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guys im legitimately so obsessed with yellowjackets i cannot handle it i love the plot, the characters, the dynamics, EVERYTHING i am going to go insane if i dont have someone to talk to this about
thoughts, thirsts, & blurbs are open for literally anyone from 1996 timeline and present timeline i love them all either way
my 2,000 follower event is still open
and my 25 days of winter event is as well
i also got a nat oneshot in the works currently 🙈
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Was looking at refs and since Viktor has two different leg braces I was wondering, do we think he wears them simultaneously?? The refs don't perfectly line up perspective-wise so it's hard to tell but parts of the one he wears during the Hexcore scenes look like they could maybe line up with the brace that he wears over his clothes, but also some parts really don't and look like they'd be super uncomfy. Also HOW does he take these on and off. Experts weigh in
#viktor#arcane#ig my assumption would be that he wears both simultaneously cause in the scene where he injects the shimmer#it seems implied that he just threw off his clothes and kept experimenting#so one might assume he was already wearing the smaller one underneath#tho it is a funny image to think of him just being like 'one sec i gotta go all the way home and grab my other brace to do this'#he can take off the back brace too cause hes not wearing it in the scene where he's in the hospital bed and you can see his shoulder#where the strap would be#but that one seems to make even less sense functionality wise#everything looks like its screwed together#or screwed INTO him#but only the top bolts on his spine are i think#in the close ups of his back brace model it looks like theres cushioning underneath the parts of it that cover the rest of his spine#so he can take it off. but HOW#what parts of it unscrew/detatch to pull open and off#does it not do that at all and he just has to shimmy it off his shoulder and all the way down his legs to get it off like a romper#the shape language of the designs are cool but like. tell me how it wooorrkkksss#forgive me if im just dumb and dont know at all how braces work and theres a very simple practical explanation for all this#any king who wants to infodump about mobility aids at me....the floor is yours#something to be said i suppose about the fact that zaunites have crazy prosthetics with wild augmentations that work flawlessly#and piltover's like. idk heres some fucking uncomfortable ass metal. salo gets wheelchair in non ada compliant place#they havent ever needed to adapt to accommodate disabilities etc etc#or maybe artists were just like 'heres a design' and everybody clapped and didnt give it a second thought#and then they just turned off the visibility on the mesh when they didnt need it knowing thered not be a scene where its taken off#dont even wanna THINK about what that rig would look like#like 40 different controllers#soft body and rigid hard surfaces needing to move together....#a cold chill just shot up my spine#<- guy who is only an animator and doesnt know how to rig#forgive the magic wand tool with zero cleanup. i am lazy
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I started Disco Elysium barely knowing anything about the game, I assumed when people called Harry Du Bois a wet pathetic freak they were exaggerating. You know, the blorbofication of a middle aged man.
But no. I'm only 4 hours in and I had to make him take off his pants to clear some areas in this game? For a second I was genuinely afraid it'd be possible to get a Game Over screen bc I thought I was killing him by making him stand up too fast. The guy is almost completely incoherent. He vomited twice. Tbh it might be possible to make him meet the criteria for almost every disorder in the DSM-5, if the player so wishes
#where is his other shoe 😭😭#i had no idea going in i thought it was like... a serious dark kafkaesque text-only visual novel#though. i guess. the opening scene of DE and kafka's metamorphosis do have parallels#harry du bois#disco elysium#video games#mine
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don't think I'm not still obsessing over 7-12
#art#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 part 12 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 part 12 spoilers#sorry it's even scribblier than usual :') hopefully my chickenscratch is legible#anyway come here and join me in the corner where we go to be embarrassing about anime characters#just. between riddle and trey's dreams i've been thinking a lot about how#trey knew this kid for like two months when he was nine and then never really got over him or how their friendship ended#which. honestly. understandable given the circumstances#and then when they finally met again riddle acted like they'd never met before and neither he nor trey ever intended trey to be his vice#but every time riddle talks about his childhood post-incident it's basically#'oh yeah i constantly thought about trey and che'nya and fantasized about still being friends with them! this is fine and normal'#(there's a bit in one of his birthday cards where he talks about crossword puzzles and shit man that one got me)#idk. i can't put this into words very well#just...the implications that riddle was actively resisting trey's friendship#(presumably because it ended SUPER badly last time and he's learned that if he shows he wants something it gets taken away from him)#and trey had to work REALLY hard to just to get to the point they were at by the time canon starts#that was progress somehow#y'all can call him boring all you want but trey's defining feature really is that he keeps being like#'everything's fine :) this isn't a big deal :) i don't care that much'#(trey on the inside: THIS IS THE BIGGEST DEAL THAT I CARE SO MUCH ABOUT AND I WILL NEVER LET IT GO)#anyway i continue to be absolutely murdered by the timing of riddlepunzel directly after this#riddle's line about not wanting to keep standing in front of a door that's never going to open...#hey. hey silly gacha game about anime disney boys.#you are not actually allowed to do this to me#oh shit oh damn i'm out of tags and i haven't even talked about cater yet. NO BUT I HAVE LOTS OF FEELINGS THERE TOO --#(i am crushed under a falling safe looney tunes style)
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not only has tom scott made the thumbnail of his comeback video count down the days until it gets deleted, he also made himself slowly slide off the screen each day lmao

#a very good bit i will say#opened youtube this morning and was like “huh i dont remember that weird thumbnail”#tom scott#many thoughts to be thunk#(also so incredibly excited about this. lowk made my week.)
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Touch of madness

Synopsis☞ Working as a doctor for an asylum was interesting, you had different patients, but one catches your eyes..Yang jungwon a very special patient..
Contains☞ Slow burn, kissing, make out, healing, angst, fluff, unprotected sex, swearing, mentions of killing (a little bit).
W.C☞ 12k..?
Nef notes☞ New jungwon fic based on the CONCEPT PHOTOS, HOLY SHIT, THEY WHERE SO GEWDDD TOO GEEWED! anyways here's some serial killer jungwon, when I saw him hold the chainsaw I had to!..love y'all, reblogs, likes and comments are good for me! feel free to comment!Hope you guys enjoy it ( ◜‿◝ )��
The heavy steel door groaned as it closed behind you, a familiar finality echoing off the cold tile walls. The fluorescent lights above buzzed, flickering slightly, casting sterile white over the hallway. The South Wing of the Seoul Psychiatric Detention Center wasn’t a place many dared to linger. Especially not near Room 313.
You weren’t supposed to be here past shift change. But rules had blurred long ago, the first time you made eye contact with Jungwon through that reinforced glass.
He had been transferred under high-security conditions, a 19-year-old with a rap sheet that read like a horror script—four confirmed murders, two suspected, and a trail of evidence so compelling the prosecution hadn’t even bothered with a plea deal. But he was too young for full incarceration. The court ordered psychiatric evaluation instead. Which meant, for now, he belonged in your world.
The first time you'd seen him, he was barefoot, cuffs around his ankles and wrists, still smiling like he'd just walked out of a nightclub. A smile that felt... wrong in all the right ways. Not deranged. Not hollow. But calculated. Charming. Disarming.
You remember looking into his eyes and realizing something terrifying: He knew what you were thinking before you did.
“You’re back early,” his voice drawled through the bars as you stepped into his observation cell.
“I’m late, actually,” you corrected, clutching the clipboard tighter than necessary.
“Late,” he repeated, then slowly sat up from the cot, the faintest sound of chains shifting. “To see me. You know how that makes me feel?”
Your throat dried slightly. You were trained for this. You had degrees, certifications, and months of supervised fieldwork. And still, Jungwon made you feel like the one under observation.
“I’m not here for you,” you said, eyes flicking to the notes in your folder. “Routine wellness check.”
He tilted his head, a slow smirk pulling at his lips.
“You say that every time, Y/N.”
He said your name like a secret he enjoyed unwrapping. Like he had every intention of breaking the rules just to whisper it again.
You didn’t flinch. You’d learned by now that flinching was like blood in the water. But you didn’t have to say anything either, because he leaned forward, elbows on knees, voice dropping.
“Why don’t you tell me the truth, angel?” he purred. “You like watching me. I can feel it when your eyes linger.”
“I watch all the patients.”
“But I’m your favorite.”
You opened your mouth—to deny, to scold, you weren’t sure—but his gaze locked onto yours, and your breath caught.
“I see the way you hesitate outside the glass,” he said softly. “Like you’re trying to convince yourself not to come in.”
He wasn’t wrong. And that’s what made you furious.
Jungwon didn’t just enjoy mind games. He thrived on them. He read body language like poetry. He saw lies like they were highlighted in red.
And lately… he’d turned his attention entirely on you.
You told yourself it was part of the job—understanding him, empathizing just enough to build rapport. You told yourself you weren’t addicted to the electric pull between you, the way his words made your skin feel too tight. You told yourself he didn’t matter.
But that didn’t explain why you started staying past hours.
Didn’t explain why you read his files late into the night, fingers tracing over crime scene photos not in horror—but fascination.
Didn’t explain why, when he smiled, you sometimes smiled back.
“You’re not like them,” he said one night, voice low and silken as rain tapped the windows behind him.
“Like who?”
“The ones who try to fix me. You’re just trying to understand.”
“That’s my job.”
“No, Y/N,” he said, dragging out every syllable. “Your job is to document. But you? You want to know.”
Your silence gave you away.
“And the more you know,” he added, “the more you’ll crave.”
You swallowed. “And what is it I’m supposed to be craving, Jungwon?”
He stood, the chains dragging faintly. There was only a short distance between you now, four thick bars and a lifetime of poor decisions.
“Me,” he whispered.
You tried to pull away. You tried reassignment, switching shifts, working longer with less sleep. It didn’t matter. Jungwon’s voice echoed even in your dreams.
And he noticed.
“You’re not sleeping,” he said one day as you delivered meds to his cell. “Eyes puffy. Little tremble in your hand.”
“I’m fine.”
“You miss me.”
You laughed bitterly. “You’re psychotic.”
He leaned closer. “You keep saying that like it’s a turn-off.”
You hated him. You hated how he saw through everything. And you hated yourself for letting him.
But somewhere between your duty and his obsession, you started wanting the monster.
It came to a head during a lockdown.
A riot broke out in the North Wing. The facility went red-zone, sirens blaring. You were doing rounds, and when the security doors slammed, you were locked in with Jungwon.
The overhead buzzed: “Remain in place. Doors will reopen once clearance is verified.”
You stared at the cell. His door hadn’t locked. Malfunctioning latch. Classic.
And he was watching you. Uncuffed. Smiling. Beautiful and terrifying and real.
“You’re afraid,” he murmured, stepping out of the shadow.
“Don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can scream.”
He took a step closer. “And they won’t come.”
Your back hit the wall.
He stopped in front of you, eyes unreadable now. The game dropped. Something deeper took its place.
“I could hurt you,” he said softly.
“I know.”
“I don’t want to.”
You exhaled shakily. “Then don’t.”
His fingers brushed your wrist.
“Say it,” he whispered. “Say you want this too.”
You didn’t answer.
But you didn’t pull away either.
The kiss was a chemical explosion.
Your hand tangled in the back of his shirt. His lips crashed into yours with fury and restraint, like he wanted to consume you and worship you all at once. You felt teeth, breath the heat he tasted like everything you weren’t supposed to have.
And you let him.
Because the worst part of all this wasn’t that he was a killer.
It was that he made you feel more alive than anyone ever had.
After that, there was no going back.
Late-night visits turned into touches beneath the table. A stolen moment when security cameras glitched. Fingertips brushing across your waist when no one was looking.
You kept his secrets. He kept your sanity.
But the guilt grew.
The lines blurred.
The closer you got to him, the more he opened up. About the pain. The voices. The fear of abandonment that grew claws. He wasn’t proud of what he’d done—but he didn’t regret it either.
“They deserved it,” he told you once. “They hurt people. And no one stopped them.”
“And you think that makes you better?”
He looked at you with those molten eyes.
“No,” he said. “It makes me honest.”
The night you lost control entirely, it was raining.
You’d received notice that Jungwon was being transferred. Maximum security prison. No more therapy. No more contact.
You broke protocol.
You snuck in, unlocked the gate, and stepped into his arms like it was the only place left on Earth that made sense.
“You came,” he whispered.
“I had to.”
There were no more words after that.
Only lips. Tongues. Whispers. Skin. Your body pressed to his, heat searing the cold walls. Chains rattling against the rhythm of your sin. You let him take you, and you took him in return. Like sinners. Like lovers. Like two people who knew they’d burn for this but didn’t care.
He made you cry. He made you scream. He made you feel.
And when he held you after, breathless and shaking, you realized the truth:
You didn’t love him despite the madness.
You loved him because of it.
They found you the next morning, asleep in his arms.
You were stripped of your position. The media swarmed. Your name went viral as "The Angel Who Fell for the Devil."
But he never testified against you.
In fact, he whispered only one thing during his final hearing.
“I would kill for her again.”
Six months later, a body was found near a broken fence line.
Security footage was corrupted.
An empty guard uniform was missing.
And the last thing the night watchman heard before the cameras went dead?
A voice, low and cocky, whispering through static:
“Told you she’d come back for me.”
The motel room was too quiet.
Faded floral curtains. Cheap, flickering light. One bed. A single ticking clock on the wall.
Jungwon stood by the window, shirtless, damp towel around his neck, freshly showered. You sat at the edge of the bed, hands gripping the sheets. The silence between you buzzed louder than the asylum alarms ever had.
“Still think I’m the villain?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.
You met his eyes. That same mix of trouble and tenderness. His voice was low, cocky, but not careless.
“No,” you said. “I think you’re something worse.”
He tilted his head. “Oh?”
“Unpredictable.”
Jungwon chuckled. “That’s not always a bad thing, sweetheart.”
He walked toward you, the towel falling from his neck. He wasn’t trying to be seductive. He didn’t need to try. It was in the way he moved confident, controlled, like he could shatter or shelter you at will.
“Why’d you come with me?” he asked.
You didn’t answer right away. Because the truth was messy.
Because part of you wanted to save him. And another part, maybe darker, wanted to belong to the madness too.
“You asked me to,” you whispered.
He knelt in front of you, between your knees. “That all it took?”
You reached for him, fingertips brushing his cheek. “I couldn’t let them take you back.”
“Because you care?”
You nodded.
He leaned in, lips brushing yours, soft, almost reverent. Then he pulled back, gaze suddenly serious.
“You know I’ve killed people,” he said. “Real people. Not just stories on paper.”
“I know.”
“I’m not cured.”
“I know.”
“And I’ll never be what you want me to be.”
You stood and kissed him.
“I never asked you to be.”
The past few weeks where like a fever dream.
They were a tangle of sheets and hands and whispered confessions. Sometimes soft, sometimes desperate. Sometimes violent—not in a way that hurt, but in the way people do when they’re clinging to each other like lifelines.
And then came the nightmares.
Jungwon would wake up gasping, sweating, eyes wild. You’d wrap your arms around him, hold him until he stopped shaking.
“What do you see?” you asked once.
He whispered, “You… leaving.”
You never did.
But peace is temporary when blood’s in your past.
A photo leaked online. Grainy. A gas station security cam. You and Jungwon, buying snacks. It wasn’t a clear shot, but it was enough.
Suddenly, you weren’t ghosts anymore.
You were fugitives.
Jungwon wanted to run. You wanted to plan.
They almost caught you in Denver.
Marked car. Two agents. You had to run through the rain, barefoot, laughing through the panic. You crashed in a stolen car, engine still warm. Jungwon was bleeding from his temple. You stitched him up in the backseat, hands shaking.
“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, eyes glassy.
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I don’t need to.”
Weeks passed.
You became something else. Not quite lovers, not quite fugitives partners in the truest, most terrifying sense.
You learned his patterns.
He learned yours.
He was still dangerous. Still sharp and impulsive and morally gray.
But with you—he tried.
He held your face after kissing you too rough and whispered, “Sorry.”
He stopped running ahead without checking if you could keep up.
He looked at you like you were the last good thing in the world and maybe, for him, you were.
One night, in a cabin deep in the woods of Oregon, you sat by the fire, wrapped in a blanket. Jungwon poured wine into two mismatched mugs.
“You ever think about staying?” he asked.
“Here?”
“Anywhere. Not running. Just… us.”
You stared at the flames. “Every day.”
He sat beside you. “We could fake our deaths.”
You smiled. “You’d love that.”
“I mean it. Burn the car. Leave blood. No more names. Just you. Just me. Forever.”
You looked at him. “Forever’s a long time.”
“I’ve done longer.”
He kissed you—slow this time, hands framing your face. There was no lust behind it. Just… devotion. A promise.
And when he whispered, “I love you,” it wasn’t a trick.
It was the truest thing he’d ever said.
But you knew better than to believe in happy endings.
The fire snapped in the hearth, casting golden light across Jungwon’s bare collarbones. He was lounging beside you on the floor, wine-stained lips curved into a smirk as he watched the flames flicker, though it was clear his attention hadn’t left you for even a second.
“You keep staring,” you said, swirling the last of your wine.
He leaned closer, his voice velvet and smoke. “Because you look like sin in candlelight.”
Your breath hitched as he took the mug from your hand, setting it aside. His fingers brushed yours featherlight, teasing, possessive.
“And I’ve been starving,” he murmured.
You parted your lips, about to speak, but he was already crawling toward you...slow, deliberate. The blanket slipped off your shoulders, and the cold kissed your skin for just a moment before Jungwon's body pressed against yours, warm and familiar and infinitely dangerous.
“You sure?” he asked against your jaw, voice low, teasing, but still asking.
You nodded, barely breathing. “Always.”
That was all he needed.
His mouth crashed into yours, urgent and claiming. He kissed like he wanted to ruin you and worship you in the same breath. His hands slid under your shirt, greedy, tugging until the fabric peeled away and your bare skin met the chill of the room and the heat of his mouth.
He kissed down your neck, softly at first, then with teeth, marking. One hand gripped your waist while the other slid between your thighs, already knowing exactly how to undo you.
“You’re soaked,” he groaned, two fingers pressing lightly against your panties. “All that for me?”
“All for you,” you gasped, hips rocking forward.
He tore the fabric down your legs, lips ghosting over every inch of skin he revealed, until you were sprawled on the soft fur rug...open, panting, waiting.
And then he knelt between your legs, tongue darting out to taste you, slow and devastating. You gasped, back arching, hands clawing at the rug as he licked deeper, then flicked over your clit with maddening rhythm.
“Jungwon—please—” you moaned.
He chuckled against you, the vibration sending shivers up your spine. “God, you sound so good like this. Could record you right now and use it as my new favorite lullaby.”
His fingers replaced his mouth, two sliding in effortlessly as his tongue stayed on your clit, moving in sync. Your body bucked, firelight catching the sweat on your chest, and you came hard, crying out as the heat consumed you from inside out.
But he wasn’t done.
Not even close.
Jungwon rose, undressing slowly, like he wanted you to watch, to ache. He was lean muscle and sharp edges, all scars and quiet power, and the moment he lined himself up against your entrance, he looked you dead in the eye.
“This…” he said, pushing in, slow and deep, “is mine now.”
You gasped, hands flying to his shoulders, nails sinking in as he filled you completely.
“Yours,” you breathed. “Only yours.”
He started to move, hips rolling, each thrust rougher, deeper, hotter than the last. You wrapped your legs around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust, moaning his name like a prayer.
The fire roared behind him, casting shadows over his face. His expression was dark, hungry, worshipful, like he couldn't decide whether to break you or beg for your soul.
“Say it again,” he growled. “Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” you cried out. “I’m yours, Jungwon”
He kissed you again, silencing the scream as he drove into you harder, faster, until you were unraveling beneath him, again, trembling and moaning as your second orgasm ripped through you like wildfire.
His pace stuttered.
“Fuck,” he groaned, voice strangled. “I’m gonna...Y/N—”
“Do it,” you whispered, pulling him in. “Come inside. Fill me.”
And when he did, when he came with a ragged moan, clutching you to his chest like he was afraid you’d vanish, you felt more alive than you ever had.
Like you belonged there. In his arms. In the dark. In the madness.
After, he didn’t speak.
He just held you, bodies tangled on the rug, the firelight fading into embers.
You were sore. Marked. Loved.
And when he whispered, “I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you from me,”
you believed him.
Because you’d do the same.
Tags☞ None!
#inbox open#imagine#kpop#enhypen imagines#enhypen#kpop x reader#jungwon#jungwon fluff#jungwon hard hours#jungwon x reader#jungwon smut#jungwon hard thoughts#enhypen hard thoughts
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I used to think it would take a monster to put someone in a place like that office. Especially if the person was himself. But we're not monsters, Mark. Not real ones.
#severance#severance season 2#fanart#mark scout#mark s#severance fanart#artists on tumblr#y'all have No idea how long I spent messing around with the composition/perspective here OTL#I was going for a sort of wonky unsettling optical illusion type feel#to match the unsettling quirky vibe of the show#turning the sterile lumon hallway into a spiral#with mark pulling against/ falling/ being drawn into it#played around w lots of red v blue v reintegration mixup#and the pose itself is referencing the bit from the s2 opening credits#lots of thoughts about who is trapped and how and who is saving whom#anyway this show has burrowed so deep into my psyche I'm gnawing on it like a dog w a bone#my scribbles
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with school coming back soon, i will be answering requests a little bit slower, unfortunately. that being said, i am open to random thoughts, thirsts, and blurbs that dont take a lot of effort! i will still post requests but they will be posted slower where as random thoughts and such will be posted much quicker. thanks!
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grieving
#sonilver#sonic the hedgehog#silver the hedgehog#sonic#sth#my art#comic#proud of this one!#i thought it would be funny if sonic liked silver's overabundance of chest fur but was never open about it#so silver just trims it one day and is confused why sonic is upset#don't worry sonic it'll grow back
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Shen Yuan revealing his real name to Luo Binghe can be very romantic in fics
But imagine how funny it would be if it's revealed by Shang Qinghua
Shang Qinghua: A-Yuan! How's it hanging?
Luo Binghe: A-Yuan?
Shang Qinghua: Huh? Has your husband never told you his real name?
Shen Qingqiu: No I haven't...
Shang Qinghua: Well shit, sorry for deadnaming you
Shen Qingqiu: What?
Shang Qinghua: Get it? Because that was your name before you died?
Shen Qingqiu: Get the fuck out of my house
Luo Binghe: SHIZUN HAS DIED MORE THAN ONCE?!?!
#the system would've shut down and sqq puts off telling his husband the truth for the longest time#meanwhile captain overshare tells his king everything and thought everything was out in the open#sqh: have you told him i'm god yet?#lbh: WHAT?!#sqq: airplane i hate you so much rn#shen qingqiu#shen yuan#luo binghe#shang qinghua#airplane shooting towards the sky#bingqiu#cumplane#platonic cumplane#mxtx#svsss#scum villain self saving system#rzfzx#ren zha fanpai zijiu xitong
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So the boys are admiring their outfits. They praise Georgina for it, because you wouldn't have known that it's the first time they've met with how perfect the clothes Georgina chose for them are.
But apparently, she already got some tips on their personalities based on Floyd's nicknames lol.
Yuu is a shrimp so Georgina chose pink for them. Grim's a baby seal because of his round tummy, but she put him in an eel-inspired fit this time. Rook's a seagull graceful in the sky but hits hard in a fight.
Malleus: "What sort of name did that person have for me?"
Jade reveals that Malleus is a seaslug. Grim doesn't know what that is and is upset that even Rook knows what a seaslug is. He questions Yuu if they know
Yuu: "It's a creature just like Hornton!"
Malleus: "What? I look like this?"
Jade: "Those horn-like parts are actually antennae. Sea slugs are a type of shellfish."
Malleus: "Shell...? I fail to see where the shell in this creature is, but this outfit does incorporate plenty of shells."
Grim: "Eh~ this squishy, fluttery, weird thing is a sea slug, huh. It looks so carefree, not really like Hornton except for the horns."
No Grim you don't understand. He's actually as easygoing and derpy as that seaslug lmao.
Jade: "Seaslugs are adorable, beautiful creatures that flutter in the ocean."
Jade: "... However, don't be too captivated and touch it. That will be the end for you. They're extremely poisonous."
Grim: "They're poisonous?! Scary little dudes... So they're like Hornton after all."
Jade: "But they're known to be rather docile unless provoked."
Malleus: "So it's fine if you simply do not carelessly touch it. Then, it's not frightening at all."
Malleus: "I've learned quite a bit more about this sea slug creature. These nicknames that people bestow upon others is amusing."
I DID NOT know that that much thought was put into the seaslug nickname wtf? It really is Malleus omg.
#the fact that he wasn't offended that they thought he looked like a squishy little creature lol#i love him so much my open minded king#twst event spoilers#twisted wonderland#malleus draconia#ventique translates#jade leech#twst grim
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DPxDC Prompt #13
Danny was born in Gotham and ended up for adoption shortly after. The woman who birthed him listed the father on his birth certificate as The Batman. Everyone laughed it off as a joke from a woman who didn't know or didn't want admit who the father was. They left it be, but no one really thought it was true. It couldn't be. Right?
#DPxDC Prompt#DPxDC#Thought about going into more detail with the story my head is building here#But ultimately decided to leave it more open for anyone to take and build in any direction they please#That said if anyone wants to hear more about the version I got going on in here#Feel free to ask#I can do a reblog with my thoughts#After I finish work for tonight
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He lookin
#i just thought the idea of martin thinking he was sleeping with his eyes open funny#when he was just being silly and feeling affectionate#jon forces martin to sleep after he tells him about the cows tho#honk shoo mimi he says#uhhhh i dont like how i draw Jon but oh well he's always rotating in my mind so i cant not draw him ig smh#jonmartin#the magnus archives#the magnus archives fanart#tma#tma fanart#the magnus archives spoilers#<- maybe idk but just to be safe#magpod#teaholding#jonathan sims#martin blackwood#jon sims#john sims#cloudyeyes#tma podcats#jmart#niinnyu comics#niinnyu arts
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The real guy is actually worse somehow
(Based on a tiktok request)
#wildchip#pavlova cookie#sugarfly cookie#cookie run kingdom#crk#thought this request was too cute not to indulge#if yall have any requests askbox is open btw tee hee#also that pride post was wild im still recovering
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my heart is too delicate
#fauxunraveling#coquette#girlblog#girlblogging#alana champion#victorias secet model#victoria’s secret angel#girlcore#this is a girlblog#girlhood#lana del ray aka lizzy grant#lizzy grant#mariners apartment complex#my girlblog#dollette#dark dollette#gloomy coquette#pink coquette#2014 nostalgia#i miss 2014#soft moodboard#female hysteria#girl interrupted#girl blogger#gaslight gatekeep girlblog#2014 tumblr#just girly thoughts#just girly things#just girly posts#asks open
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