#this was really emotional to write

[abstractfrog]

Happy 1 year anniversary to Mr Sherlock Holmes! Here's a litttleee celebratory comic from me

[whump-in-the-closet]

what are ur fav tropes for stoic whumpees? love da blog

stoic whumpee tropes that are a 100/10:

"I'm fine" and then immediately collapsing in front of their loved ones in a bleeding pile, revealing a hidden injury that has festered for far too long

silent, muffled crying with shaking shoulders and a bloody hand clamped over their mouth because they view crying as weak and beneath them and they're stronger than this, they're stronger, they can take it--

the moment they close their eyes in defeat and it's all over and they fucking know it, and when they open their eyes again all that remains is a glassy-dead stare

adamantly refusing medical treatment even when they need it. Shoving away everyone who comes close to them, a choked sound in their throat, fighting back with everything that's left in them.

when they kneel at Whumper's feet, eyes on the ground, white-lipped and tense. The only betrayal of emotion is their clenched fists and tight breathing. In every other way, they're compliant.

refusing to talk about what they endured at Whumper's hands after they're rescued, but the scars tell the story for them. They don't have to say a word, but their team's pitying gaze follows them wherever they go

normally unaffectionate and distant but exhausted and defeated they rest their head on Caretaker's shoulder or Whumper's lap, just finally admitting--nonverbally-- that they can't take it

reversely, more willing to be tortured than to ask for help-- If I'm breathing, I'm fine

stitching their own wounds back up with an unsteady hand, painful stitch after painful stitch. Deep breath and pull. Working in a dimly lit apartment with bleeding clothes on the floor around them and the bed unmade

sacrificing themself for their team. "Take me! Do what you want to me. Not them." And their team watching as the torture takes its slow toll and Whumpee-- the one they look up-- falls apart.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

He is at his limit.

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[coffeebanana]

Sorry if some of these overlap a little/if I left out something obvious kajbdsjkd I tried my best haha. And that's why there's an "other" option!

[tea-cat-arts]

Shen Yuan getting transported into pidw isn't "the system punishing him for being a lazy internet hater," but instead representative of "step 1 of the creative process: getting so mad at something you decide to go write your own fucking book" in this essay I will

[randomminty]

Five billion octopath 2 scribbles i feel sick

[vm-haunts]

Little Prayers

A shrine is where gods and spirits resides, a little kid read from a book.

Thinking of that, the kid made a shrine in his corner of the apartment.

It consist of one candle and two prized books, made scared by a few candy wrappers and the prayers of a little child.

A few days later, a tiny wisp of something moved in.

[thread] [ao3 version]

...

The spirit is... weak.

Weak to the point of almost fading, when it found this tiny empty shrine and moved in.

It wasn't always this weak, maybe. Once upon a time, it might even have been strong. With a solid body, a real name.

Now it has none of that, just a wisp that held no memory nor shape.

The spirit confessed to the child, in a voice that isn't made from sound, that it isn't a god, nor can it offer protection in return. That it is sorry for taking the offering but couldn't brought anything in return.

The child doesn't know the difference though, between a god and a spirit, between then and now. Nor does he particularly cares. His little shrine worked and that's the important bit. The child told the spirit exactly that, and got a flicker in the candle light as a nod.

So the spirit stayed, in the little shrine of one candle and two books. Listening to the prayers of a child, spoken more to a friend than a god.

Maybe it can offer something back after all, the spirit thought. A presence, a friend. That'll be... not good or enough, but nice, maybe.

...

Jason is- not lucky, no.

Lucky would mean his mom is healthy, or never had gotten sick; lucky would mean his dad not getting caught, or not needing to work anything illegal at all. That would be real luck, and Jason don't have that kind of luck.

But Jason isn't absolutely unlucky either, he reasoned. His parents aren't good people by the standards of most, but they do love him, when they're able to.

That's better luck than a lot of kids in the Alley.

Jason tells that to the little god- spirit, he isn't sure he knows or cares of the difference. The wisp living in his shrine wavers, and the shadows whispers again that they're sorry they can't help him.

Jason is fine with that. The spirit staying with him in the little shrine is enough luck, maybe.

...

Then, one day, Jason's luck ran out.

Well, not really. There's a lot that can happen to a kid left alone in the Alley, and Jason had avoided the worst of those things so far. It's the same kind of not-quite-luck that he seems to had, and Jason is greatful for it. Sometimes.

Strangely, the spirit follows him still, even without the tiny shrine to hold them. So Jason shares his day and what food he could find, like he always did. He'll eat the offering too, after, like he always did. No sense wasting perfectly fine food.

The spirit flickers sometimes, speaks with him in a way that isn't really speaking, and Jason is... not content, but greatful, maybe, to be not entirely alone.

[officialspec]

ill be honest as much as i love to criticise the use of fatphobia for comedy ill never be able to hold the fatphobic jokes in kung fu panda against it

like yea those movies are guilty of dipping into The Usual Tropes for a cheap laugh but not only is the character writing for the fat characters the strongest and most sympathetic ive Ever seen literally just the character designs of the pandas in the 3rd movie get me choked up sometimes. theyre all so appealing and clearly treated with the same care and attention as everyone else without copping out and making them Barely Fat. po is already a size that doesnt exist in film protags and hes still the thinnest person in that whole village and that meant a lot to me

[munsonfamilyband]

I’ve been on a Soulmates kick today and just saw a fic where Steve has two marks - one for Robin and one for Eddie. And it’s got me thinking.

Of course, he doesn’t know who his marks are for. He only knows that they’re two people because they look so different. Soulmarks show up where you and your soulmate will have the first skin-skin contact, and they have the words they will say when that happens written in their handwriting.

Steve has one covering his palm, the handwriting is small and sharp, all angles and no rounded edges. That one says “Steve, we need to run”. It seems scared, the wording, but he refuses to think about it. The other mark he has is covering his left hip, curling like someone was holding him from the side. This handwriting is completely different from the other one and is best described as chicken scratch. It’s big and messy, letters flowing into each other like the writer didn’t even pick up their pen between each stroke. That one says “I got you, just lean on me”. It seems less scared but there’s concern laced in the words that helps Steve feel less alone when he’s laying in bed late at night. That’s the only time he ever lets himself think about his soulmates, during the day he avoids it like the plague. His parents are soulmates and they barely speak, so soulmates can’t be all they’re cracked up to be. After Nancy never makes one of his marks tingle and burn he tries to give up on the idea entirely, figuring he can go on without a soulmate and be with Nancy - but then she breaks his heart and those late nights are all he has.

His first soulmark changes when he’s stuck underneath Starcourt mall the summer after he graduated. He had been working with a girl, Robin, who barely tolerated him on a good day and now she’s been sucked into his shitty world. When the alarms go off in the bunker he barely has a second to react before Robin is grabbing his hand and yelling at him, “Steve, we need to run!” His feet start moving and he yells back for her to be careful with his arm, even as he feels the tingling burn cover his palm and in that supply closet, leaning against the door next to Robin they make eye contact. In that short second of connection he knows that she felt it to, that he’s just found his soulmate and despite his fear he’s so happy that it’s her. Later, after they had both puked up their guts and he had confessed to having a crush on her, Robin told him about Mrs. Click’s class and Tammy Thompson and how she’s sorry that he’s stuck with a soulmate who can never love him back. Steve blinks and suddenly his two soulmarks make so much more sense.

“Robin, I have another soulmark. I don’t… I don’t think you were ever a romantic soulmate for me.” He watches the relief and, maybe even, joy cover her face and she launches herself at him in a hug, squeezing him tight and he returns the favor completely ignoring his own pain.

The other soulmate comes over 8 months after meeting Robin. He was so grateful for having her in his life but he still wanted that other piece, he loved Robin and she loved him but he wanted romantic love too. Unfortunately for Steve, just like with Robin, his other soulmark was triggered when he was fearing for his life. He had just been dragged through Watergate and made into a chew toy for a bunch of demobats. Steve was just trying to catch his breath when they all heard the bigger hoard approaching and he knew he had to run. He made it surprisingly far before the pain of each step started to settle in, his feet dragging more and more and his pace slowing when someone moved in beside him, wrapping one arm around his back to settle his hand on his hip. Eddie grabbed the arm closest to him and dragged it over his shoulders, giving Steve a grin. “I got you, you can lean on me.” This only made Steve completely trip; the sudden onset of tingling burning at his side so close to his currently bleeding wounds had his left leg collapsing under his weight.

“Why does this always happen when I’m in danger?” Eddie froze and then a laugh burst forward.

“That makes so much sense with context. C’mon let’s get you somewhere to sit and we can talk more when you’re not bleeding over me.”

When he and Eddie got to Skull Rock, he and Robin made eye contact and he watched her eyes flit down to where Eddie’s hand was on his side. Her eyes grew about three sizes and he just shot her the best grin he could. He didn’t care that he had been bleeding all over his soulmate for the past few minutes - he had gotten blood on Robin when they found out that they were soulmates, so it seemed fitting for him to be doing the same to Eddie.

Years down the road he would look back and laugh at the drama surrounding him finding both of his soulmates. Eddie even joked that the universe gave him two to make up for his shitty parents, and Steve wasn’t going to argue.

[arunneronthird]

okay fine i can deal with damian being a weeb but he'll be one on MY TERMS

[azzo0]

You can't tell me Bakugo does not burst into tears when he lays his eyes on his daughter in a wedding dress, waiting for him to walk her down the aisle.

As he stares at her from the entrance, he can't help but think she's grown up to be the prettiest lady ever. He feels his eyes sting, tears threatening to spill out if he blinks. He's reminded of when she was just a baby, her little fingers curled around his finger tight in a promise she'd never let go- except she was leaving now, off to be someone's wife.

At that moment, it all came back. The first time she crawled. Her first steps towards him. Her first word- an excited 'dada!' He remembers it all like it was yesterday. How fast had time flown by? It was like he just blinked, and his little princess was in a beautiful ivory wedding dress, with the sunlight casting a soft glow around her. She might be a grown woman, ready to begin a new chapter in her life, but in his eyes, there was always going be a little girl looking up at him with the brightest grin.

He's bawling his eyes out at this point as his daughter pats his back. It took a few moments for him to collect himself and wipe away the never-ending tears. He kisses her forehead one last time before letting the veil down her face, offering an arm for her to put a hand on, "Ready princess?"

"Yes, Dad," she smiles, looking up at her father, making a million flowers bloom in his chest.

[inkprilled]

I don't know where you are exactly, but I know you're looking at your phone, I know you're probably alone. So am I. It's nearly 10pm and I've been scrolling through Instagram reels all day, I haven't eaten or gotten up. But I've cried over people singing in the park to passers by, one women lost her mother and felt comfort in the songs. I've cried to family reunions and mother's singing lullabys to their babies, Ive felt this weight of grief for the things I want to experience, which is to not be so alone. But I still lay here day after day, I still like videos about things I hope to do someday. I'm not okay but I will be one day.

[russell-crowe]

house and wilson seeing each other for the first time in months in s08e02

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

We could have had it all...

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[floral-comet-whump]

Whumpee that deceives Whumper

They rack their brain to memorize every little movement, every indicator of Whumper's mood, every pattern. At some point, they even learn to predict Whumper.

They know what Whumper likes to see. They know what they want within a few minutes, what's going to happen to them. They're powerless to stop it.

Sometimes Whumper wants them to silently cry on the floor, so they do. It would be foolish not to conserve energy while they can.

Sometimes Whumper is already in a bad mood. They probe, both because the knowledge is invaluable and because then Whumper will take it out on them.

Whumpee has a little internal guide to how to take punishments. Begin as defiant, but still shake. Look like they're trying to conceal their fear. Gradually break. It starts off as a yelp or sob or whimper followed by an immediate insult, then Whumpee goes quiet for a bit until it's “too much,” begging quietly. And then it's as if a dam has been broken, frantically pleading for mercy, for a reprieve. They look at Whumper with wide, teary eyes, and both their true self and their facade just want it to stop.

Their cries turn quiet as their energy runs out, until they can't bear to look at anything. Their flinch at Whumper's hand on their chin doesn't need to be faked. Their distress is real, and they let themselves whimper. Whumper likes displays of exhausted weakness, it makes them feel as if they've won.

They lean into the little coos and pets Whumper gives after, trying not to gag. Alarms of panic ring through their head, and they acknowledge them.

It would be easier to lose themselves in the comfort after the torture. It would be so much easier to become a shell of a person. They already act like one. Why can't they give up?

The emotional exhaustion after they've been left alone. The dark quiet. Their steadying breath. The scent of both blood and anticeptic. The locked door. The pain.

They can escape once Whumper deems them broken enough to let out unsupervised. It's just a matter of time, just a matter of maintaining this act. A matter of trust from a sadistic torturer that keeps Whumpee in a basement for no reason other than their own pleasure.

They have to keep going.

[yeonjune]

Yeonjun about the strain he felt while preparing for his debut solo project ✙ "GGUM" MAKING FILM