#yall things are BAD

[a-romantics-guide-to-life]

𝜗𝜚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩 𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔂𝓸𝓾 ᡣ𐭩 ⊹˚₊𝜗𝜚

trigger warning, there is a lot of descriptions of depression, not eating, sadness, grief, and just generally angsty feelings BUT I PROMISE THERE IS COMFORT just please be cautious and just know that if this felt a little too real, you are not alone (more notes at the end)

Your very being felt like it was being ripped out of your chest. 

Invisible claws marring your chest as they hungrily are away at your happiness, making you feel empty and cold. Leeches ate away, sucking love and kindness out of your very soul, worming their way through your every vein. Your eyes burned with the scalding hot tears of your fury and sorrow. 

However, it was your heart that cried out in agony the most. It was as if all the warmth of life had been ripped, shredded, torn, and massacred from your life.

The pain officiated the marriage between your soul and utter despair.

Your father had found out about your ‘little affair’ with Billy yet ,it was nothing of the sort at all. Your love and being had been devoted to Billy, clinging onto his every word, breath, and moment with him for dear life. You felt the butterflies fluttering in your belly every time you even dared think about those sapphire eyes and his warm hands. You felt the cool scales of desire slither up your back and around your legs whenever Billy kissed you. You felt the pounding of your heart with every deep chuckle Billy let slip past his lips and boisterous laugh that left your painted mouth.

For once in your life, you had a reason to smile. 

In fact you had talked and laughed your throat as rough as sandpaper whenever you found yourself with Billy. You couldn't hide the bright smile you had lost with your mother or the same curious eyes Billy’s lil brother had. 

Of course, Billy loved you for it. He never wanted you to hide yourself from him. He wanted to be a man worthy of your attention. He wanted to be a man you could be yourself with. He yearned to be a man you could open up too or lean on when things get rough. And most importantly, he wanted to be a man worthy of your love.

That’s all Billy had sought out in his life, love. He desperately screamed out for anyone to hear, pleading and begging to find love, to be loved, to love. He loved his Pa so much that it hurt to lose the memory of his face smiling at him. He loved his lil brother Jo so much that it hurt to watch him grow weaker and weaker with every minute they were in that damned house with Antrim in New Mexico. And Billy had hurt the most when his own loving Ma had been stolen away from him last. Her death had hit him the hardest because in truth, she was all Billy had left.

He had felt so empty after losing all he held dear. He started struggling and hurting people that didn’t do anything to deserve his anger and depression, his wrath and grief. He drank the nights away and even sometimes forgot to eat until his skin was so sickly and his stomach ate away at his bones. 

His world had lost all its color. His days blended into brown and gray, each leaving him with nothing but a cold desolate plain where his heart should have been. 

Sometimes, he’d beg the stars, the moon, anyone to take him next. Sometimes he wished for a death so swift just so he could remember the sound of his Pa’s full laugh, fall asleep with Jo once more, and finally tell his Ma of all his adventures.

Yet that all changed when he had met you.

Billy started praying that he won’t be taken by the Reaper tomorrow just so he could greet you good mornin’ and good evenin’. He started to find his will to live again and he found that his days were no longer cold and bleak but rather bright, filled with warm oranges and reds. 

Being with you had brought his heart back to life, beating every single time he thought of you whether that was alone in the comfort of his bed or with you in the fields where you often met. 

His heart beat with life as you laughed, prancing around the field, picking flowers and fashioning them into a crown which you always placed delicately onto Billy’s hair rich as ripe wheat hung in loose, tousled waves from his weathered hat. He cherished and kept each sticky flower crown in his place until they were frail and decaying. 

You cherished every single moment together, kissing each other breathless, cuddling underneath giant trees earning respite from the harsh sun that freckled Billy’s face.

Yet, every high has come down.

And your world had come crashing down as your father bore down upon you the full might of his fury and unadulterated anger. He had called you a whore, meaningless hoe, he took every single thing you had considered dear and flung them at you as if they were burdens. He screamed at you for being so reckless and childish.

Worst of all, he told you that no one would ever be able to love you.

And what did you do?

You believed him.

You believed every single venomous lie he spouted at you. You curl further and further into the valley of your mind as he shreds your skin to shreds with his words as sharp as shards of glass. They nicked your skin as your happiness and joy seeped out of you like thick red blood, wounds you would never recover from.

You ran away that night. Stole one of his horses and rode off into the distance. You rode and rode through the cover of night until you reached the only other place you could, the tree.

You sat underneath it, the sky blanketed by the starry night sky. You screamed and sobbed, scalding tears flowing from your red cheeks. You wailed your voice hoarse, weeped until the tears dried up. Your head pounding from crying the night away. You rubbed your eyes as you shook from the waterfall of tears that fell onto the pillowy earth beneath you.

It wasn’t until the morning when Billy would find you. He had been riding, taking his stallion on a trot which he usually found himself riding to your little haven away from the prying and judging eyes of those in town. 

Billy was surprised to say the least when he found you curled up under your tree. Billy’s heart raced, what had happened to you? You were still in that darlin’ little dress you had been wearing before, meaning that you had to have been out here all alone for some time.

As he moved closer to you, he noticed the slow rise and fall of your chest with each small breath you took. His aquamarine eyes roved over your face as he took a seat next to where you lay. His hand instinctively brushes your hair away from your face. Your face was red and eyes were rubbed raw. His thumb ran slow circles on your cheek. Have you been crying? Why? Had it been something he said? He did?

As if you could feel Billy’s presence, you started to stir, your nose twitching amongst the tall blades of the grass. Your arm hurt but the pain was nothing like the tsunami of remembrance that crashed over you. 

“G’mornin’ darlin’,” Billy smiled, hand resting on your cheek.

Cold hot shame washed over you next. Billy had found you? How? How long had you been out?

You straightened up, combing your fingers through your hair, looking down at the grass bed you had slept in last night. Your stomach dropped, your skin going sick as you felt tears well up in your eyes threatening to cascade your still damp cheeks. You bit your lip and shut your eyes, willing the tears away. Naturally, that didn’t work as the tears started to well up even more. You crushed your lip even harder to stop yourself from sobbing. You hated crying and showing weakness, you hated that you cried always turning your head away or crying in the solitude of your pillow. 

Billy immediately sensed your distress, bringing his large hands to your shoulders to comfort you. You shook his warm hands off, mourning the feel of his hands on you.

“‘Ey, pretty girl, what's the matter?” He brought his hands to your cheek as he carefully tilted your head up to look at him. 

You let out a soft whimper as the tears ran down your cheeks, your nose red. You shook as you cried more and more, using your sleeves to wipe the tears away, praying they would stop. 

“Aw, darlin’, come here.” His deep whiskey voice crashed into your ears. You opened your eyes, hazy from the tears that continued to cascade down your face.

Billy opened his arms, inviting you into the warmth of his embrace. You sobbed crashing into him. You buried your face into his shoulder, shaking and sobbing even more. You wrapped your arms around him, his warm body enveloping you. He gently brought his arms around you, cradling you against him as he soothingly rubbed up and down your back.

Billy stayed quiet as you let all of your sobs and weep out. He knew that he couldn’t know how you were hurting, opting to just be there with you. God knows that it was all he needed when he had lost his father, brother, and mother. He didn’t need their words of condolence or their optimistic words. All he needed was someone to lean on, which is all he wanted to be for you.

And so you sat there, as Billy heard your wails and cries, vowing that he would replace them with laughs and smiles later. But for now, he was there to feel with you, after all, that was all he needed. 

Billy held you tightly and lovingly that day, and that was all you needed, to know that someone was there for you, that someone knew how it felt. Most importantly, you and Billy knew that there were no words that could comfort you, but you felt the love Billy felt for you as he sat with you there underneath the tree, as he sat with you as you told him what your father had said, as he lay there with you that night vowing he would never leave.

And Billy had understood your love as you kissed him that day in church, as you vowed to love and to cherish in sickness and in health, until death do you part.

this has absolutely been influenced by my own struggles and everyone copes differently, but writing is one of the ways that i cope with not so happy feelings so I just wanted to share a little glimpse at my experience with sad-der feelings

i hope that this has brought some comfort to you because writing this has absolutely helped me work through some of my own struggles even if i find solace in writing fantastical stories such as these and again, just know that you are not alone

thank you for reading! - emi

[gibbearish]

love when ppl defend the aggressive monetization of the internet with "what, do you just expect it to be free and them not make a profit???" like. yeah that would be really nice actually i would love that:)! thanks for asking

[ryssbelle]

Drew a bunch of Marinettes in a bunch of different artists styles it was a lot of fun!!

Artists who's styles I mimicked: @buggachat @hamsternamedmarinette @ladybeug @sabertoothwalrus and @anna-scribbles all epic artists 🤟😎

[sketchy-tour]

Redrew some of my old daycare attendant doodles as stress relief today

[fellowfights]

Y'all non-disabled folk are pissing me off. Actually mouthwashing fans. Someone does not DESERVE disability and disability isn't "karma" or "justice".

[kenchann]

a lost shade...

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

---------------

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."

[daily-odile]

odile with a gun perhaps

gun

[bunnyboy-juice]

NO MORE ASSOCIATING THINGS WITH FEMMES ONLY BECAUSE THEY ARE PINK!HYPERFEM FEMMES ARE GREAT AND I LOVE YOU CAMPY FEMMES WHO EMBODY PINK BUT ALSO JESUS CHRIST CAN YOU GUYS NOT GO MORE THAN ONE DAY W/O TRYING TO SHOEHORN FEMMES INTO BEING ONLY PINK UWU BABIES. I AM FEMME AS IN GRASS AS IN DIRT AS IN TREE BARK AS IN WEEDS SPROUTING THROUGH THE SIDEWALK CEMENT. FEMME AS IN GENDER NONCONFORMITY AS IN FUCK YOU MY FEMININITY IS WHAT *I* SAY IT IS. FEMME AS IN DEPTH AND DARKNESS AND WARMTH AND TERROR. FEMME AS IN CAVES. FEMME AS IN LIGHTNING. FEMME AS IN AN AMALGAMATION OF TRAITS THAT I HAVE DECIDED ARE FEMININE REGARDLESS OF WHAT SOCIETY SAYS. FUCK IS IT THAT HARD TO UNDERSTAND?!???

[pinkeoni]

will byers x 'stranger things' pilot script + 'montauk' pitch deck

[tomatoart]

too much

[avintagekiss24]

Yall tried to jump me a couple years back for saying that Black people and POC aren’t the same, and to not ever include me in that POC category… lol. Just look at the breakdown of the election results by race and try and tell me I’m wrong. It’s Black people verses every fucking body.

[pinkpeony1]

forever mad at people for hating annabeth’s reaction to percy choking akylys. I don’t know man if my best friend/boyfriend literally took control of a gods domain with powers he’s never used before and enjoyed it (even if briefly) i would be scared too and it probably reminded her of luke and i think what a lot of people forget about that scene is that percy didn’t like how he acted and described it like something was breaking in him. she needed to stop him. they balance each other, that’s the whole point!

[toytulini]

listen im ace and im pro kink at pride and whatever, but the way some of yall are wording your posts in response to the backlash against it is uh. really taking me back to the ace shitcourse era.

yall know theres nothing wrong with being a "virgin", right? that its not inherently shameful to have not had sex, to never have sex, even if youre not ace, even if you do want to have sex someday, like, its fine that you haven't had sex?

maybe if your problem is that theyre trying to police your behavior and shame you for expressing your sexuality, you can say that? instead of resorting to "haha stupid virgin gets no bitches" like my god. do you not hear how fucking regressive that attitude is? i know, i know, youre "joking".

get a better joke

[babysitterpng]

sketchdump

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny covered his nose with his hand. Where ever he landed smelled absolutely foul, like rotten fruit and burning tires mixed with chem lab.

"Remind me to bring a face mask the next time I explore the Infinite Realms." He muttered, before kicking a soda can down the alley he was in and being repulsed by the squelch sound it made when it came into contact with a very questionable looking puddle, "Better yet, a gas mask." He glanced at the puddle again, "Or I could go full Hazmat." Clockwork had told him this world was full of superheros and villians and to steer clear of it, but once he learned there were aliens in this world he couldn't help himself. Danny had always been weak to his curiosity, but he liked to believe he was cautious, and chose to stay in his Phantom for for added protection.

Turning on his heel he exited onto a deserted street lined on one side by a chain-link fence. The sky above him was filled with clouds so ominous and dark that Danny honestly couldn't tell you if it was night or day, all he knew was that it was going to rain soon and hopefully these awful smells would be drowned out by the downpour.

Danny got his wish only minutes later. Thankfully Phantom was unbothered by the cold and could just bask in the rain as it fell apon him. A lesser known fact about ghosts is that thier clothes are made from thier ectoplasm and are part of thier bodies, much like a second layer of skin, so one would be able to feel things on thier clothes as easily as they would with thier bare skin. The level of sensitivity varies with the type of clothing however. All this to say Danny loved the feeling of the rivulets of rainwater traveling down his ghostly hazmat suit.

He was so preoccupied with enjoying the sensation that he didn't notice anything was wrong until he was jolted forward from the weight of someone landing on his back. The person was quick and precise, taking no time at all to have his wrists pinned behind his back and- weirdly enough- thier teeth digging into the material around his neck.

His parents designed the Hazmat suit Danny was wearing not only to deal with dangerous chemicals, but to fight supernatural foes. The area around the neck was reinforced with the intention of protecting against fatal gunshots and decapitations so naturally someone's jaw wasn't going to be enough to break through to his neck.

Danny let out a laugh as the person kept chewing on his neck like a confused puppy. Oh, Danny thought, they've gone feral. It was odd for someone to go feral but it could occur when a person has gone through something traumatic recently or through extreme stress. It made sense since the person ridding piggy back on him was dressed like a superhero. Danny wondered if that was why the person didn't have a scent. Danny learns facepalmed when he remembered that scentblockers existed and not everyone's scent dramatically changed whenever they went out as a hero. The scent change was probably one of the few things that have kept him alive up to this point to be honest.

"So, I guess you're not going to tell me why you're chewing on my neck like the worlds most pathetic vampire, are you?" No one deserves that title more than the fruitloop to be honest. He made a mental note to use that one against Vlad the next time he saw him.

Chewy whined at this, seeming to slump a bit from the apparent failure to bite him. What was that about? Was this actually a vampire? How would a vampire even react to Dannys ecto-blood combo meal anyway? Would it be like food poisoning? Or would it taste amazing from one undead to another. "I'm not exactly human, are you sure you wanna bite me? I might not taste so good." Danny warned, but the moment he mentioned letting the person bite him they were eager again.

Danny chuckled and unzipped the material only a bit before it was loose enough to move out of the way. The vampires bite came with a sharp pain like he expected but there was no suction. No drinking of blood. Just some weirdo biting Danny on the neck. Huh.

Danny hoped he didn't get rabies from this.

He must have accidentally said that out loud as there was a small laugh from the rooftops above them. There stood another person in a superhero outfit with some really tall dude dressed as a giant bat, and that was when Danny decided to bail. It was one thing to let a maybe vampire bite you in a random street in the middle of the night but more of them? And ones a big scary furry? Hard pass.

Phantom did as Phantoms do and went invisible and intangible, escaping from Biteys jaws and startling the heros. He ignored the distressed whine Munchy let out after loosing their spookyest chew toy and quickly rubbed the scent gland near dannys jaw on the top of thier head as an act of comfort before bolting.

----

Danny poked at the bite mark on his neck. Screw rabies, he better not get turned into a werewolf. He didn't need that on top of his ghostly crap. Sam seemed fascinated by the mark, after all, it wasn't every day that Danny got a scar, especially one so obvious. Most injuries heal quickly and leave no trace of him ever being injured in the first place which helped a lot in keeping his secret identity.

Luckily Danny hadn't needed to lie to mom and dad. He truthfully told them about some wierdo jumping off of a nearby rooftop and plunging thier teeth into his neck and that two other people had tried to corner him during this. He assured his mom that he had gotten away quickly but was a little shaken by it and his dad praised him for being brave and managing to escape.

That was nice. But he still had to figure out what was up with this bite...and why he felt so compelled to go back to that city.

Back to that hero.

-----

Aka an A/B/O au where in Danny's universe all the Alphas are extinct and the betas followed soon after and the DC universe all the Omegas went extinct and betas followed after . Not like a "they finally went extinct in the 1700s after centuries of thier numbers dwindling" thing and became a myth/fairytale (tho I like that too) but a "this might be the missing link between cave men and modern humans" kinda thing.

Its up to you which bat bit Danny and exactly what that means. I love abo aus without smut cause there's so much potential for chaos and I am very much ace.