Texas airport once, duh.”

-“ok, what about when you said he’d kill you if he found out you drink?”

Steve: “Yeah??? I’m literally underaged and if he found out I’ve been watering down his $200 liquor he’d be so pissed 🙄”

Like, TO BE FAIR Steve’s dad telling him to get a summer job to figure out the value of money or whatever is pretty typical like baby boy didn’t work in high school 😭 and he’s like pouting and huffing about in scoops

He has a fancy car that his parents trust him to drive and take care of

And him not wanting to work for his dad is valid of him like imagine his dad is trying to be supportive like “if you ever need a job son you can come work with me :)”

and steve would hate that cuz to him it would feel like he didn’t deserve it or work for it, working for his dad feels like it means he failed to make something of himself

And like Steve’s not a bad kid, he’s a teenager who just hates his first job cuz customer service sucks, does stupid kid shit like drink and go to parties, and feels like he missed his chance to makes something of himself that he and his parents can be proud of just because he’s a little behind than the rest of his peers

I relate to that so hard

Like bro said he was having a party at his house and it was just like…4 people he invited with a six pack. No music or anything just chillin on lawn chairs and shooting the shit

Even his home is in warm colors 💀

But we love the angst 🤌 the drama 🤌 and torturing our favorite character