#sobs in incompetence

[pinkopalina]

i think the technology bubble will burst at some point and hopefully if humans value healing, we will go back to analog a BIT (some tech is good! but we are TOO RELIANT) and hopefully we can reassess our priorities, but i'll stay guarded. i don't trust that in my life time i will see the life i wished to have lived... but maybe, it can exist for the future.

if we don't all kill each other and ourselves

[squish--squash]

this is my mood this week

[todayisafridaynight]

SORRY TO TAKE SUCH A HARD LEFT BUT HOW DO YOU THINK JO FOUND OUT ARAKAWA WAS DEAD

IM GOING TO SCREAM IF I TRY TO THINK ABOUT THAT NOOOOO I GOTTA GET BACK TO YOU IN 5-7 BUSINESS DAYS WITH THAT ONE............

[lovsome]

i think im gonna ask my therapist to get me an appointment with the private psychiatrist she suggested

[hecksupremechips]

Feeling just every single kind of horrific now I’m literally living my nightmare and have no where to run anymore

[consulaaris]

actually no i’m still fuming about being called a “little princess” for uhhhh [checks notes] not wanting to sleep on the floor for three fucking weeks because my mother is having a whole fucking mental breakdown over my move.

[cherry-pop-elf]

heads up you mispelled vanished in your last art post

god fucking dammit. I can't spell to save my life istg

[xxradzxx]

Damn bro I wish I could communicate better 😭

[kasarian]

even if ive been on artfight for 7 (?!!) years now, i still haven't done a proper art reference for my ocs. and i see people updating their oc sheets every year... how?!!!! how do y'all have the energy?! 😭

[gemkun]

@tavustlik said : i don't want to flood your inbox, so pick one or mix multiple idc: gutter. the trail of blood ends and you find the sender broken on the ground. plaster. it's not pretty but it'll do; you wince as the sender patches your wounds. waiting. you duck into the bus stop to escape the rain, intruding on the sender. listen. the sender disobeys and you swat their curious hand away. crossfire. you realize the sender asking you to put out a hit is your next target. ↬ ⭒˚｡🖁‧₊˚ 〖 down these mean streets . . . 〗

      ⸻       vanished   was   his   anticipation   ,   when   he   hurried   to   seek   shelter   ,   away   and   out   of   the   downpour   that   showered   relentlessly.   though   the   hammer   of   droplets   is   a   concern   washed   away   when   a   deafening   thud   strikes   ,   causing   two   collapsed   figures   to   tumble   onto   the   pavement   —   extracting   a   hiss   from   the   fallen   practitioner.   fortunately   ,   the   spot   he   lands   upon   is   absent   of   puddles   that   litter   the   streets.

  though   ,   that   does   not   undo   the   fact   he   is   already   wet   from   his   prior   episode   of   weather   exposure.

  faintly   ,   the   pitter   —   patter   draws   him   back   to   the   land   of   the   living   ,   and   his   eyes   crescent   until   the   full   moon   waxes   towards   his   run   —   in.   ah.   ❝   you   ?   ❞   strain   echoes   ,   summoned   from   his   chest   that   rises   and   falls.   in   a   tempo   faster   than   his   usual   rate.   ❝   why   are   you   here   ?   ❞

  speculation   stirs   before   he   can   help   it   ,   pondering   what   ifs   and   hypotheticals   ,   before   he   moves   onto   verifying   potentials   —   whether   or   not   they   uphold   any   semblance   of   truth.   all   in   the   span   of   a   few   seconds   whilst   he   moves   to   upright   himself.

  but   he   cannot   hide   the   struggle   as   his   legs   straighten   ,   and   a   grimace   works   its   way   across   an   afflicted   countenance.

  and   it   seems   his   company   catches   on   quick   ,   with   how   his   eyes   search   his   personage.   his   exploit   to   conceal   is   a   fruitless   one   —   when   there   is   a   dark   patch   that   stains   his   cloth.   even   if   it   borders   on   being   faint   as   opposed   to   noticeable.   so   too   ,   does   the   doctor   follow   the   trail   of   his   gaze   ,   identifying   how   it   slips   to   the   clash   against   his   otherwise   pristine   garb.

  knuckles   bruised   ,   he   plants   a   hand   to   obscure   the   splatter   on   his   attire   ,   veiling   it   from   prying   ,   avgin   eyes.   ❝   it’s   just   a   scratch.   pay   no   mind   to   it.   ❞   yet   ,   it   is   never   enough   for   the   stoneheart   ,   and   dissatisfaction   announces   itself   as   a   hand   strides   to   its   mark   —   snatching   the   wrist   belonging   to   the   barricade   over   his   wound.

  before   he   pries   it   off   ,   and   a   layer   of   crimson   greets   him.

  immediately   ,   his   scorn   follows   in   the   swatting   of   his   intrusive   grasp   ,   and   the   academic   narrows   eyes   at   the   director.   it   was   to   be   expected   ,   since   he   never   did   adhere   to   prescribed   directions   ,   but   veritas   still   mirrors   his   annoyance   in   his   scowl.   ❝   did   you   not   hear   me   ?   i   said   leave   it.   ❞   he   did   have   every   capability   of   dealing   with   it   ,   as   a   doctor   and   all.

  to   his   dismay   ,   the   act   of   swiping   a   curious   hand   brings   him   to   stumble.   and   on   his   last   legs   ,   he   collapses   once   more   ,   against   the   male   that   occupies   this   bus   stop.   fingers   climb   ,   before   he   grips   the   material   that   adorns   the   sigonian   ,   if   only   to   steady   himself   from   tripping   completely.   there   ,   a   sudden   breath   curls   ,   exhaled   upon   the   torso   pressed   forth   ,   instantaneous   once   he   detects   the   hand   that   flaps   his   garment   aside.   where   gleaming   dual   —   toned   irises   can   survey   the   laceration.

  he   dismisses   the   chide   that   falls   from   the   one   expected   to   receive   it   instead   of   dishing   it   ,   until   agony   spears   from   the   nerves   that   fire   once   his   body   stations   into   the   vacant   seat   at   the   scheduled   pick   —   up   zone.   soon   enough   ,   he   recognises   there   is   no   room   for   protest   once   the   liquidation   specialist   makes   up   his   mind   ,   and   in   this   case   ,   it   refers   to   the   insistence   to   attending   his   injury.

  an   offering   he   would   have   declined   to   any   other   asker.

  ❝   stubborn   gambler   ,   try   not   to   do   a   sloppy   job.   it   would   be   counterproductive   if   your   application   requires   readjusting.   ❞   glancing   ,   he   observes   the   tools   of   his   sleight   ,   now   tasked   with   staunching   rivulets.

  but   as   he   does   so   ,   he   scopes   above   ,   eyeing   the   covering   that   shields   the   two.   and   it   stays   ,   tipped   skywards   ,   to   watch   until   the   clouds   roll   away   and   take   its   storm   with   it.

  perhaps   ,   it   is   a   good   thing   ,   that   the   other   is   distracted.   leaving   the   rain   to   be   nothing   more   than   a   distant   memory.

[ma-douce-souffrance]

hi saanjh

hi blair my love my lady my life

[readymades2002]

[theflyingfeeling]

...🙃

[p1nkshield]

Jason: What is this??

Dick: it’s the flour and butter you asked me to buy?

Jason: No. No it’s not.

Dick: ye-

Jason: I asked for CAKE FLOUR and UNSALTED BUTTER.

Dick: but-

Jason: now am I just supposed to trust the salt content of this salted butter???? And this is BREAD FLOUR this has opposite qualities and PURPOSES! Does it look like I’m making bread to you??

Dick: I’m-

Alfred: it was a foolish decision to ask any of your siblings to purchase any sort of ingredients.

Dick: Hey!-

Jason: I know Alfie but you already do so much. I thought he could get two items without infecting it with WEAPONIZED INCOMPETENCE! *begins to fake sob into Alfred’s shoulder*

Dick: ???

Alfred: *patting Jason on the back reproachfully* A shame really… perhaps you should leave.

Dick: okay tragicwing I get it! I’m going back! Who taught you such dramatics?

Jason: You.

Dick: 😐… worst decision of my life.

[queenpiranhadon]

Can I request bkg and reader getting in a fight so they still share the bed but sleep while facing away from each other. But then reader gets nightmare about him dying and clutches to him. How do you think he would react??

A/N: Sobbing because the manga has me in shambles TY ANON FOR THE REQUESTTT <33 Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): Mild cursing, you and Katsuki get into a fight, he's a little hot headed but he means well, you both love each other so much, you both are dating, mentions of an anxiety attack, nightmares, angst to comfort, mentions of blood and death, slight spoilers, reader is called princess and baby, f!reader.

Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

•─────•°•❀•°•──── ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ────•°•☁︎•°•────•

"Katsuki you can't keep doing this to yourself!"

"Jesus baby, ya know that this is my job, I don't have a choice! I can't just stop savin' people 'cause my girlfriend wants me to."

It went on like that for a while, back and forth, between "You can't just keep coming home like this, it's not healthy!" and "It's my fuckin' job - what the fuck do ya want me to do about it?!" as well as every single variation of the two.

It was exhausting.

You were understandably worried sick about your pro hero boyfriend, Katsuki Bakugou, you always had been. You loved him to death, you always would, but your heart simply couldn't take the sight of him coming home bruised and bloodied and on the brink of death.

You believed in him, you really did, but the little voice in the back of your head never seemed to stop asking the one question you wish never had to be asked in the first place.

What if it finally became too much? What if one day, he didn't come home back to you?

The scenarios that voice would create were almost as bad as having to experience it in real life, and Katsuki's blatant disregard for your feelings only made it worse.

To him, you didn't believe in him. Your worries made him feel weak - your worries made it seem like his skills were incompetent, as if he wasn't enough. After all, when you see a hero like All Might on the screen, no one is simply worried for his wellbeing, because they know he'll win.

Why don't you think he can win?

The two of you don't speak to each other for the rest of the night, still sleeping in the same bed but turned away from each other.

And it was hard, trying to fall asleep without the other, so accustomed to falling asleep in each other's arms, but you finally managed to do so.

However, without Katsuki's presence to soothe you in the night, the voice in your head decided to take the reins on your dreams.

Except it was much more worse than that.

You were on a battle field, there was so much happening except there was nothing happening at the same time.

You can't see your hands, or the rest of your body, eerily making you a spectator to the chilling scene around you.

The ground was slate grey, and then it wasn't, crimson blood staining the ground until all you could see was red.

You try to scream, but you can't because you have no body, and consequently, no mouth.

Still you persist, opening an invisible mouth to let out soundless screams in the hope that someone, anyone, can get you out of this soulless empty hellhole.

And then you see him.

It's Katsuki.

He looks fine, unharmed except for the hollow look in his eyes.

Your heart aches and you reach out an invisible hand to do something, to apologize for losing your temper, anything to have him back.

But the moment you blink, Katsuki isn't fine, or unharmed anymore.

Now, there was a gaping hole in his chest, and half of his face was stained the same crimson that was splattered across the ground.

You could only watch in horror as Katsuki's life was sucked out of him, seeping out through the blood that dripped out of his body, staining the ground even further, pooling at his feet.

You scream even more, but nothing comes out. You can't do anything, and the love of your life is bleeding out and you're just standing there.

Shit!

You didn't realize you were crying until you feel two strong hands gently shaking you awake, finding yourself buried in Katsuki's chest, clutching onto his shirt like it was your lifeline. Or in this case, his.

"Princess? I'm here, baby I'm here...everything's okay..." he murmurs, his gruff voice soothing you as he strokes your hair, allowing you to soak his shirt with your tears, not minding it at all.

You look at him, and his heart breaks at the broken look in your eyes.

"Katsuki...?" you whisper, and he looks at your with those piercing vermillion eyes, ridden with guilt.

"Baby, m'so sorry I talked to ya like that.... I'm so stupid, damnit." he whispers angrily, not to you, but to himself.

How had he not realized how bad your anxiety was?

He sighs - he wasn't the focus right now, you were.

He brings a large and gentle hand around, cupping the back of your head and tenderly pressing it against his chest.

"Feel that princess? That my heart, beating for ya. And only for ya, ya hear me?"

You giggle softly, feeling your heart warm. The two of you fall asleep together like that, and the little voice in your head finally gives you a few words of assurance.

Katsuki's okay.

[astridofraftel]

how am I supposed to live on after buddy daddies' epilogue