#and everything bad

[plush-rabbit]

Selfish Moments

Summary: I wanted to write something soft and this has been in the docs for a while, so here it is!! 

Characters: Dabi and Shigaraki 

Word Count: 1.4K each -

Dabi:

It's become a routine for him to invade your home and make a mess of things. To have dirt and grime in the shape of his shoe stain the floor, to have picture frames bumped and knocked over when he stumbles into a room. It’s become addictive with the way that you allow him to do this, smiling softly and setting him down on the couch. And you clean him; you dab a white towel that has turned dirty with blood and ash. And when you smile and touch his face, wiping away at the dried blood that streaks down and falls to the floor, you lean over, and you kiss him sweetly. You tell him that he’s making a mess of things, and kiss his lips again, hands clutching at his shirt, desperate to keep him here, and he’s reminded how vile he is for having invaded your life. 

You’ve reminded him countless times how he’s always welcomed in your home, how you’ll have  a meal ready for him, warm and ready, made to perfection. You’ll shower him in love and care, in tenderness he’s only ever known in memories, and he’ll wonder if he could ever do the same for you. 

A part of him wants to. He wants to return the tenderness, the comfort and care that you’ve given him. He wants to be without debt, without having to lay awake and wish that he would have kissed you more, would have kissed you again and again if it meant that he didn’t have to guilt bleed through his lips and have his body aflame in wishing and wanting.

He doesn't need to hear you say an "I love you", doesn't even need for any words to be said out loud or whispered when he's asleep. He just wants to know that you do. And in these soft moments, when he's sitting on your couch, the smell of smoke and cheap cologne seeping into the fabric of your couch, he can pretend that you do. That you feel the same way that he feels for you. 

Loving you comes so easy to him. It's nice, and warm. It's welcoming, and it's you cleaning him up and making him a space in your home. It's him ruining you. It's him leaving scorched handprints on random pieces of furniture. Stealing hair ties and scarves. Leaving shirts for you to wash and for him to return to, his scent gone and replaced by yours. 

"Dabi." He can feel his heart race when you call his name. 

If you were to call him anything else, he thinks he would combust, explode into himself and scar you beyond belief. 

And yet, he wants to tell you to call him by his given name. He wants to know how that would sound, if it would sound as soft and adored as his chosen one does. And of course, he knows the answer. He knows that you’d cherish that name, that you’d whisper it to him, and never grow tired of it. If he were to tell you what his given name was, he’s positive that you’d hold it gently on your tongue, and you’d only tell it to him, and you’d never dare to whisper it anywhere else but in your room. 

He hums in response. His eyes haven’t left yours. 

"I asked if you wanted to spend the night." Your hands brush at the side of his head, pinching two fingers between a lock of hair and pulling at it, letting the soot fall to the floor. "It’s late and you look like you need sleep.”

His stomach churns at the thought of spending the night, twists and flips violently, and he hates how his heart sputters and jumps at the thought of sleeping in your bed. He wishes he could stare at you forever. He gives a crooked grin and stands up, watching as your hand falls and returns to you. "Lead the way," he says. 

You hand him clothes that are too pristine for him to wear. He knows that if he changed in front of you, he’d ruin it all, ruin your perception, ruin your floors, ruin the clothes that you’ve cared for. There’s no need for him to talk and explain himself as he walks into the bathroom and lets steam fog the mirror and he bites the insides of his cheeks when the water stings his back. He stands underneath it, watching the blood and grime swirl down the drain, gone forever, but the tile stays dirty, and he smells like milk and honey when he stands at the doorway, watching you read something.

It doesn’t take long for you to notice him, and when you do, you make space for him beside you.

In the night, through the blinds where moonlight comes in pieces, he watches you sleep. You've dropped all your defenses around him- there's no need for you to feel unsafe around him. And sometimes, he thinks that you're an idiot for that. Sometimes he wants to wrap his hands around your throat and have you wake up to him with blood painting at his cheeks and dripping onto you. He wants to be violent and bare his teeth at you, and spit fly when he yells. He wants you to cry and hate him. He wants all of the ugliness to show itself fully to you. 

But then you twitch and your hand finds his, even in slumber, you reach for him. And he hates himself for all he is is death and war. He wants to be soft. He wants to wake up in the morning with birds singing at the window sill, and the morning news muffled between the walls. He wants life to be with you where he doesn't have to part ways and sneak out through the window and be trapped in a box. He wants to lie down and kiss at your face and your hands and feel safe. He wants you to care for him, to ignore the blood on his hands.

He needs you to feel the same way- to want the same as he does.

“What are you thinking about?” You murmur with your eyes still closed and with sleep heavily laced into your words. 

“How’d you know I was awake?” He asks, desperate to keep his hand limp and not grip at you with ferocity.

“I can just tell.” A yawn interrupts your words, and you don’t speak again, but a light squeeze of your hand tells him that you’re waiting for his response.

He’s going to lie to you and even if you do know it’s a lie, you’re far too polite to confront him. “I was thinking about how I’m going to sneak out.” 

“You don’t have to,” you add. “You can spend the day and leave at night.” 

“Do you want me to stay?”

“I always want you to stay.” You say it without pausing, and it’s honest, and it makes him scowl. 

He hates how he needs to ask you if you want him to stay, and he hates it even more that you’ll never say no. “Okay,” he says without a fight. He hates himself for wanting your acceptance. You hum, and press yourself closer to him, your breathing soft and steady. “Only cause you’d twist my arm if I said no,” he adds, trying to save face, trying to ignore how tight his chest feels when you’re beside him.

When he's gone from your life, he needs you to cry. He needs to know that you sobbed and heaved and begged to be taken with him. He never wants you to heal from him. He wants to run you through the ground, leaving you too messed up for anyone else, the hole that he would leave too big and too great to ever be filled. He wants you to claw at the dirt and grass and beg for the world to swallow you whole- to search for a corpse that was never buried and never loved. 

All he wants is to sit at the table with you and share breakfast. He needs you to want and crave every part of him, the ugly and the wretched, the soft parts of him that only reveal themselves when you’ve turned a blind eye. 

Dabi is a tragedy at heart. It’s his birthright, the only one given to him.

-

Shigaraki Tomura:

The itching only stops for a moment. For a minute, he’s left without pain, left without having to claw at his neck and chest, the need and want to tear himself open, to rip out his skin and have his bones bare and bloody, can only disappear for so long. For a moment, he’s at peace, the nerves that have clawed and had bile pool under his tongue thinned and nothing more than a reminder of just moments ago. 

You’re on his lap, arms wrapped tight, and face hidden where his shoulder and neck meet. He can feel your breath, steady and warm, fan across him, and the only reason that he knows that you aren’t asleep, is because of the shapes that you trace over his forearm. 

Your fingertips are soft compared to his. 

He stares blankly into space, and he wants to speak. He wants to tell it all to you. All of his life, all of his day, all of thoughts; only if it meant that he could hear you speak to him, to know that you are real, and that he is loved. He thinks about the countless times that you were so eager to tell him anything and everything, and just knowing that it was him that had you seeing stars, made him eager and obsessive for you. He made you happy. You wanted to talk to him despite it all, despite who he is, and where he’s been.

He never wants to leave you. He never wants to move from this spot. He wishes that this moment would be forever still. Tomura wishes that you would stay curled up in his lap for all of eternity, frozen in time, frozen and loved, and he’d be victimless, trapped beneath you, wanting to forever feel your warmth. 

His hand hurts. The part where his fingers used to ache in pain and he wonders how long it’ll last, and he wonders if he could do anything to make it hurt more until he’s gritting his teeth and biting his tongue. 

It’s worse than an itch, but it’s all the same. The desire to poke at it, to make himself bleed, but also the knowing that it wasn’t him who got rid of his own appendages. It made things difficult for a while, and when he’d catch you staring at him, he knew that there was pity in your eyes. You’d treat him as if he were glass. You’d hold his hand delicately, fingertips brushing just at the edge of the scarring, ghosting over the marred flesh that wrinkled, and you’d get lost in those simple motions. 

Tomura has been under your gaze before, peered through your lashes, watched and terraced by your hand as you studied him in a way that made him feel all too seen. He craved those moments, needed you to look at him, through him, to see how red his irises are, and trace his scars, letting your fingertip brush at his lashes. 

He remembers being unable to breathe during those times, stiff and unmoving, afraid that even the simplest gesture would have you retreat and never look at him again. 

But after his fight, you shifted your focus to his hand. You’d cradle it gently, and when he went to change the bandages, you offered to change them for him. He heard your breath hitch, felt your breath on the sensitive skin and when you kissed at the center of his palm, too worried that you’d injured him with a featherlight kiss, he felt his whole hand go aflame. 

As if reading his mind, you grab at his hand, and finally, you move, and life returns to the world, and he is aware that at some point, he’s going to have to leave, and he’ll be cold without you.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, running the pad of your index finger up and down his, tracing over the lines on his knuckles. 

There’s an ache in his chest, tight and unforgiving, and it makes it difficult to breathe. “I hate meetings,” he mumbles. The bile in his mouth makes it difficult to swallow.

You breathe out a laugh, and swipe your finger in a curve, your index now tracing over his middle finger. “I’m not too fond of them either,” you admit, and you’re looking up at him. 

When he looks down, he finds it difficult to stay looking at you, but he wills himself to. “Why do you stay then?” His voice is strained, and once again, he’s unable to breathe. 

“I like being with you,” you answer earnestly. You smile up at him, it’s a slow smile that slowly stretches and you look down at his hand for a brief second before looking back up at him. “You’re gonna be busy for a while, and I wanna get in as much time as I can with you.”

Oh.

It’s difficult to keep looking at you after that statement. It’s enough to have his chest tighten and he looks away, turning his head to look at the door, wondering if someone will save him from this grief.

What you told him is true- he will be busy, and you sit around in boring meetings with people who you aren’t close to, to just be with him. All you want to do is spend time with him. It makes his chest hurt, and he’s unable to breathe, too aware of it to keep it normal, to make it seem like what you told him isn’t a big deal. 

“I want-” his voice cracks and he swallows whatever little spit he has- “I want to spend time with you too,” he says in a low whisper, unable to make it any bit louder. He’s positive that if he were to tell you this sentiment out loud then something bad would happen.

You return to hide your face in the crook of his neck, wrapping your arms around his, your hand sliding down to envelop his and he’s sure that that position couldn’t be comfortable, but even so, you stick with it, closing your eyes and keeping close to him.

His canines bite into the soft flesh behind his lips, and the pain isn’t nearly enough to have him distracted. The hand that you hold, that hand that has been through hell and ripped apart, burns, and the need to scratch and peel his skin grows great.

Even if he tries to keep himself composed around you, you know him. You know how he panics, and you kiss at his neck where his heart pumps and you can feel his pulse quicken, beat and pour blood and he’s sure that if it were possible, he’d gush blood out his body, leaking and staining your clothes and you’d hold him to your chest and coo nothing but soft words to him. 

He’d never hurt you. He’s made you cry and he’s apologized and kissed your tears and made broken promises that he would never dare to make you cry again. Of course, he’s still made you cry, and you still sought out comfort in him, pressing yourself against him, clinging and twisting his shirt in case he did just vanish into thin air. But, even so, he hopes that when you die, you are taken with him. You’re wrapped around him, clinging to him, stuck forever with him. He wants to take you to the grave, to keep you forever his. 

A part of him hopes that no matter what happens to him, that you would never move on. It’s selfish and cruel of him, but he wants it with his whole being. He could lie and tell you and wish to the stars that you’d end up with someone normal, with someone who can take you out, but he doesn’t want that. He wants you to sit in your room, holed up and blocking the outside, because you’d miss him too much. He wants you to never move on, that you’d grow out your hair because he touched it, and you could never part with his touch, not even with one that was so fleeting. He wants you to sob and wail over him, to bury yourself in grief. 

If the last thing he could ever do was to curse you with his own feelings, he’d do it. He’d do it a hundred times over, to know that at least you cared for him, that your feelings for him weren’t just temporary, but that they were forever, that they were permanent. 

Tomura hopes that you’d never want to move, that you’d have the same curse that you gave him. He hopes that when you think of him, it becomes harder to breathe and harder to want anything else but him.

#bnha imagines #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #dabi headcanons #dabi imagine #i was told that i act like my father #and then i was told that i am like my mother #i am made up of their flaws and ugliness #and everything bad #anyways #i started playing these dating sims #one introduced by a friend #oh geez i hope i can call them a friend #if not then like ignore this #and other that i found on my own #and im in love #they were both so cute #also!! #a few people wanted a part 2 to the tomura fic with special guest star aizawa and like im working on it!! #hopefully!! #i have a thought but if i look at it for too long it gets scared and vanishes

[bahoreal]

obsessed with this

#like. not to make everything about good omens but #crowley #there are so many versions of this with him gazing at aziraphale its so fkabdkahdbw #i did a real bad job at positioning these fjsbdhs i also know the last one is 'no one knows what..' but. whatever #.jtxt

[itsbasil]

this literally never stops being funny like dog they made starship troopers with the Baby's First Satire cranked up to 11 and these people are still fucking dumbfounded that the creators don't share their politics

#idk if anyone who follows me plays helldivers 2 but trust me #when it comes to “political commentary in video games” #helldivers 2 does everything short of putting “YOU ARE FIGHTING FOR THE BAD GUYS” in every loading sequence #helldivers #helldivers 2

[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

#yes i want things to be free like ??? that is not a weird desire #'but but it costs money to keep up' ok and? how is that my problem #the government has plenty of murder dollars they could reallocate a few to make internet services universal if they wanted #also these companies were perfectly capable of supporting themselves before the internet got drowned with ads so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #edit: muting notifs on this post bc new additions have kind of petered out #so no one feel bad about adding something someone else has said‚ it is not bothering me im just trying to keep my #notifs page cleanish lol #also since i saw some people are being redirected to read my tags: firstly hiiiiii this is a special secret message for you:3 #secondly i have learned since making this that the reason they were able to support themselves previously was because #of investors bankrolling everything #and theyre now finally realizing that theyre never going to actually make a profit and arent as willing to invest #however thats just a minor correction and doesnt change my overall point #once again. so many murder dollars #so thats why im just adding it here in the tags rather than making an actual correction #anyways . love yall 💕 #origibberish #bigger gibbers

[hunter-rodrigez]

Accessibility tip:

If you want to automate your home a bit, but you don't want any "smart" tech, you can just buy remote controlled power sockets instead

They are a lot cheaper and easier to set up and use than some home automation smart tech nonsense

They don't need an app (but some models come with optional apps and there are apps that are compatible with most of these)

Many of them use the 433mhz frequency to communicate, which makes most models compatible with each other, even if they are from different manufacturers

The tech has been around for a long time and will be around for a long time to come

You don't have to put any fucking corporate listening devices like an amazon echo in your home

Models for outdoors exist as well

#accessibility #automation #tech #a set like the one pictured above usually costs around $20-$30 #I got like 7 of these bad boys and 3 remotes #I can control basically everything in my room with these remotes #I got one remote on my office chair one on my nightstand and one by my door #this always makes me feel a bit like I am in Arnold's room from Hey Arnold!

[emberglowfox]

birds of a feather

#totk #loz #link #tulin #totk spoilers #my comics #my art #it is almost 8 in the goddamn morning and my hand is cramping SO bad but if i didnt make this i was going to die #anyways link's signs: page 2 panel 1 he's signing “danger” and page 2 panel 4 he's signing “important/significant” #also idr where i got the “hair braiding is significant to the rito” probably from the reva/ink i used to read back in the day #(censored so it doesnt show up in the tags just in case lol) #theyre everything to me. if you couldn't tell #they have a brother dynamic 2 me but its open to interpretation #idk wtf happened tonight. two long comics from me back to back is absurd #broke this one up also so its more viewable too #sparks art

[violetsandshrikes]

Once the birds had learned how to initiate video interactions, the second phase of the experiment could begin. In this “open call” period, the 15 participating birds could make calls freely; they also got to choose which bird to dial up. Over the next two months, pet parrots made 147 deliberate video calls to other birds. Their owners took detailed notes about the calls and recorded more than 1,000 hours of video footage that the researchers analyzed.

#i want a call from a parrot so bad I would drop everything #katie rambles #zoology #parrots

[ispyspookymansion]

#what if everything is bad forever…….much to think about #kora.txt

[keets-writing-corner]

Thinking a LOT about Lucifer in the latest Hazbin episode. Idk what I was expecting but not this??

As I was watching my immediate thought was just "huh... Lucifer is kinda of weird..." but as the episode went on I realized the issue

the dude is off the chain depressed, like he says it as a joke but holy cow it is SO BAD

He's manically just creating rubber ducks cuz his daughter really like it that one time but it's empty, it's never good enough but he keeps doing it, maybe cuz he doesn't know how to pass the time otherwise.

like I get the feeling he HAS better things he SHOULD be doing than making rubber duck after rubber duck. At first I was like, "Bruh why isn't the king of hell doing anything?" aaaaand then it became clear...

The dude is disassociating so bad he can barely hold a conversation let alone remember information. He clearly WANTS to, he wants to be involved with his daughter so bad, he wants to care about the things she's doing so bad, but his depression keeps interfering. It's like he can only hear every other word and he grasps onto the ones he does hear semi-out of context. Like you can see every time he catches something that he hadn't before and he just "well shit I didn't catch that part"

and that's why he reacts so weird when people talk to him. He is struggling so bad to engage with the conversation he's only getting 50% of it

does that look like the face of a man who knows what the hell the conversation is even about??? he is STRUGGLING

like Charlie spent so long telling him about the hotel, and he STILL didn't understand what she wanted. Yeah it comes off as ditzy but literally I've been in that position where your brain just "nope, not doing this right now" and nerfs your conversation comprehension. So as someone who's BEEN in that position, to me it feels exactly like what he's dealing with. He's sorta engaged with the conversation, but only as much as his brain will allow

For example, when I'm dealing with this, this is what someone talking to me feels like this where the crossed out parts are what I missed and bold is what I catch, "Hey! You know I was thinking for dinner we could either make some chicken with rice? But if you don't feel like cooking, pasta is super easy and you love that right? What do you want to do?" you can kinda get that someone is trying to talk to you about dinner, and towards the end you get the impression that they asked something that needs your input so you can decently put 2 and 2 together and try and pass off, but crucial bits were left out, I would have no idea that either chicken or pasta is in the conversation only having heard "rice". When someone is just talking at me, I can decently pass off as being engaged but the second I'm required to participate in the conversation I'm screwed. Seem familiar? At which point I have 2 options, try to give a bullshit answer, or admit that I missed what they were saying and ask them to repeat

Lucifer, unfortunately, is trying so damn hard to hide that he's dealing with like 24/7 dissociation, so he can't admit that he's missing entire chunks of the conversation, hence his really weird replies. He does eventually get the full picture and then he and Charlie start having the real conversation

Also, the Alastor/Lucifer rivalry was hilarious but also really indicative of more of what Lucifer is dealing with

Alastor is, unfortunately, really good at picking up people's insecurities, and thanks to Charlie's description earlier and watching Lucifer clearly trying to overcompensate, he immediately picks up on the fact that Lucifer KNOWS he struggles to be a good dad (we know cuz it's cuz of the depression, hard to be engaged when your brain keeps turning off) and decides to rub salt in the wound by pretending he's been acting as a surrogate father to Charlie. Now why Alastor decided to pick a fight with the king of hell is beyond me, I do not understand Alastor (and I LIKE IT) (maybe it's cuz Alastor thinks he's hot shit and was expecting Lucifer to at least have heard of him but Lucifer just treats him like a nobody? who knows)(why would Lucifer listen to radio anyways when he can't even pay attention to a conversation it'd just be white noise)

But yeah I just was expecting someone who oozed either charisma or presence and instead I got a depressed dad who's dissociating so bad he can barely function and be present in his life. The only thing it seems he CAN do is make rubber ducks cuz his daughter really liked it that one time

Idk Lucifer is tragic to me. Whatever the full details of what heavan did to him absolutely broke him and he can't deal with it. He's aware of it, and he doesn't know how to fix it, so he tries to over compensate and sorta makes an ass out of himself but no one says or does anything cuz this guy is supposed to be THE king of hell

Suddenly it's making a lot more sense why he just rolls over and lets heaven do what it wants and even told Charlie to go in his place the start of the show. He's not in any headspace to hold a basic conversation let alone negotiate! He didn't even know who Alastor was, he's been so out of touch

idk I like him, he seems sweet, I hope Charlie brings some light back into his life. He really needs to get out of that rubber duck room

#hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #analysis #dissociation #look idk what to tell you all #I watched the episode and everything makes so much more sense #when you realize he's only intaking like 50-60% of the conversations #he's not bad at listening his brain is literally preventing him from getting everything #literally I've been there #the difference between him and me tho #is that he can't show it #he's the king of hell #he has to bluff his way through conversations #but yeah literally rewatch the episode with this in mind #and watch him reply to the things he DID catch #anyways #NEW BLORBO???? #who'd've thought I would go into Hazbin Hotel #and come out with freaking LUCIFER as my favorite character #I love him #he's so sad

[miraluking-respectfully]

MEAN TO HIM!!!

#they're called pumpkin toadlets and they're bad at everything because they're sososososooo teeny weeny tiny #they're so small that their inner ears don't work and they can't land their jumps properly! they are so little it makes them CLUMSY #and they can't hear each other's mating calls either!!! #WAAAUGGGHGH #animals #edit: i did not mean to post this to my star wars blog but whatever i'm keeping it

[montanabohemian]

if i see a single one of you pissed that your faves canceled an event or a con appearance because they're striking for fair wages then imma come for you in your sleep 🔪🔪🔪

(direct that fury where it belongs: AMPTP and the execs)

#sag aftra #sagaftra #sag aftra strong #sag aftra strike #union strong #wga strike #PAY THE FUCKING ACTORS AND WRITERS #i hope the execs lose EVERYTHING #sag strike #sag-aftra #(BY THE WAY I'VE MADE A MINOR EDIT ON THE ORIGINAL POST) #in case you're confused: BE PISSED OFF. BUT DIRECT IT AT AMPTP AND THE EXECS. #if you don't get to see your fave at an event or a con? IT IS NOT THE UNION'S FAULT. IT IS THE FAULT OF THE EXECS #AMPTP AND THE EXECS ARE REFUSINGS TO NEGOTIATE IN GOOD FAITH AND ARE REFUSING TO PAY ACTORS AND WRITERS FAIRLY #SUPPORT THE WGA AND SAG STRIKE #if that means you can't see them at a con? then take the money you were gonna spend on that con and donate it #to the entertainment community fund #DIRECT YOUR ANGER WHERE IT BELONGS #WHICH IS AT AMPTP AND THE GREEDY PIECE OF SHIT EXECS #another edit: i forgot to add alt text which is my bad. I HAVE CORRECTED THAT.

[ambrosiagourmet]

I think one of the biggest tragedies of Laios & Falin and their relationship is how much his actions impact her life. But like. Specifically how much they WOULDN’T impact her life as much if they weren’t both stuck in such a shitty abusive situation.

This part of the Falin-tries-makeup daydream hour comic is what got me thinking about it again because truly it just... it seems like such a like an offhand comment that I'm sure Laios didn't mean to be cruel or anything. That's just like. A little kid not thinking about what they are saying. ESPECIALLY when the kid in question is Laios.

But man they depended on each other SO much as kids. Too much. It really feels like they didn't have any other source of positive reinforcement, or anyone else to share themselves with. So of course an offhand comment like that has a huge impact on Falin.

Or this little bit from one of the flashbacks:

This tears me apart. Do you think it tears him apart to think about? I think it does. I think Laios holds every small failure to care for Falin against himself.

And then there's the Bigger stuff. The way that him coping with his own trauma ended up impacting her.

Like his interest in monsters. Like him going to find a ghost, and accidentally revealing Falin's magic to the whole village in the process.

Like him needing to leave. And leaving her behind.

He shaped her life so much, and he carries so much guilt for it. And again, there should have been other people there to help. The same things that made Laios need to leave home are the things that made his leaving so hard on Falin. She ate alone after that. She shouldn't have had to eat alone just because Laios wasn't there.

She was 9 when he left for school, and he was 11.

Nine. And Laios feels like he failed her because he didn't stand by her through this better. As an eleven year old.

Both of these kids deserved so much better from the world.

#dunmeshi analysis #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #falin touden #laios touden #dungeon meshi spoilers #AND this isn't even getting into her leaving the academy & how much it seems like that was directly tied to how poorly he was doing #there's a comic in the adventurer's bible where marcille is like 'yeah she had a job lined up and everything' #and like. do you think he feels bad for that too #like he wrecked her life by leaving #and wrecked her life by showing up #what do you even do at that point. if you feel like a failed protector when you are away & and a burden when you return #unable to make yourself accept. unable to make yourself resist #Laios strongest moment is when he lets himself accept that. the contradiction of his life & his relationship with Falin #that he has to kill her to save her #as a small note this came out a little more focused on Laios' POV with this stuff but Falin's experience of it is v important to me too #didn't mean to sideline her but her feelings about stuff are more speculative and probably need a post of their own

[thriftdyke]

it really does bother me how no one can seem to answer the question “what even is romantic attraction, really.” like some people are like “it’s who you wanna kiss and cuddle <3” and I’m like ok well kisses and cuddles can be either sexual or platonic depending on context. “It’s who you feel passion/desire/arousal for” well that just sounds like sexual attraction which you can have without even knowing somebody so I fail to see how that’s romantic. “It’s who you want to go on dates with” I go on dates with friends all the time plus “date” is a social construct anyway there’s really no innate difference between a date and hanging out. “it’s who you have deep feelings for” great news for you that can be literally any type of relationship. my friend told me she defined it as “who you wanna give roses to” and I’m like do u hear urself??? like the more I talk to people the more I’m convinced romance and romantic attraction is an elaborate socially fabricated illusion that has no real defining characteristics. and like there’s nothing Wrong with it being a constuct but why people are so attached to defending the supremacy of it is something I cannot for the life of me figure out

#like reading this u might be like ‘sounds like ur just aromantic sis’ but I’m like. listen. #ur missing my point. which is that I literally think romance Does Not Exist #at least not in this bioessentialist way people like to pretend it does #the desire for companionship and the desire for sex are biological drives. everything else is a social construct #which doesn’t mean its bad! or not valid! or anything like that! #but I’m just genuinely do not understand Why we are so bent on treating it like gospel

[eso-terrors]

my official apology for that sad hunter art, his siblings love him ok

#the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #star wars #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb echo #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #they are everything to me #i love them your honor

[mawguai]

I want to go back and talk to you

#pokemon kieran #furret #kieran #rival kieran #pokemon #pokemon dlc #pokemon sv #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon scarvi #scarlet and violet #pokemon scarlet violet #pokemon indigo disk #pokemon teal mask #the bg got hands oml... #i won't tag the bg pokemon but have fun looking at them! #i wanted this to be at the kitakami bus stop #silly thing but i found a shiny spinarak there while i was waiting for it to turn day so i could get reference photos #i think it's funny how im so used to kierans new hairstyle now #i def thought it was bad at first but i kindaaa like it now #now that everything is said and done im really happy with how they did him #seeing him in the epilogue made me so happy that he was well #my art

[pirateknight]

if there's one thing about Lou Wilson it's that he goes above and beyond when given the option to sabotage himself and his party

#escalation from pinocchio purposefully walking into a trap to him lying about getting possessed and burning everything fabian has on adaine #'fabian loses control of a bodily function' [picks the worst one] #also i think gunnie chefs tools casino bit could be an example #looking at the stepmother #he just keeps it interesting #dimension 20 #fantasy high #fhjy spoilers #OH AND how could i forget the bad awful no good day in leviathan