#absolutely ripped my heart out

[realtalk127]

Imogen, listen to me. I need you to make me a promise right now.

[brother-emperors]

CAESAR AUGUSTUS AND MARCUS LICINIUS CRASSUS

this is about the spolia opima that crassus was robbed of lmao. like, yeah okay octavian could've asked him not to claim it, but nevertheless. a kind of theft happened there.

Fact and Fiction: Crassus, Augustus, and the Spolia Opima, Catherine McPherson

[sorsabruh]

About to lose my mind Bee please give me a chance I'm not okay

(Design from @2-eeillustration , only did some casual modifications :D )

[bruciemilf]

the most enraging aspect of art is knowing exactly how you want it to look and yet. And yet.

[redding]

girls when I don't see the dead anymore, or the ones I lost, or the sun, the sky, or the water. I don't see you anymore. I just see what's ahead. Metal rotors and gun oil and blood. What I have to do, what I can do, to help save the world, even if you don't know I ever did that. I love you so much. I love you so, so much. I tried. Please, just know I tried. I tried, but I failed.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

do you ever just sit there thinking about your favorite ocs while violently shaking. god. clenches fist. They're So.

[truezero]

POV I am getting slammed into the concrete floor by One Single Line from a song

[ishdaj]

Past Lives (2023) screenshot redraw

[cgi-heart-eyes]

another night, another hour spent watching dndads animatics and crying

[sotvtaughtmehowtofeel]

Cee wasn’t where she was supposed to be.

She was supposed to be on Kamrea, with her parents, living in a cottage and reading in the garden with her mother. Damon was supposed to be there, but as he had been, not what he’d become, the shattered perversion of a decent father warped into a monster by grief and drugs and whatever fatal failing allowed a man to turn on his own child.

Kamrea wasn’t where she was supposed to be.

She was supposed to be in the Pug, living in a rundown apartment building with Damon and scanning boards every few weeks to find the next gutter job to get them through to the next month and the next batch of Damon’s drugs.

The Pug wasn’t where she was supposed to be.

She was supposed to be in the Green, with her father, prospecting, looking for something valuable under a dangerous, inhospitable surface. She was supposed to be his assistant, helping him in his pursuit of wealth.

The Green wasn’t where she was supposed to be.

She was supposed to be somewhere else.

Cee wasn’t supposed to be on a space station between BG and Lao, sitting in a cantina with the man who had murdered her father. She wasn’t supposed to be leaning into him to elbow him playfully, joking about which planet they should visit next. She wasn’t supposed to be resting her chin on his shoulder, double-checking his calculations as he mapped out their course. She wasn’t supposed to be grinning freely in excitement for their next adventure, ready to travel the stars with a violent man who had entered her life with murder and exploitation. She wasn’t supposed to be in a position where she trusted that man with her life. Cee wasn’t supposed to be planning a future with her father’s killer.

But she’d found love where it wasn’t supposed to be.

[hubblebubblehub]

I can't wait for them to show that clone-x is just a random clone and we're all just projecting like the clowns we are 🤡🤡🤡

[vegaseatsass]

I was describing DFF to a friend from CQL fandom and she said New with Non sounded kind of like Huaisang with Mingjue, and it def clarified a lot for me about how I feel about both avenging brothers.

The ends don't justify the means, the cats and children and working class servants murdered along the way aren't erasable casualties in the name of a true justice, and these avengers are fundamentally unhinged, twisted, broken people, not righteous seekers of fairness in the world. But I love that both of them are driven by real desperation and are frantic and messy in how much they need to make their revenge happen at any cost; someone trying to burn the world down in their grief, and actually taking the good parts of the world and themselves down along with their target(s), adds so much texture and dimension to the narrative for me.

I love a justice story and an ethical revenge, but for example w/ The Glory, even though that's for me the best it's ever been done, we still have things like a woman being victim-blamed for her rape and drug addiction as narratively acceptable modes of vengeance. I find something freeing in a story that isn't about punishment and who deserves what, but just about the emotional depths people are driven to by loss and rage and the unfairness of a world with no accountability.

[resident-rats]

“People can change, right?”

*violently starts screaming, crying and throwing up*

[hero-of-the-undersea]

HELPPPP I LOVE SODA SO MUCH

[breadhalfburnt]

FINALLY GOT THE THING THAT’S BEEN SITTING IN THE DUST FOR LIKE, TWO MONTHS FINISHED!!

the one and only @not-the-organ ‘s Hearts! (or well. most of them)

click on the image(s) to see it better please, i’m sure it looks terribly crunchy

[cropped-ish images below the cut + slight rambling]

so i know that this is. Terribly. outdated (and late) but just think of it as a blast to the past of sorts!

(i also just didn’t trust myself to have the energy to add 2 more fellas and update everything. sorry. i would’ve done it if i could)

and before anyone asks, Heart-Chan’s headband is under the hood. i just really really liked how it looked with the hood up

okay thankk you bye-

[nyoomfruits]

heyo! for the twenty-four touches series, would you care to do no. 24, "A gentle kiss on the forehead, a sweet goodbye"?

love you, have a great day!

hi!!! i... went a bit in a sad direction with this i'm SO sorry (promtp from this list, feel free to send me one if you want!)

tw: serious injury, angst, ambigious (sad) ending

It’s late, when Pierre finally makes his way into the hospital room. The lights are turned off, aside from a small lamp above the nightstand. It casts a meager light over the bed, or more specifically, the person on the bed.

Charles looks small, and oh so very fragile, and Pierre needs a moment, needs to breathe, needs to remind himself that he’s still alive, he’s still here, before he continues into the room. His eyes catch on the chair next to Charles’s bed, to the person sitting in it.

“Max,” he says, softly, as not to startle him.

Max, who’d been leaning on the side rail of Charles’s bed, trailing his fingers over Charles’s lifeless arm, looks up. “Pierre,” he says, getting up quickly and pulling him into a tight hug.

Pierre squeezes him close for a second, finding comfort in someone who understands, before pulling away and letting Max settle back into his chair as he goes to stand at Charles’s bedside. “How is he?” He asks, eyes roaming over the wires, the bandages, the bruises that are visible.

“Alive,” Max says, voice rough. “But barely. He hasn’t woken up, since…” Max trails off.

Pierre nods, as Max buries his face in his hand. “I keep seeing it. I keep seeing the car-“ Max cuts himself off again and raises his head. “What if he doesn’t? Wake up?”

“He will. He will wake up,” Pierre says, trying to sound confident. Doesn’t add ‘he has to’ doesn’t say ‘I don’t think we’d survive if he doesn’t’.

Max is staring at Charles again, eyes bloodshot and tired. Pierre only notices now he’s still in his race suit, indicating he never even stopped to change, just went straight to the hospital and then refused to leave. It’s a heartbreaking sight. “Where’s Pascale?” He asks, looking around the room.

“She needed to rest, so I send her to the hotel. Promised I’d call if anything changed,” Max says, not tearing his eyes away from Charles.

“And you?” Pierre asks. When Max lets out a confused noise he adds. “You look like you might need some rest, too. And maybe a change of clothes.” Max looks at him, small and tired and broken, and Pierre sighs. “Let me. Let me watch him for a bit, yeah? Get a change of clothes, shower, maybe have a nap. I promise you I’ll call the second anything happens.”

Max stares at him for a long time, then glances down at his race suit. “Yeah, I. You’re right, I’ll-“ he gestures towards the door, and gets up. There’s a moment where he just stares at Charles, and then he leans forward, and every so carefully places a gentle kiss on Charles’s forehead. “Bye, love. I’ll be back soon,” he whispers, and Pierre turns his head away. He feels like he’s intruding on a deeply private moment.

Eventually Max rights himself and heads towards the exit. At the door, he pauses. “The second anything happens,” he reminds Pierre, who nods, and settles into the chair Max has just vacated.

Max seems mollified, and leaves. Pierre leans back in the uncomfortable plastic chair. The monitor beeps rhythmically.

Charles doesn’t move.