#you'll never know~

[shenaniganeryfromtheabyss]

he's getting added to the polycule.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Dead beat down

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[oh-snapperss]

pvp civilization fic where everytime they farm evbo on the iron level for his life as he's bleeding out on the prison floor he gets flashes of a different life where he can see the sky and someone is smiling at him and there's so much world to explore and he's wearing purple boots but that life isn't one he can live and instead he has to keep dying to live

[bumbleboa]

@calysto1395 dropped a Howl's Moving Castle AU in our chat and I could not stop thinking about it, so here are some Howl!Law sketches

[microvibing]

I like ward *gives him an existential crisis*

Character From marble sky comic by @ somerandomdudelmao, you should def read it right fucking now cuz its awesome

[uncanny-tranny]

I recently had to do a project in one of my psych classes, and man, I knew that CBT was used for every little thing, but seeing over and over, "do CBT! CBT is the best for every mental illness!" was so jarring. I'm absolutely biased because of my own experiences, but I just don't think it's as universal a treatment model as it's touted.

If you didn't benefit from CBT, it's not because you're lazy or didn't try hard enough or lacked intelligence or foresight into your own needs. Frankly, it's a therapy model that (I think) shouldn't be the only readily-accessible model and among the only therapy models covered by insurance. Some of us should not be treated in a CBT model and that's okay. It's not a sign of poor character or unreasonable demands, and if you don't think it's a model that works for you, then it's your right to express that!

[watermelonfrog2]

In honour of pride month and it being 4 am and me being annoyed, here comes an aspec post. Hugging is not inherently sexual or romantic. Cuddling is not inherently sexual or romantic. Sharing a bed with someone is not inherently sexual or romantic. Holding hands is not inherently sexual or romantic. Saying "I love you" is not inherently sexual or romantic.

[shanastoryteller]

The day his deal comes due, Sam goes missing.

Dean tells himself it’s nothing, that he’s gotten caught up in some research, some last ditch, hail mary nonsense and that he’s just turned his phone off and everything’s fine, that he wouldn’t do something stupid, that he wouldn’t break his promise.

He tells himself that for the first two minutes after he cracks his eyes open and sees the empty bed across from him, and the first time his call goes straight to voicemail, and not much after that. Sam’s broken his promises over things significantly less important to him than his brother’s life.

Dean is dressed and in the Impala five minutes later, heart thudding wildly in his chest. He calls Bobby, Ellen, everyone he can think of, but none of them have heard from Sam, none of them have eyes on him. Sam was with him last night, even if he boosted a car, there’s only so far he can get.

He keeps calling, keep searching, desperate to stop whatever he’s trying to do, to find him, to see his brother one last time before he’s dragged to hell. To make sure Sam is going to be okay after he’s dragged to hell. But the hours tick down, the sun sets, and he can’t find a trace of him. He’s so exhausted and heart sick that when he goes to call Sam again it takes him a long time to read the number on his phone, eyes swimming, the time not making any sense.

1:03

That’s not possible.

That’s not –

His phone rings, blocking out the time with Bobby’s name across the screen, and he answers it but his throat is too thick to say anything.

“Dean?” Bobby says tentatively. “Are you – I got an email from Sam. It just said, I mean, did–“

“What did it say, Bobby?” he asks, even though he’s sure he knows.

Bobby sucks in a breath at his voice, because he knows just as well as Dean that he should be screaming in hell right now, not answering his phone. “To take care of you.”

Dean drops the phone, hears Bobby still talking as he grips the wheel and presses his forehead against the back of his hands. This is what he’d been afraid of. This is why he hadn’t wanted to mess with the deal in first place. This is the one thing he’d begged Sam not to do.

It's easy to find a crossroad.

The demon is laughing at him when it shows up, wicked grin in a pretty face. “That didn’t take you long, boy.”

It’s a different demon than the one he delt with, obviously, but Dean figures they all know the same shit, since demons are a bunch of gossips. “This wasn’t the deal. My brother lives and I die.”

“You traded your soul for your brother’s life,” she corrects, so amused by all this that all he wants to do is kill her, to exorcise her, to make her scream. “Just like your father traded his for yours. There’s no reason Sammy can’t make his own trade. Man, but is your family fucked up. Maybe if you’d just settled down like little Sammy wanted, you wouldn’t all be bargaining for each other’s lives like haggling at a flea market.”

“Untrade it,” he snaps. “My soul for him alive, come on, no year, no waiting, you bring him back and take me to hell right now.”

She laughs in his face. “You don’t have anything to bargain with, boy.”

“My soul,” he repeats, “That’s what this is about, isn’t?”

“Oh, it’s what it’s all about,” she says. “But Sammy’s a clever boy. You know that, don’t you? He didn’t trade his soul for your life, he didn’t have to. You didn’t die. No, he traded it for your soul. Sorry, honey, but your credits been declined.”

At first he doesn’t understand. Sam traded his soul for Dean’s, exactly, so there’s no reason he can’t trade it right back. Then he gets it.

She sees the exact moment it clicks, the moment despair and horror sweep across his face too quickly for him to stop them. “That’s right. Little brother owns your soul now. For some reason he didn’t think you’d take proper care of it. You have it because that’s where he wants it, but no one will be making any deals with you, Dean Winchester. You can’t sell a soul you don’t own.”

“You can’t,” he has to clear his throat, “you can’t just come in and change things at the eleventh hour-”

“Eleventh hour?” she interrupts. “Sammy made his deal eleven months ago.”

His mouth is so dry he can’t speak.

“Isn’t it funny?” she asks, head cocked to the side. “All this time, the deal he’s been trying to get out of wasn’t yours, but his own. Maybe the two of you might have even managed it, except you just wouldn’t help, would you? Insisting that he not research, that he not look for a way out, and he spent so much time trying to convince you, coaxing you to talk about your feelings when he knew you were safe, all he because he thought it would make you feel better when he was gone, because he couldn’t tell you the truth and talk about how scared he was, so talking about your fear was as close as he could get.”

Dean’s going to be sick. “Don’t – please, please, I’ll give you anything-”

“You don’t have anything,” she says, gleeful. “You want to know why I agreed? The thing that made it just too delicious to refuse? Sammy’s down there, just starting in on an eternity of torture, and all he has to do get out of it is give up your soul. It’s his, after all, and he can put the original deal back in place any time he chooses. Just one moment of weakness on his end and his beloved big brother will be on the rack instead.” She sighs happily. “It’s almost as good as anything we’re doing to him down there, the knowledge that if he slips up for even a moment then it would all be for nothing. I couldn’t have found a way to twist the knife deeper if I tried.”

There’s vomit crawling its way up his throat and he has to swallow it down before he can speak. “I can’t – I’ll do whatever you want, please, there has to be something.”

She leans forward, cruelty and delight shining in her eyes. “The only thing you can do is what you’ve been telling your precious baby brother to do for the past year. Accept it. Move on. Live a good life so his sacrifice isn’t in vain.”

God. How can she – how can Sammy expect him to –

He’s doubling over, finally upchucking what little he’s ate today, and he’s dry heaving on the dirt when he hears the fading sound of her laughter.

This can’t be real. This has to be Hell, he has to be in it right now. He has to be.

[columboscreens]

[rodrickheffeley]

spiderpunk is so he/they/she coded

[arthursfuckinghat]

I know I've shown it before but I can't stop looking at this picture and smiling to myself without thinking about the fact that Charles taught Arthur how to use a bow.

And not just any bow - Charles' own bow. Even with the rough circumstances they were in at the time, Charles was still patient enough to teach Arthur how to use the bow efficiently. He didn't make fun of Arthur's skill level, he didn't criticize him, he didn't shout or yell at him afterwards, Charles simply guided Arthur and let him learn at his own pace.

If you shoot the deer but it doesn't die? He still helps you. If you miss completely? He still helps you and encourages you to try again. If you need to track down the deer again? He will still help you. He will still help Arthur. This wasn’t just a lesson in hunting; it was a moment of trust and respect.

Charles knew that Arthur was perfectly capable with a gun, but he still taught him an incredibly valuable life skill that day - a skill Arthur eventually honed.

[wistfulwatcher]

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji goes to Lotus Pier (No relation to the AU of the same name)

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[nixeau]

Here's you daily reminder, that Achilles fought a water god in its own territory and won, just to hunt and kill the man that killed the other of his soul.

[egophiliac]

Hello! Hello! I hope your having an amazing day! Your art always cheers me up and makes me happy! Is there any character (can be from anywhere) in particular that you love but don't speak about a whole ton?

thank you! 💜🩷💜🩷 this might be cheating because I did use to talk about them a truly annoying amount, but there will always be a place in my heart for the OG bugsters, Poppy and Parad from Ex-Aid:

(Parad should be allowed to drink Baja Blast) (I don't think Emu would let him, but he SHOULD)

[fruitypieq]

I really do love following people who hate each other. I'll see some shit like "STOP POSTING ABOUT TAYLOR SWIFT SHE SUCKS SHE IS THE WORST" followed by someone else reblogging 5 Taylor Swift gifsets in a row