#<- implied. vaguely)

[wabbitears]

Wow demo 3 sure was so intense I sure hope demo 4 is a lot lighter and more wholesome! Its gonna be a completely lighthearted chapter as a break from the horrors right?

right?

RIGHT????

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[loveletterworm]

This drawing isn't very literal...cuz that wouldn't really make any sense at all...

[just-qonika]

"i really, loved the literature club."

id like to think after monikas "deleted" this is how it feels to look back on everything that happened; she has a guilty conscience once she realizes how far everything got taken, and how bad it really was.

ᵐᵒⁿⁱᵏᵃ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ˢᵒ ᵐⁱˢˢ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳⁱᶻᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ⁱᵗ ᴴᵁᴿᵀˢ :⁽ ˢʰᵉˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃⁿ ᵉᵛⁱˡ ʸᵃⁿᵈᵉʳᵉ

[yeyinde]

waking up after a night out drinking in a foreign country only to realise that the bed you're in is not your own. no one is beside you. you try to leave but the doors are all locked. the windows won't open. you're trapped. a pretty bird in a cage.

nothing is in the dressers except large, old shirts. the clothes you were wearing when you woke up disappear after you take a shower. no panties. no bra. food shows up on schedule. you never see who leaves it.

they don't answer when you scream. when you bang your fists against the door until they're bloodied. passing out on the floor when the drugs finally kick in. but the mess you make in the daytime is cleaned up. your hands bandaged. disapproval heavy in the air along with the stale scent of tobacco. smoke.

when you're good, you get things. books. magazines. treats. your favourite food. a laptop arrives when you sob yourself to sleep after screaming yourself hoarse about loneliness, and how this isn't right. this isn't okay. it's restricted, of course. you log into Facebook but the moment you try and ask for help, the internet is turned off. you're being watched. monitored closely.

you learn your lesson slowly, giving nothing away to your family and pretending you're enjoying your holiday. being good. quiet.

instead of treats, gifts, recipe books arrive—some pages dogeared. you start making the food. leaving a plate in the fridge. it's gone the next morning. more recipes appear. you make them, too. an expensive chain comes next. a pretty gold necklace for a pretty bird in a golden cage.

(each meal gets you a strange rash on your cheek, jaw the next morning. beard burn, you think, and try not to shudder.)

lingerie comes after. silk, lace. all of it fits perfectly. you try to avoid it. the idea, the implication, is a knife between your ribs, but the next morning, your laptop is missing. the books are gone. food, too. your clothes disappear until all that remains is the lingerie set and a little black box. one you pointedly ignore. throw out with the trash. chew on gum to make the ache in your belly go away until that vanishes too.

your world is narrowed down to hunger. loneliness. isolation—

(in the corner of the rooms, a red light glints in the dark. lonely, but not alone.)

it persists until you relent. give in. another lesson you learn. you wear the set to bed, and try to think nothing of it—

you wake up to something heavy around you. a warm, thick body pressed against your bare spine. coarse chair tickling the skin between your shoulder blades. a burly arm under your neck, elbow bent to wrap a rough hand around your neck. the other slung over your hip, shoved between your thighs. something hard presses into your ass. a bruising pressure. it aches. you stifle a gasp, but with his long, thick fingers wrapped tight around your throat, he feels it.

everything goes still. quiet. just the faint rustle of sheets. the scratch of coarse hair on silk. a breath. you tremble. fight back another gasp when lips press into your crown with a sharp inhale. scenting you. nuzzling into your scalp. warm breath that smalls of malt and honey. woodsy. tobacco.

your eyes adjust slowly to the dark, and fall on a black box left on top of your end table. velvet, you know. you've felt the softness between your fingers when you threw it in the trash with a sob. no escaping it, after all.

the hand between your thighs twitches. when he speaks, it shudders through your spine, makes your hair stand on end. it's a growling purr. the low roar of an old engine. more grit than comfort in the midnight dark.

"jus' close your eyes, love," he rasps, pushing his thick body tighter against you. coiling around you like a big, hungry bear. "an' go back to sleep for me."

and you do.

[andstuffsketches]

girl's night

[starlooping]

@sifsys provided the quote! hi bestie

[qualityrain]

nomura put them on one side and sora and neku on the other to maximise their joint yearning they’re so embarrassing

WHY ARE THEY SO EMBARRASSING.

[lucabyte]

you dream of devouring your friends whole

[windybluebelles]

A lot of the justice league canonically have children who they raised more or less since birth,

(there’s a few time travel/rapid aging/losing them for a few years issues, but ignoring those)

,It’s not entirely out there to think that one of them would bring their kid to the watch tower.

I want there to be a fic where someone brings their kid, and have that kid meet Captain Marvel. There’s no doubt on this persons mind that Cap will adore the kid, he’s great at interacting with children, and their right! He’s great with the baby, answering their questions, picking them up, giving them hugs and high fives, all the cool shit!

He’s this 9 foot tall god speaking to a 3 foot tall toddler and answering all their questions with the seriousness of an actual interview, it’s going wonderfully!

When the kid toddles off to go interview another one of the supers, Billy turns with this big grin on his face and asks the parent,

“So how old did you say they were? 2?”

And the parents like,

“No? They turn 5 in a couple months,”

And Captain’s smile just, drops.

His face pales, he looks back at the child who is chatting with one of the more human members and doesn’t even reach their waist. That’s what a four year old looks like, laughing at everything, chubby cheeks, small curls, and teeny tiny body.

That’s how big four year olds are.

That’s how big Billy was.

That’s what Billy looked like after his parents had died and he was sent to live with his uncle.

That was what Billy looked like right before he became homeless

Oh God-

That’s the day when he found that he could technically throw up while powered up.

[stars-obsession-pit]

“Oh, I should probably be getting home soon,” Steph lamented, checking the time on her phone.

“Want me to call you a cab or something?” Tim asked. “You definitely shouldn’t be driving right now ‘cause of how many drinks you’ve been having.”

Steph seemed to consider for a moment, then brightened suddenly. “Oh, no need! I have a better idea!” She pulled out a folded piece of parchment and flattened it out on the floor.

Tim looked over and saw it was covered in a strange circle filled with scrawled writing. He couldn’t identify it for sure, but it was almost certainly magic.

“Steph, what on earth is that—?” he tried to ask, but was cut off by her starting to loudly chant something. The circle began to glow a vibrant, lazarus green. Everyone else in the room was staring at them now.

“Steph, no, really—”

He cut himself off and threw his arms up in front of his face as a burst of green light filled the room. Blinking away the spots from his vision, he saw at a black-cloaked figure now floating in the air above the circle, a crown of prismatic ice shards wreathed in green flames sat atop his head.

They began to say something, but before the first syllable even left their mouth, Steph leapt for the figure and hugged them.

“Danny!”

The figure—Danny(?)—looked almost as flummoxed as Tim felt. “Wha— Steph? What’s going on?”

Steph pulled back suddenly, clapping her hands together. “Right! Yeah! So, I need a ride home, please?”

Danny blinked, speechless. “You summoned the Ghost King for a ride home?”

She pouted. “What’s wrong with that?”

He facepalmed. “Steph— oh, wait, you’re drunk, aren’t you.”

“Yep!”

He sighed. “Alright. Fine, whatever, sure. Just, don’t make a habit of this, okay?”

He held out a hand wreathed in green energy.

“Okay!” She took his hand, and both figures—plus the summoning circle—vanished in another flash of green light.

Silence reigned.

“What the fuck?”

[snakeguy999]

Do u think they play around with their disproportions

[the-emo-sanses]

Hey Nightmare, I think you might be weird-ing Error out…(and Error I think Nightmare likes you.)

yeah. NOBODY IS WINNING.

Just wait till I answer Horrors asks too

[spiritmessage]

i can’t defend the booty shorts/thigh highs combo from a watsonian perspective so just make something up for yourself

[strawberrus0da]

There’s a utmv joke in here somewhere

[sualne]

your body isn't your own

[zzoupz]

I support the nuclear family

original