#imagine the real thing!??

[sualne]

something i wish i'd see more in trigun fanarts is people having vash speak their native/non-english languages completely unprompted, ive seen folks have him speak french, which he canonically knows, but i really do believe he's a polyglot. mostly because of that one time in the desert when he saw the samurai and wanted to greet him in japanese but struggled to remember how to even say hello.

my headcanon is that rem had them learn as many languages as possible but with the big fall and so many people dying, which i think is what led english to became No man's land main (or even only?) language, means that vash (and knives!) both got horribly out of practice and are various sort of rusty in every others languages.

what im saying if there's any pun or joke you've been dying to write but just doesn't work in english vash (and knives!!) are right there!

[velvetwilde]

Who has the face like smarty does?

Who has the voice like smarty does?

Who has the choice like smarty does?

nobody, nobody, nobody.

[numbuh424]

the 2nd half of death note should've just gone full comedy complete with a laugh track and had these two dissing each other the whole time

[felsicveins]

His heart belongs to another

And no other heart will do

[xuxudio]

i'm glad no one was home because i screamed when i realized just who grabbed each bouquet

unreal

[egophiliac]

finished up a pre-work warmup doodle, I promise someday I will draw characters other than Silver (look it's almost his birthday GOSH)

[wi1dshxpe]

i really enjoy the idea that normal friendships/relationships are so foreign to durge and enver that they would come up with any excuse to see each other. like it takes five meetings to make plans for a small scale heist and half of them are over mimosas. the entire plot of bg3 sprung from durge being like “damn what will please dad and let me hang out with enver”

[autisticandroids]

FAMINE: That's one deep, dark nothing you've got there, Dean.

[youtube with closed captions]

dean and his father. dean and his family. dean and how bad it is.

(via @closetoyou1970)

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Bard-aby <3 except he's only loosely a bard bc i don't subscribe to absolutes <3

rambles:

BARNABY WITH PANTS??? BLASPHEMY!!! however this is a (dnd-inspired) fantasy au so. pants! loose pants tucked into modified boots because no one can tell me No!

based off of Clown's pokemon au human Barn, it seems like he might be a bit of a jewelry guy! he was wearing rings! and had an earring! also i think Barn just looks great w/ some extra shinies, yk yk

since ties aren't really a Thing in fantasy settings, i combined the iconic pattern w/ his vest for a two-in-one. then suspenders bc they fuck severely! his belt buckle is a bone both as a nod to the pattern on his tie / house decoration, and to go along with how Wally has an apple buckle! besties stay twinning!

you can't see it but on his other side he has his pack & his smoking pipe holster, which attaches to his belt! it's very high quality leather that he spent so much money on. his pipe is important to him - he carved it himself out of wood from an important tree from his childhood, so he wants it to be properly stored & protected! he has two kinds of tobacco for it - normal, and magic tobacco that essentially allows him to cast minor spells w/ the smoke

the feathers on his hat are from Ms. Beagle! in my mind he left the farm to go adventuring on a bit of a bad note, but his mama made sure to give him a couple feathers to take with so that she'd always be close <3

he keeps his claws blunt so that he doesn't accidentally scratch people/things, and so that he can play stringed instruments without cutting the strings. while i imagine for this au he plays a wide range, he prefers Loud Handheld Instruments that allow him to sing along. so in mind he has an Accordion here! loud! jaunty! but i imagine he also keeps a recorder in his pack for when Frank needs annoying. (he did have a lute, but he broke it over someone's head in the act of defending Wally's honor)

im still trying to pin down the right balance of colors for his outfit, but! for a little au tidbit - all of his spots are the same two blues as his ears. in this im imagining that he, at a young age, learned a very basic cosmetic spell that allowed him to change his spots color to mimic Ms. Beagle's! he wanted to look like his mama! but by the time he's in his late 20s he no longer changes his spots

ohhhh i forgot to add his pockets. Oh Well

[unproduciblesmackdown]

always enjoyed the Chess Set In The Foreground perspective framing used here

now also noting like, huh, a chess set in a general store just visited by marigold competitors who killed one of their guys and are now on the way back from their rendezvous point w/suppliers

[aengelren]

tell him you know a place then drop him off at a therapist

[maerhiya]

in regards to the constant dismissal of his aroace identity, i hate it when alastor 'fans' say and use the excuse: "he's fictional, he won't get offended."

like, you're right, but it can and will offend us.

when you see yourself being represented on screen, of course you'd feel enthusiastic about it — representation allows individuals to see themselves reflected in the media they consume, validating their identities and experiences. but when so many people take that representation and decide to disregard and discard it, it is so fucking frustrating. we finally have another character to be part of the tiny amount of representation we have, but then people don't even care about how much it means to us? like yeah, alastor won't get offended because he's not real, but it frustrates and annoys us. do you realize that it's also technically invalidating the aroace community? that you're invalidating our feelings? imagine feeling like you're finally being seen because your orientation is finally being represented in media, and people just decide to blatantly ignore, discard, and invalidate it.

media has such a powerful influence on real life, representation being a prevalent factor of it. there are numerous posts that dictate how people went to watch a movie/show or read a book just because a character depicts their identity in it — obviously, being represented is an incredibly uplifting and validating experience.

which is why seeing an aroace character in a popular show is so meaningful to us because we live in a world where romance and sex are literally everywhere and prioritized above all else. (and it's pretty obvious that alastor's on the repulsed end of the spectrum, but even if he wasn't, at least make an effort to acknowledge his sexuality instead of continuing to portray him as allo; aroace folks can be in relationships but it's not going to be the same thing with allos' experiences.)

any and every representation matters, but why does that seem to stop at people under the aroace spectrum? like y'all can't even let us appreciate the scraps of representation we have. we barely have any, so are we really that dramatic for being upset at how people easily disregard and dismiss our identities that are being depicted on screen just like that? is it truly wrong of us to want to defend and maintain the little representation we have?

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

why do we go back?

damian wayne x reader

warnings: anxiety, kind of a panic attack?, implied past trauma/abuse

wc: 800

~~

“I went back.”

“Why? They—”

“I don’t know. I don’t know why. I—” 

“Damian, honey, breathe.” 

-

Damian’s brothers don’t text you that often. You don’t have their numbers saved in your phone. Or you didn’t. You have Tim’s now. 

come to the manor now. non-medical emergency 

oh and this is tim by the way 

You don’t even see the text until you’re done with your meeting, phone on do not disturb and notes document in fullscreen mode. It was sent at 1:30 in the afternoon. Bad things aren’t supposed to happen at 1:30 in the afternoon. 

I’m on my way, you text back at 3:00. Is he okay? The response comes as you’re setting up your gps. no. then, i mean he’s fine but no. You pull out of your parking spot a little faster than you should have. 

Once you get on the highway, you turn off the GPS. The number 21 exit towards Bristol and Wayne manor is nearly as familiar as your own. You’re thankful for the dozens of trips you’ve made because Tim calls you five minutes in. 

“What happened?” You can feel your heart pounding in your chest. The anxiety that had taken root when you saw the first text is morphing quickly into fear. 

“He disappeared.” 

“What?” 

“He’s not on manor grounds anymore. But he’s not in his suit.” 

On top of the phone call screen, a push notification lets you know that Damian's code was used to disarm your alarm system. You let out a short breath and switch lanes. Your exit is the next one. 

“I know where he is,” you tell Tim as you shift over into the right lane. It’s a little backed up, the way it always is this time of day, “I got him.”

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” 

You take exit 24 towards the lower east side, then switch to an even more local highway and take exit 8 towards the residential district. When you pull into your parking spot in the cul-de-sac, your house looks empty. When you walk inside, Damian’s combat boots are sitting by the door, not unlaced all the way. One of them is sitting on its side. The other is askew. You let your bag slide off your shoulder to hit the ground next to your own shoes and venture further in. 

Damian’s sitting on the steps in dark casual clothes and white socks with a paint blob pattern. His knees are bent, legs pressed against his chest. Your steps aren’t steep and Damian is very tall. Hands clenched into fists rest on top of his knees. His neck is bent too, forehead pressed against his fists. 

You slide back on the wooden steps when you sit down. Damian doesn’t so much as twitch. You wait for him to come to you. He does. 

“I went back.” His voice is rough but not thick with tears. 

“Why?” You ask. The League leaves him with deep hurts every time he goes back to Nanda Parbat. And not the physical kind. “They—”

“I don’t know!” He exclaims like the words burst out of his chest. The energy propels him up, fingers digging into the arms of his sweatshirt as he rocks on his heels. “I don’t know why. I—” 

“Damian, honey,” You stand to meet him. The emotions in his green eyes are wild, untethered. “Breathe.” He shakes his head at you, fingers curling harder into his sleeves. “You can.” Damian scans your body language and you let him, relaxing the tension in your shoulders and leaving your hands open, arms angled to hold him if he wants it. 

“I’m here,” you say to the hesitation in his eyes. “You’re safe.”

You let out a grunt of air as Damian slams into you. His arms wrap around you tight enough that you think he’s afraid you’ll turn into smoke if he lets go. You raise your arms more slowly, one coming up to rub at his back and the other to cup the back of his neck.His knees buckle. You slow your descent to the ground only barely, saving your knees from catching the brunt of your weight. Your butt stings instead from how hard it hit the floor but it’s worth it when Damian buries his face into the junction between your neck and your collarbone and breathes. They’re choppy loud breaths that come with shoulders shuddering under the hand you have rubbing up and down his back, but no tears hit your neck. 

“I’ve got you,” you whisper to him, cheek pressed against the top of his head. “You’re safe here.” Damian’s arms only tighten further. In response, you hold him tighter too. 

Why do we go back, you wonder, when we know the only thing to come of it is more pain? 

[shady-swan-jones]

- you would make me a tyrant

- i would make you a queen

Concept art by Julien Gauthier

[popponn]

so what if itoshi rin suddenly confesses to you. he calls you to the rooftop and ask you to go out with him after telling you that he likes you.

the thing is that all this time, to you, he is a fellow classmate, a fellow third year who became a soccer superstar after he came back from the blue lock project around a year ago, and someone with a really scary face who doesn't really have friends. yes, you interacted with him quite often because you sat beside him in class—but still, to imagine him confessing to a meek nobody, a total average npc who is easily intimidated like you is something out of your imagination. but in the end, out of fear and panic upon looking at his sharp face, you blurt out a screeching "yes!" and the two of you are dating now.

imagine your surprise when he turns out to be a really sweet, good, proper boyfriend. you initially think he will still keep up the cold guy persona and break up with you harshly within a week—but no. rin could be cursing his teammates hell and back, then you enter the room and he is suddenly a shoujo manga lead who is cool, silent, and gentle. he listens to you, always offers to help you, studies with you every chance he get, he always tries for you, and the list goes on.

can anyone blame you for falling for that?

listen. so i read hay/aku/shitai/futa/ri (it apeared on the tag so there you go slashes) and kind of lost it. it's so cute. and also i keep writing tsundere!rin so i go haha what if i mix up things a bit and make it smitten!rin who fall and confess first to a meek nobody mc despite his cold, scary soccer maniac reputation at school. then suddenly i have a full fic planned out. including the backstory on how he falls to the shoujo esque fluffy ending. the image of a guy who is growling at everyone then just snap his mouth shut with floating flowers around him the moment his lover appear is cute in some ways. (this is an attempt at self control.) (rin is really cute. when will he come back seriously im crying.)(i can go on but my brain is blanking out i will add some if i remember. this is supposed to be my break day but rin delulu is so strong.)

[b4kuch1n]

THEE audiodrama disguised as podcast