#themself in the characters they love.

[flutteringfable]

wow chat i sure do love pinterest /sar

[aq2003]

Is that the end of it? The Time War?

[seeminglydark]

Posting this one on its own cuz I just really love this image. gently hold your teenage self and tell them it’s gonna get better one day.

Look how far we’ve come.

[bonebrokebuddy]

It’s time for a, “things I sent to my twin’s inbox but she said I should post myself because I never post my own work and she’d like if I stopped spamming her inbox with ideas but I forgot about it and just kept it in my drafts notes for months and now finally I’m posting the fucking things.”

Or for short:

DP X DC PROMPT #7:

————————————

Danny visits metropolis and people are deadset on believing that Danny is either Clark’s little brother or his nephew from Illinois… despite that Clark can literally not be related to him. Not that the people at the Daily Planet know that, but even the ones who do know are giving him a hard time.

“I’m adopted Jimmy!” Clark threw his hands in the air in frustration. “You are very aware of that.”

“But he looks just like you Clark, you even talk the same!” Jimmy peaked around the corner, catching a glimpse of Danny talking to Lois in the employees lounge.

“He has a upper midwestern accent. I’m from Kansas, Jim. Not all midwesterners know each other!”

“So?”

“Jimmy. You know damn well why we can not be related.” Clark subtly gestured to his cheap “I believe in aliens” mug. Jimmy was Clark’s best friend and most of the time he really appreciated the kid’s keen eye but Jimmy also seemed to be constantly dead-set on figuring how to give Clark a headache.

“But he looks like a mini you! Have you asked him if he has a spare spaceship lying around anywhere?” Jimmy snarked as he glanced over to Danny and Louis who were finally heading back from their break.

“Jimmy, I will put you on the moon and leave you there.”

“Alright sheesh. I get it, I’ll drop it.”

[scrimmiestbingus]

So thanks to Rose's DLC, Capcom now has the RE timeline at a point where all of their iconic characters are in their 60s and all of their villains are dead. Where does the franchise go from here?

There can be only one savior.

[exiledelle]

for the underfell yellow folks (fellows?) since every now and then i come across fell starlo

hear me out

fell feisty five but instead of just being Edgy and Murderous, theyre a band of bandits who act above the law, beyond the law, and against the law, and they commit train robberies for fun (trains dont exist in the underground though so they have to pretend)

also they still dont want to kill clover. they see clover is a human, and they decide that having a human in their crew would make them more notorious, so starlo brings them on board (maybe the Feisty Feud ends up being about starlo prioritizing the reward over his crew, and actively putting them in massive danger with zero consideration)

basically this teaser image but Real (since the real feisty five ended up not being wanted (except mooch probably))

[whatisamildopinion]

GODDDDD. just thinking about Kipperlilly and how she took the rage star on PURPOSE. she CHOSE it. she CHOSE to be a cause for the apocalypse, to murder a goddess and her friend and her whole school and it was worth it, because she felt so entitled to that power, because it was hers and anyone who had more power than her didn't deserve it.

thinking about Kipperlilly and that Brennan quote that said "ideology comes downstream of personality, so before you were a fascist, you were an asshole and a bully"

[bluefire-axolotl]

So I heard there’s save-scumming discourse in the Baldurs Gate fandom and decided to present my own personal unhinged take

[delusional-cryptid]

Another song piece!!! I think this piece could use some depth, which is something I wanna learn to do as well. But, this is my last sketchbook page so one thing at a time!!

Once again, here’s the song 💜

[that-disabled-princess]

What if Ethari attacks Runaan when he sees him because this Runaan can't be his husband and he's an imposter and taking advantage of his grief, even using his husband's exact moves and anticipating his own, and Runaan refuses to fight him, doing the same thing Rayla did at the Moon Nexus and dropping his weapons, and that's when Ethari realizes it really is his husband

[erabu-san]

I just start a new account, doing the archon quest again, And I FINALLY See it.

Xiao x Traveler?

Yes.

I SAW THE WAY XIAO LOOK AT THE TRAVELER.

I'M ON THE BOAT NOW, I'M ON THE TRAVELER X XIAO SHIP!

YES !!!! 😭😭😭 there are so wholesome i love them sm

[allthepandasintheworld]

i think the most fun thing about pocket (other than being a pocket main of course) is that im pretty sure i've been training my entire life specifically to draw this little goober. like im pretty sure they were entirely made specifically to my tastes and i love with video games do that for me thank you valve thank you deadlock

[cosmocove]

much ado about pleasure

[cuubism]

"Nice place you have here," says Desire, sliding into the booth opposite Hob.

Hob, unfortunately, recognizes them by voice alone. Desire speaks with the melody of an arpeggio, smoothed into oblivion by the sustained press of a piano pedal. Drag without release, in comparison to Dream's resounding deep notes.

"Never seen you here before," Hob says, instead of get out of my pub. He doesn't actually need to start a fight.

"I've decided to respect my brother's play set for now," Desire says archly, as if this is a huge consideration on their part. "He's been through so much recently, after all."

"And you've been so much help with that," Hob says.

Something dangerous flashes briefly in Desire's eyes, and Hob remembers how fickle they can be. Like fire, Dream had said.

Then it subsides. "Careful, Robert," they say easily, leaning on their hand, "one might think you've chosen a side."

No thinking about it, Hob thinks. "Families shouldn't have sides."

"Oh, ours isn't supposed to," Desire agrees. "And yet."

And yet. "Is there something in particular that has you breaking your self-imposed generosity today?"

It's one day before his and Dream's usual meeting, after all. That can't be a coincidence. Technically, they meet all the time now, but they always keep June 7th for nostalgia's sake.

"I simply enjoy the atmosphere," says Desire, leaning back in their chair. They thrust out a hand, and a rainbow flag flutters off the wall into their grasp, drawn by their whims. Desire drapes it over their shoulders.

"I guess that makes sense," Hob says.

Desire raises an eyebrow.

Hob gestures at them. "Desire. Isn't that your thing?"

They give him a crafty smile, a little teeth, that suggests Hob's going to learn something he may not entirely like. "Well, it is certainly of interest to me."

"Of interest," Hob echoes. Might as well say fire was "of interest" to a pyromaniac. "Isn't that what you do? Dream makes dreams, and..." he trails off.

"I am Desire," they say. "So, in a way, I feel all desires at all times. Yes, even yours, Robert." They pat him on the cheek, and wink. "I know what you feel."

Hob's cheeks heat, but Desire doesn't linger on it, thankfully.

"But, my own desire? Hm, no, not in the way you would think."

"But you--" Hob doesn't know how to phrase the confusion in his mind.

Desire runs their tongue along their lower lip. "Are you calling me a slut, Robert?"

"Would take one to know one, I suppose," Hob says before he can even think about it, and Desire laughs, bright and loud.

"You are so cute. You would be delicious if you weren't obsessed with Dream. But, no. I can feel desired," Desire says, emphasizing the past tense. The objective nature of it. "But that, while certainly tasty, is not quite the same as feeling it oneself, now is it?"

What might it be like, Hob thinks, feeling a pang of sympathy for them despite how they've treated Dream, how he'd automatically marked them as an enemy in his mind, to be surrounded by wanting and not be able to feel it?

"I... guess not," he says. "So you don't want anything?"

Desire shrugs. "I enjoy things. But if I can't have them, it simply passes like--" they pull off the flag and let it flutter to the floor "-- a gust of wind. And I move on to something else. Otherwise, I chase others' desires. Your inn is full of them. Desires for peace, for belonging, for change and magic and-- yes, lust, too, but more of an undertone. It is..." they run their tongue over their teeth, thinking. "Aromatic."

"What does desire 'taste' like?" Hob asks.

"Why don't you tell me," Desire says.

"I'm not going to lick you," Hob says, and Desire cackles.

"Open offer," they say. "Be all metaphorical like Dream, then."

"Alright, fine." Hob decides to indulge them, because he has actually learned something interesting today. "It's like... the smell of a good meal. You don't quite... taste it, exactly? But you can imagine tasting it."

"Good answer," says Desire, and steals his drink for a sip. "I knew I could count on you to listen, Hob."

Hob's not sure if it's the tone, like something long undecided has now been settled, or if it's the use of his old nickname, but suddenly the afternoon tilts, and Hob realizes with a swoop in his stomach that they're here for a purpose, and not just poking at Dream.

The Endless almost never communicate directly, Hob knows this. Goddammit.

"I've spent a lot of time in these sorts of places, you know," Desire says, gesturing around. "They are right--" they interlace their fingers in example "--in the center of my realm."

"Depending on the year, I would have thought you and Despair together," Hob says, wary now that he's realized this is coming to some sort of point.

"A common assumption," Desire says, nodding like a teacher whose student is getting on the right track. "See, people often think my twin and I are opposites. Desire, Despair." They hold out both hands separately again, then clasp them. "But they don't have it right. Hope is the opposite of Despair. Do you know what the opposite of Desire is?" They reach across the table to tap their sharp nails against his sternum. "Shame."

"And that's... part of your domain, as well?" Hob guesses.

"Indeed. Who could know shame as well as one who desires? They both--" they lay their hand flat to his heart "--live here."

Hob supposes he himself has had plenty of desires over the years, and plenty of shame too -- though not necessarily over the same matters.

"Hence," they spread their hands wide, "my presence. The duality of Desire."

"So what do you do?" Hob asks. "When you're here because of shame, I guess."

"I am always both," says Desire. "But." They smile sweetly, and it actually does look sweet, for once. "I am merely here to hold your hand."

Hob must look at them with an expression of vague disgust, for they snort and roll their eyes.

"Not you, Robert. You!" They gesture broadly at the entire inn. "Death is always going on and on about serving humanity. I know how to do my job too, you know."

They frown at him, at the idea he might think otherwise, and it's-- it's actually kind of sweet, how much they care about this. It really is.

"That's sweet," he says, and Desire grumbles. Hob can't help but smile.

"I take the charge of those who live in the heart of Desire very seriously," they sniff. Their gaze slants over Hob's shoulder, watching something across the room. "Relatedly, if that man at the bar follows through on his desire to say something homophobic to those children on their date, I am going to shoot him."

"Ooookaaayyy," Hob says, snapping his fingers in front of their eyes until their attention turns back to him. Hob's bartender will handle any issues; he would really rather not have an Endless making a scene.

Desire smiles placidly at him. "What was I saying? Ah, yes. Desire and shame go hand in hand. Almost like dreams and nightmares, you might say."

Hob goes still again, on instinct. "Right."

"My sister and I are very close, even if we are not, actually, opposites. Dream and I were close, once." They drag their finger around the rim of Hob's glass. "Wanting. Dreaming. So similar, and yet, so different, too. It hurts, to really let yourself want what you've dreamt of. It hurts to desire, don't you think? It's sharp, like a blade."

"Yes," Hob says. "It is."

"Mmm. But shame... shame is like a heavy, warm blanket. It makes you want to just--" they mime pulling fabric over their head-- "disappear. My brother and I have a very complicated relationship. Perhaps, one day, we will be on better terms again, and he can tell me about his desires, and I can tell him about my dreams. I would love to know what it feels like."

Hob isn't sure if he's putting the pieces of this meandering conversation together correctly, but whatever he is picking up on, he doesn't like the sound of.

"Dream is always going on and on and on and on about the importance of dreams and it's so annoying but you know what? I'm starting to think he's right." They give Hob a warning glance. "Do not tell him I said that. But, yes, I'm afraid that desires without dreams hand in hand are just--" they slide their hand across the table and let it stop at the edge. "Impotent. Static. And god knows what good dreams even are without desire but Dream will never admit that."

"So you're what," Hob says, even though he knows this is not what this is about, "trying to mending fences?"

Desire smiles sunnily. "I just want him to call me. I'm bored, and he's spent far too much time in my sister's realm recently."

Then they stand in one fluid motion.

"What are you saying," Hob asks. He feels sort of faint, whiplashed.

"Oh, I've said nothing, I'm doing nothing. I merely don't want to have to fill an empty seat next June, that is all. I'll be far too busy." They wink, and then they're gone.

Hob sits still for a long time, after. He's still not sure he understood... all of that. He understands that the Endless aren't supposed to interfere in each other's affairs and that sometimes riddles result.

What he does understand is that if Desire, of all people, has decided to be helpful, then he definitely has something to be concerned about. Something he needs to do something about.

He shakily drains the rest of his glass, then stands. Hob has never gotten anywhere by being static.

Time to go try to do something about it.

[wtfgaylittlezooid]

I absolutely love how much King just loses it as season 3 goes on. Like in his first appearances he obviously just wants to trap and manipulate the color gang so they’re out of his way, but by the finale you cannot convince me he’s not trying to kill them.

He goes out of his way to pull them back into the line of fire when he could trap them again, like when Red starts hitting him and King starts forcing his head into the beam, Green tries pulling Red away with the fishing hook, but King keeps Red with him so he can bring him back to the attack

[clementineskesh]

it's so real and important to me that palisade gets everyone balence posting like we talk about it a lot but valence is truuuuly haunting this narrative and haunting brnine's personal narrative specifically goddamn. they're so important their name doesn't even need to be spoken and brnine has a situationship pokedex which is compelling and fun and great in its own right and valence is still there in the background of all of it