#whoops.. >>

[an-albino-pinetree]

The nature of one’s nature.

[lazylittledragon]

some domestic shadowlachs <33

[ambrellaexists]

We got torture labyrinth tomorrow (dbbq))

[tyrannosarahsrex8]

Welcome to the “whoops! I accidentally started got manipulated into starting the apocalypse!” Club. Members being Jonathan Sims and Mable Pines. They’re both ✨traumatised✨

Bonus comic

[onefey]

you're going about your normal day when, suddenly, surprise! you've been pokémon mystery dungeon'd!

unfortunately, due to budget cuts, the pokémon assigning quiz has been canceled. instead, you must spin THE WHEEL, assigning you a random, unevolved, non-legendary and non-mythical pokémon. you must now go on some sort of world-saving adventure as this pokémon. good luck!

tell me in the tags what you rolled, and how you feel about it - for bonus points, you can spin the wheel again for (or just take your pick of) a pokémon to be your partner.

bonus rules:

you're not shiny unless the wheel tells you you're shiny

take your pick of regional forms and evolutions (for example, if you roll vulpix, it's up to you whether that means normal or alolan vulpix)

apply whatever logic you like with regards to gender

have fun and be yourself!

[mroddmod]

they are like puppies. 2 me

[thestuffedalligator]

The way necromancy works is this: Everything in your body — meat, bones, skin, blood — has something like a memory. They remember, in their own way, what it’s like to be alive. Skin remembers the sun. Bones remember what shape they’re supposed to be in. Muscle memory is more than just an idiom.

The way necromancy works is that the caster puts a little bit of their willpower into a corpse to order it to remember how it functioned in life and obey. This is easiest to do with bones, which are easy to trick, and becomes increasingly difficult the more of the original body remains.

To reanimate a full body to your command, you have to have a lot of willpower.

The necromancer checked the map. She checked the map again. She squinted up at the stars, lips moving silently. Then, taking the lantern off its hook, she peered over the side of the little sailboat.

There wasn't much to see. The sea was dark and still as glass, except where the lanternlight turned a patch of seawater a yellowish-green. A tiny fish flitted into the gleam, attracted to the light, and then vanished into the murk again.

The necromancer chewed the inside of her cheek. She sat down again, the boat bobbing gently with the movement, and checked the map one more time. Then she opened the little wooden case on the floor of the boat, which unfolded into a neat arrangement of drawers.

There were. Things. In the drawers. Some wriggled. Others twitched little beetly legs into the night air. A few of them made noises, which ran together into a squeaky, wheezy squeal of horror.

The necromancer twiddled her fingers over the display as she considered her options. Then she grabbed a few of the twitching, wriggling things, held them in her palm and squeezed her hand into a fist as tightly as she could with a squelching noise.

She opened her hand to inspect her work. She breathed the spell into it, and then, holding her hand over the edge of the boat, dropped the spell into the sea.

And that seemed to be it. She sat back in the boat and closed the little wooden case. After a moment she started looking over the map again.

There were a lot of handwritten notes on the map. Each one was connected to a mark and some coordinates; some of them said, "Storm 1457," or "Struck a rock 1483." Others said "Total failure," or “Completely dissolved.”

The note the necromancer seemed most interested in was the one that read, “Battle of Salzstein, 1501.”

The necromancer checked the map. She checked the map again. She squinted up at the stars, lips moving silently, and then she was suddenly thrown down to the floor of the boat as though a giant, invisible hand had crushed her.

Her mouth opened in a noiseless scream.

Two minds were fighting for control of the corpse; on one side was the mind of the caster, and on the other was the memories of bones, of flesh, of skin, trying to drive the caster out.

The weight of that mind was incredible.

Sweat poured off the necromancer’s brow; darkness whorled across her vision. Then slowly, every movement a bone-breaking agony, she pushed herself onto her hands and knees, lungs straining.

The trick was that this mind knew how to obey.

The necromancer stood, wobbled, steadied herself and poured her willpower into the sea. She tried to make hers the full willpower the thing had obeyed in life, the will of the wind, of the sea, of the rigging and the wheel.

Because of course it had been alive. In a sense, they were all alive. Sailors talked of them like they were alive, gave them names, called them “she.”

Sailors knew they were alive.

It was the cessation of that life that interested her.

The necromancer reached out with her power, seized the mind in her hands and pulled, blood and foam flecking out the corners of her mouth as she ground her teeth together with the titanic effort and ordered it to obey.

The sea roiled, hundreds of tons of water moving fast as something deep below boiled to the surface.

A bowsprit sprouted from the water. Then a wood-rotted figurehead of a mermaid. Then inch by inch, yard by yard, the huge barnacle-encrusted bulk of silt-stained timber rose out of the deep, seawater streaming out of every gunport.

For a moment the warship hung in the air like a monstrous fish held by the gills of a colossal fisherman. It dropped into the sea with a sound like a depth charge; the little rowboat lurched in its wake.

The necromancer released the spell. Then she threw up, and passed out.

———

Later, once she had woken, gathered together the tackle box, the lantern, and the map and had scrabbled aboard, the necromancer inspected the undead ship.

There was a hole in the hull where a magazine charge had exploded. This was, admittedly, fine. Undead men could walk with a hole in their bellies; an undead ship could sail with one as well.

Really, she thought, despite the discomfort the spell had worked masterfully.

It was a perfect start.

She unfolded the map on the soggy floor of the quarterdeck, sucked the end of a pen, and next to the last marker wrote “Total success.” Then her finger began to trace down the page to the next.

And the undead ship — unbidden and obedient — shifted its sails and began to move south.

[teaboot]

Shoutout to the guy with the white cane at the emergency access door who heard me say "hello sir" and just dropped his head, sighed, and went "this isn't the entrance, is it." Either you're going thru some shit or you're a very funny criminal doing his best and I appreciate that

[pissmamiii]

bouncing on it with the intentions of being ur wife

[phemiec]

love the colours used in this game so here you go 🐴🚀🪓 enjoy

[shrugsinchinese]

Happy Superman trailer day!!!!! July can’t arrive fast enough

[chronicowboy]

living happily in my world where maddie had to listen to her brother meltdown about the implication of being in love with his straight best friend and just. took a picture of him. in his adorable little housewife apron. and went. hmm i wonder who would enjoy this. and sent it to eddie. who she never speaks to. and eddie seeing a text from maddie and freaking out. lunging for his phone only to see a beautiful picture of buck practically glowing. and he's like :) thank you maddie :). and then he sets it as his little contact picture for buck. and he's just smiling to himself for the rest of the day.

[bbbbbbbbatman]

Bruce keeping a tighter and tighter lid on his identity around the Justice League because with each new person to reveal their identity he realizes that he has fucked far too high a percentage of his co workers as Bruce Wayne and he has to take this secret to his grave

[s0up1ta]

"so grunkle ford how do you know bill?"

"... that's not important."

[deathofacupid]

"you have pretty eyes," you murmur, looking up at sukuna. his hands are on the sides of you, your arms hung over his neck. his leaky tip is lined up, poking your swollen clit, just between your thighs.

you've seemed to catch him off guard, because he shifts above you, snorting. "pretty? i do not believe i have heard that one, yet, petal."

you giggle. "that's absurd. they are pretty." soft sex with sukuna is such a rare, fleeting thing. because, well, he didn't care for it. he preferred it rough, mean, and unforgiving.

and, most of the time, you were qualm-less — content with getting railed in thirty different positions, all sure to leave you deadly sore in the morning.

sometimes, though? you just want to be held. and, those times, you're lucky enough for him to just want to hold you.

you're such a small thing, lying there beneath him. it leaves him in awe, at times. so fragile, so delicate. his petal.

"good to know," he says, clearly resisting the urge to roll his eyes, though a ghost of a smile flickers across his face. sukuna bottoms out, gently, quietly grunting.

"fuck..." he mutters, "'s fuckin' tight f'me." his words grow slurred, and are accompanied by your moans. it takes him only a couple seconds, angling himself just right to hit that spot.

"oh- 'kuna, please-please-please-please, just like that," you coo, eyes falling shut. his warmth is homey, and you don't think you ever want to leave. sukuna, contrary to his normal appearance, is everything honey. he is sticky and sweet, and addicting all at the same time.

you cum in sync with him, soft mewls leaving your throat. he curses into the crook of your neck, letting himself inhale your scent. it's familiar. sukuna doesn't pull out, no, not yet. his cock softens inside you, and in this moment, you are one and the same with him.

there's nothing keeping you apart, and he swears this is the most intimate thing he's ever done. and, that? that is a blessing from you, one he is so grateful for.

"i love you," you pant. you find yourself, once more, gazing into his deep, crimson eyes. so, so pretty.

without a beat of hesitance, from where there used to be, "i love you, too."

for @jeonwiixard <3

[parisoonic]

Well, he didn't say it wasn't mechanically impossible.