#super fucking confused

[teddybeartoji]

i think gojo would be TERRIBLE at any type of imposter game. like those mafia games or among us etc etc. HE WOULD SUCKKK. he has never won a single game. ever. he just gets so excited whenever he's The Bad Guy and he gets this glint in his eyes and it just makes it so fucking obvious that he's the one lmao. and then he's soooooo sad when he loses:(((( like c'mon guys how'd you know it was me:(((( BE SERIOUSSSS YOU LITERALLY WENT "MWAHAHAHA" WHEN THE GAME BEGAN???????????????????? he's stupid i can't believe i love him

[happyk44]

actually lol the story playing out as it does but after Annabeth reunites with Percy, he looks behind her and is very quickly, "where's grover"

cue depression that some other satyr is joining them on this quest instead of Grover, who obviously decided not to come get Percy himself because he hates him

("percy, he doesn't hate you, he's just busy preparing trying to keep Gaea down with all the other nature spirits")

("HE HATES ME")

[zenlesszonezero]

As the conspiracy reaches its finale, the Void Hunter joins the fight.

Uncover the Conspiracy in Zenless Zone Zero's All-New Version "A Storm of Falling Stars", S-Rank Agent Hoshimi Miyabi is here! With S-Rank Agent Asaba Harumasa Limited-Time Giveaway! Pre-register to obtain additional rewards.

[aeb-art]

here's a continuation of this comic. it ended up kinda long so the full thing is under the cut

yeah these two immediately forgot that there are other people in the room lmao

[dykedvonte]

MacCready being one of the few companions to not lose affinity if you eat people makes sense when you remember the fungus in Little Lamp Light grew from decomposing bodies. Like the kids weren’t eating people directly but they were eating people adjacent things.

Not to mention how the Lone Wanderer can trick the kids at LLL into buying “strange meat” to eat which is just human so it’s more likely than not they have just straight up ate people so he’s either very desensitized, knows what food desperation can do to people or feels he really has not ground to stand on since he was in the same boat whether he wanted to be or not.

[arrowheadedbitch]

Bakugo: All right, what the hell was it you wanted to tell us, dunceface?

Kaminari: Yeah, one second

Kaminari, turning away and cupping his hands over his mouth: OH MY GOD, ALL THE GIRLS ARE IN HERE AND THEY'RE TAKING THEIR SHIRTS OFF!

Kaminari:...

Kaninari: Okay, yeah we're good. I'm trans!

Mina: What- what was that?

Kaminari: What was What?

Sero: That! Just now! Why did you turn around and yell that!?

Kaminari: Oh, I was making sure Mineta wasn't listening.

Sero: ???

Mina: Um, why?

Kirishima: Yeah, I'm pretty confused about that part??

Kaminari: I think it's perfectly understandable that I don't want Mineta to find out I have boobs.

Mina: Oh, yeah, that makes sense

Sero: Yeah, no, no, I get that

Kirishima: That's super manly, yeah

Bakugo: I'm not even gonna yell at you for that one, that makes sense

[nebuladreamz]

The voices are loud and I am WEAK

[momomallowart]

Sloppy toppy

[good-to-drive]

Sometimes I don't understand how people can not understand George and then I remember not everyone grew up Catholic

[altcvnningham]

waning moon

helen park x madam shell

summary: helen park sees the cracks in her lover's façade. (inspired by @mickstart and their amazing post on perhaps the most underrated ship of all time??) read on ao3

tags/cw: nsfw, wlw, angst, pre-cw, betrayal (but vaguely unspecified), light choking, younger woman/older woman, age gap, references to coercion, vague references to abuse of authority, so much bird imagery, doomed sapphics wc: 1.1k

a/n: i literally read @mickstart's park x shell (shellen???) post and got possessed, blacked out for an hour and wrote this. i have 0 memory of how i got here or what this means and though it isn't like 100% what the post was talking about it DID inspire me to spill out this ramble ab a character who has 0 canon appearances outside of dialogue. sorry for pretentious purple prose and rough editing!! it's 12am forgive me

She doesn’t know when she sees the change, but it slips in slow and sweet, like a paling knife glinting in the moonlight. How sand sifts to the bottom of an hourglass, she too feels just as suffocated under the weight of borrowed time.

Yet Shell’s eyes are paler still even in the dark, the waning moon of this interminable night, one that feels to Helen Park like the bookend of something. An answer, unspoken, but as implicit as though it had been there all along, a truth she’d known deep down but refused to acknowledge. And why would she? How could she? It had been three long years since Shell took her under her wing, her pretty little bird, three years that had changed everything. Irreparably. Even now as Park finds the pieces of it all scattered and frayed with Shell’s silent betrayal, she sees the beauty in each and every one, too besotted with the finer details to bear looking at the bigger picture.

Shell is lying.

She knows, more certain than she has ever been of anything in her life. As the older woman climbs languid atop her narrow hips, smothered in perfume bergamot and liquorice, plum coloured lips close over her own in a lazy mimicry of a kiss. Helen parts open her mouth, as she had her legs countless times, like a good little protégé, showing her madam just what she’s learned. All for��her. Tongue hot as she kisses back with hooded, half-open eyes, curling around Shell’s like a proclamation. I know what you are. I know what you’re doing.

(And do you know, how powerless I am to stop you? As if I’d even try?)

And Shell knows it too. In the dark of this Parisian hotel room, blinds drawn to cast away the world’s prying eyes, she can see it on the girl’s face plain as day. Sweet Helen is a pretty thing, much too clever for her own good, but wears her heart on her sleeve, with eyes as big and shiny as a doe’s- and now hunting season had come for her sweet girl, and how wide they had looked at Shell upon her return, hands smothered in blood. Blood that she hadn’t bothered to scrub, knowing Helen had likely smelled it coppery on the air when she’d walked in. Her fingers are still tinged pink with it, even as she traipses them up the girl’s waist, cupping the plush undersides of her breasts.

That is to say, Helen isn’t the best at hiding her expressions. It’s what Shell had loved about her. The shrill gasps when Shell would come up behind her, grasping her waist in lieu of a polite excuse me; the way she’d avert her eyes shyly when she’d caught hers across a room, crowded, empty; how she’d been so young when Shell had met her, blushing like a schoolgirl at the mere whisper of praise; and how when Shell had asked her but a month later if she’d ever been touched before- properly, darling girl, like a lover might- Helen had flushed red and bright as a virgin. Perhaps she had been, too proud to admit it. For a girl who is as sharp as a knife and twice as lethal, Shell had held in her hands a mourning dove, cooing softly in her palm, willing to piece together its nest there. Right there. With her.

Now, not so much. Her songbird doesn’t sing as she used to, her eyes parsing through the fog she’d been happy to let Shell pull over them. Helen sees her for what she is now, and they both know it.

It isn’t a strange thing, what she’s doing. Not at all irregular. It’s a gesture Shell had exercised over her innumerable times before, a kind of sordid foreplay, staking her claim over her. Shell’s hands lay flat upon Helen’s sternum, her heart thrumming steady but beating violent as a war drum; the older woman smiles- how well she’s taught her. Calm, girl, slow breaths. Don’t let them see you falter. Don’t let them feel you shiver. Don’t let them hear you breathe. In the face of fear, Helen had grown around herself flesh of stone, unyielding. That doesn’t change, not even around Shell.

But this isn’t a test. This isn’t one of her many lectures, her teachings. Very rarely does Madam Shell separate work from pleasure, seeing the two overlap rather conveniently; but for Helen she had all the time in the world. Perhaps not after tonight, given what they both know now. But pleasure is a special thing she keeps locked in a drawer for Helen to pry open and play in, rifle curious fingers through until they snag on something that piques her interest.

And yet it always ends the same way. Like this. The older woman atop her, faraway look in her eye, warbled smile on her lips. Hands around neck.

Her fingers slide slow, deft, thumb parted to curl her hand around the pale column of Helen’s throat. And she can do nothing but be still for her mentor, her lover, holding her breath in wide-eyed submission, a devotion that spoke beyond words, beyond meaning. A kind of reverence she knows only Shell would understand, a stillness like prey clutched within a lioness’ maw. Playing dead, prettily.

Shell’s eyes fix upon her, steel grey boring into vivid green, alight with something akin to amusement; in the daytime, Helen mistakes the glint for adoration, something like love, when she’s drunk enough on Shell’s affections to believe it.

Now, in the waning moon of their last night together- as they are, as they could have been, if only she didn’t know what she knows at the very pit of her being is true- she recognises the errant flicker for what it is. Kindling. A struck match, willing to burn it all down, even if it means taking sweet Helen with her. Her mourning dove. Cast to the fire like everything else. For a terrifying moment, Park isn’t even sure she’d much mind it at all. Ashes to ashes, as they say.

And as Shell squeezes her hand soft and gentle around her favourite girl’s neck, Helen surrenders her head against the pillow, spilling back with a moan shrill like a song. It’s the last time she knows she’ll ever sing for her again, so she makes sure it’s a good one.

[o-wyrmlight]

Hey.

Kim teaching Harry how to skateboard and Harry teaching Kim how to roller skate.

Harry thinks he fucking sucks at first because Kim gets the hang of roller skating pretty quickly. As it turns out, skateboarding is a lot harder than roller skating.

I don’t know where I’m going with this. Um. Kim still prefers skateboarding because of the technical aspect and risk factor but he’s surprised he enjoys how chill roller skating is.

Harry enjoys skateboarding because a) time with Kim as a teacher and b) oh wow a challenge? Your physical instrument loves challenges. You will conquer this with the force of your—what do you mean this is more the centipede’s thing? Holy shit no wonder Kim’s so cool

[tamashi-tai-tamashi]

what do you mean the japanese version is the only real, valid and canon version and can by definition only fit the characters better and be better than any dubbed version 😵

[cluescorner]

Arlecchino's whole deal is unbelievable

Arlecchino: Huh I wonder what's causing my weird powers? I can't really worry about that right now tho, I've gotta become King and then kill my "Mother".

*Kills Clervie and "Mother"*

Arlecchino: Huh I wonder why I was able to defeat a Fatui Harbinger when I'm like 17 or so? I can't really worry about that right now tho, I've gotta be in jail and become a Harbinger.

*Is in jail for a while and becomes a Harbinger*

Arlecchino: Huh I wonder why I am-

Pierro: Hey what's up hello, anyways you're descended from the Crimson Moon Dynasty of Khaenri'ah. I'm sure that this is a lot for you to take in so-

Arlecchino: Ok.

Pierro: ...You're just cool with that?

Arlecchino: IDK maybe? I can't really worry about that at the moment, I'm a father now. This orphanage full of children I love (who also are child soldiers and are not allowed to leave or else I'll execute them except maybe now I'm just gonna wipe their memories IDK I'm morally complex) isn't gonna run itself.

*Runs the orphanage/spy recruitment initiative*

Me, the fucking player: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ARE KHAENRI'AN? WHY WASN'T THIS BROUGHT UP IN YOUR FUCKING QUEST?? OR ANYTHING ELSE????

Arlecchino, talking to me through my phone: I honestly don't know why you care, I'm too busy to give a shit. Anyways, I'm gonna go fight fate itself I guess. I'm sure that I don't share any thematic parallels with any other Khaenri'an characters (particularly as it relates to acting and family angst) and that I haven't made the idea of 'curses' on Khaenri'ans and what they entail even more complicated than they already were. See ya.

[seriouslycalamitous]

Guys I recently, at the suggestion of a couple friends, started watching the Life Series.

And this DesertDuo stuff…

Whew. It’s GOOD.

(And I have now been put in the difficult position of desperately wanting to write about it. BUT i’ve never seen hermit craft and i don’t have plans to, and I haven’t learned enough about the fandoms unspoken rules and stuff. I fear that I may slip up and call Grian taller than Scar and get jumped because I don’t know better-)

[evilkitten3]

what if whenever ashura and indora reincarnate like all their lives do that, no separate souls or however it works

orochimaru tries to summon the the previous hokage to fight hiruzen and everyone is completely baffled when instead of god of shinobi hashirama stepping out of the coffin naruto falls out wondering where the fuck that weirdo from suna he was about to throw hands with went

[enf92]

IMAWANOKIWA

[poademeron]

the lack of reed900 high school au breaks my heart i desperately need to see high strung perfectionist nines falling hopelessly in love with loser boy gavin and everyone questioning his sanity