#but I needed to scream about this

[thewelloflonging]

I need to put him in a jar

[suiheisen]

assigned omega by auntie yi yi…….

[galactic-basic]

benophie girlies (gn) we won

[blackkatdraws2]

[Toon x Mobster] A tender moment.

[Animation timelapse here!]

[AUDIO USED:] Chet Baker - Almost Blue Sound Effects edited by me!

[dimeadozencows]

I redrew rambs sprites is there a power strip emoji

🔌 does this count

The descriptions I gave each expression are what they're called in the files :]

Like and subscribe if you'd shed a tear for a bloke who does fuck all

[lazylittledragon]

y'know every time i feel guilty about bothering someone by singing along when i'm listening to music, i just remember that i have to tolerate my dirtbag brother screaming at his ps5 for hours every day so listening to muffled off-key fall out boy is probably preferable

[morganbritton132]

AU where Eddie cracks his head off the ground and temporarily gets mind reading powers. He goes to school the next day thinking that this might actually be fun, and it is for a while.

And then he hears bloodcurdling screaming - except only he hears it so, “That’s in someone’s head?”

He follows the sound out down the hall, pass his own classroom. The screaming getting louder and louder until, “Steve Harrington?”

“Yeah?” Steve blinks back into reality in the back of his history class. The screaming dims but doesn’t go away. Steve’s still got those bruises on his face but otherwise doesn’t look distressed, “…You want something, Munson?”

“Um…um, no,” He says. “I - no. Nothing.”

Steve narrows his eyes and a whisper of a voice just under the screaming thinks Eddie is fucking with him.

Eddie barely acknowledges it because he’s stuck on how Steve looks normal. Not anguished. Not tortured. But normal. Bored.

“Well, uh. Well, I’ll see you around, Harrington.”

And Eddie means that too.

[remcadll]

Thinking about outsiders 2003 #44-46 again. And just outsiders 2003 in general. Also this post happy pride month

Specifically had this panel in mind, look at them hanging out and displaying terrible trigger discipline <3 Jason is a reliable source :)

[plutonicbees]

"it's really me. is it really really really you?"

some yj19 konbart for @superfamilyweek day 2: across space or time/friends & teammates (kind of ended up fulfilling both??)

[gbee333]

WHAT DO YOU MEAN SPAMTON HAD A WEDDING RING ENGRAVED WITH HIS NAME.

AND WHAT DO YOU FUCKINGMEAN THAT IT HAS A LINK TALKING ABOUT HOW BITTER OL SPAMMY BOY IS TO TENNA

AND WHAT

the LITTERAL

FUCK DO YOU MEAN

THAT IN THE WIKI WHEN TALKING ABOUT THE FUCKING WEDDING RING, THERES A LINK, ATTACHED TO SAID RING, THAT DIRECTLY SAYS

“DAMN YOU TENNA.”

WHAT

THE FUCK

DO YOU ACTUALLY

MEAN.

I’m actually so sick over these two I’m going insane

WHY DIDNTANYBODY TELL ME THIS SHIT WAS CANNON

OLD MEN YAOI IS CANNON.

(Edit: Sobbing why is this my most liked post..)

[thecultstuff]

Gravity Falls when i was 11: i wonder if Stan really does have a twin brother

Gravity Falls when i’m 19: what do you mean Stan’s twin brother fucked the triangle

[deviouz]

whatever you do, don’t think about how matt murdock’s holy silver cross necklace dangles in front of your face while he fucks you oh-so-deviously.

don’t think about how matt murdock's breath against your neck was like that of a silent confession, each exhale a sinful prayer that made you tremble from the need of it all.

don’t think about how matt murdock will have you moaning out a variety of expletives and the occasional ‘oh god, matt’ when he angles those dexterous hips just right.

don’t think about how matt murdock smirks at you with such sinful lips, or how they had been buried between the plush of your thighs only moments before.

don't think about how matt murdock's voice, intoxicating and rough, pulled you in like a prayer you didn’t want to answer. every word he uttered was like a unholy promise that set your heart racing with an urgency that was impossible control.

don’t think about the way matt murdock uttered praise down at your blissed out form was practically unhallowed — “come on, angel, you can get louder than that.”

don’t think about how matt murdock’s very touch was downright unholy. your skin beneath his tempting hands burned with nothing but pure need and desire, and it was practically etched into just features just how well he knew.

don’t think about how matt murdock’s pace was a rough, steady assault, each movement building a tension too intense to bear. it was almost if he was testing your limits, drawing you closer to the edge with every deliberate and divine thrust.

and absolutely don’t think about the way matt murdock has your back arching, eyes rolling back as pure euphoria washes over your angelic form. that silver cross of his dangled before you, taunting, served as an all too familiar reminder of how every intimate encounter with matt murdock was sure to be sacrilegious.

[demigod-of-the-agni]

“...my soul glowed with love and humanity; but am I not alone, miserably alone?”

[z-1-wolfe]

happy pride :3 i offer religious trauma

[inkskinned]

i'm still trying to piece together the truth of it. when you left, you said: feel free to spin this narrative however you want. i have no idea if you were being cruel or if you just genuinely don't remember what you've done to me.

it's hard because i'd done so much of the work for you. i had seen the parts that flaked off, the rust underneath. i started separating you into two people - the one i loved, and the one who hurt me. i had this fantasy version of you - my partner - and then i had this stranger, a third person who would show up randomly to shatter me. i am deliriously glad i'm no longer with "the stranger". i miss the gentle (unreal?) "other" you terribly.

at first, i was so strict about my boundaries. i remember telling you to get the fuck out of my house if you were going to talk to me like that. by the end: i would justify your behavior for you, accepting even your mistreatment as "my fault" in the grand scheme. i look back on the person i was before you - smart, independent, confident - and i feel a strange sense of detachment. i don't even recognize me.

even in one of our last conversations, you said: if you want a partner that always talks warmly to you, find someone else. there was a time that a comment like that would have made me leave. and instead, somehow, i just placidly accepted that kind of thing. you were literally telling me that i wasn't allowed to have a reaction to your cruelty - and i just took it, because you'd so fully turned things around on me.

when people are faced with irrationality, a rational brain tries to make sense of it. this is the trap. they're lovely in the morning, gentle and blue-eyed and sweet. like nothing even happened, they breeze around the house and kiss you on the mouth. but at night; who is that? they snap almost randomly; flying into an impotent rage about just-about-anything. it just doesn't make sense. so the problem must be me, and my brain, and how i think.

the traumatized brain just wants peace. so maybe i'm misremembering. maybe you were just having a bad day. maybe it's actually me.

you eventually would fully turn on me and start implying that i am the bad actor in our relationship. that's what happens, right? that's literally in the playbook. you went to therapy for all of a month, told her a half-truth, co-opted therapyspeak. you figured out how to reframe your actions as "seeking peace." any time i stood my ground, i was "gaslighting." when i asked you to be more gentle, you said i was "tone policing." you said, randomly, i had emotionally manipulated you - i still have no idea what that's even specifically referring to. maybe my consistent requests for calmness and empathy?

and while i literally know better, and i'm sitting here, trained by you, thinking: wait, fuck. was i actually the person you made me out to be?

and the thing that scares me is that i literally do not know if you ever actually saw what you were doing to me. when you'd tell me how you remember arguments, you'd always summarize them in a way where you come off as gentle and easy: "i was trying to set an important boundary." what had actually happened was 15 minutes of you shouting at me i know you did something shady, just admit it already. eventually you'd say my reaction to your shouting (when i finally reacted, which usually happened around hour three) was inevitably "disappointing" and "another way i'm silencing your feelings."

how many times did i ask you - beg you - to just take accountability? looking back, i don't think i ever heard you say: you're right. the way i talked to you was wrong of me.

i am trying to tie together the two people into a full version of you in my head. yes, you made my coffee and made me laugh and spent hours on the phone with me. and yes - you would scream at me until i had to run away and hide behind something.

i wish i did have a narrative i could pull out and shape to my whim. i wish i did have some semblance of reality. instead i just stand here, strange and vibrating, wondering: what the fuck just happened?

[tls12lessthan3]

there is nothing sexier than a character who is at all times deeply ashamed of their desires. those desires can be banal or they can be (said affectionately) pure freak shit. it doesnt matter if theyre actually monstrous because by virtue of the fear and the shame and disgust the character feels they easily become so. and someone who is always a little shaky and sweaty and ashamed is broadcasting those monstrous desires to everyone. they are worrying and poking at the wound and this causes the blood (the shame) (the want) to flow and themselves to be painted in it. its almost kinkier than just going out in a dog collar and leash or something because youre not just wearing your desire, youre publicly flagellating yourself for it. and even if that flagellation doesnt involve a direct punishment and rather a deprivation - even if the character's shame manifests as simply ignoring their desires at all costs, a life built around avoiding something is still ultimately a life built around that thing. and so you have these characters whos shame becomes so central to themselves that to look at them is to observe their deepest most monstrous desires. and that kind of exhibitionism......its kinda hot!