They Make Me Sick - Blog Posts

thinking about toga's relationship with the LoV. like. these adult men who kill people took better care of toga than her own parents. that 17 yo girl was safer with them, the "villains", than with her OWN PARENTS.

as soon as they got money they got her a cute coat that she liked for winter. they kept her fed and safe. they made sure she had fun and could be herself and they trusted her with tasks and told her to live the way she wants while also telling her to come back to them, making sure she felt both free and wanted.

Toga is the only kid in the LoV. and when they lost magne she became the only girl. and they always made her feel safe and nurtured and included. RAAAAAH

part of it I think is the guys being keenly aware of how young she is. they all went through something terrible when they were kids, or in their past. but for toga it's right now. she is that kid. and they won't let her be abandoned and neglected like they were

NO ONE TOUCH ME THEY ARE HER FAMILY THEY TOOK HER IN I'M UNWELL ABOUT THEM

world is rin’s 🫶

hey worstie lemme help you find out how you taste

WHY IS IT 2025 ALREADY

HAPPY NEW YEAR THO

the way this meme has aged is SPECTACULAR

They make me sick🙏I'm scared to watch s5 but I will tonight:]Also this is my desing of Macaque:333

He’s been waiting..

God, Epic has ruined my Brynth brain.

Synth as Penelope...

"I'm supposed to choose a suitor to wear the crown I said I would choose as soon as I weave this shroud They don't know That every night I unthread all the work I've done Cause I'd rather lie Than allow them to think they've won Though I never thought that I'd resort to this Just know I'll be here"

and

"Whoever can string my husband's old bow And shoot through twelve axes cleanly Will be the new king, sit down at the throne And rule with me as his queen"

Synth who is stalling the suitors for 20 years for Branch to come home.

GAHH GAHH GAHH YES YES YES THEYRE BOTH AWFUL AND EVIL AND SO SO HUMAN I LOVE THEMMM

Bruce is very good at taking care of his own problems. He’s always been very good at it. Adults praise him for it all the time.

But then his parents died, and Bruce feels like he can’t do anything right. He knows he can’t. After all, if he was as good as adults said he was, then he could’ve saved his parents.

He should’ve been able to save his parents.

There is a darkness growing within him. Bruce doesn’t know what to do.

——

Alfred is grieving. Alfred is grieving, and he is also very angry.

He was just a butler; why is he now taking care of his deceased employer’s child? It’s not like the Waynes don’t have any other alive family branches, like the Kanes. But no, Thomas and Martha’s will clearly stated that if anything happened to them, Bruce would stay with Alfred in the Wayne Manor.

Now he’s forced to take care of a child he never wanted. How is that fair?

——

Alfred is angry all the time now but not in the way he used to be. Bruce knows it’s because of him. Every time the older man looks at him, he gets this strange look in his eyes.

Bruce can feel that it’s a bad look.

Maybe it’s because he’s even more useless now? It’s hard to get out of bed, but it’s even harder to fall asleep.

Loud noises make him jump, and the only thing he can think about is Mommy and Daddy hitting the floor, over and over and over and over and—

Alfred accidentally dropped something in the kitchen. Bruce doesn’t really remember what happened; it gets blurry and makes his head hurt to think about it, but the next thing he knows he hears screaming.

Bruce is pretty sure it’s coming from him. It sounds like Mommy’s.

——

The kid has a hair trigger. Alfred feels like walking on eggshells. Every small thing sends him into a raging meltdown.

Several times he has to stop himself from packing a bag and escaping in the middle of the night, fleeing back to England just so things could be normal.

Bruce doesn’t even talk anymore. Before the Waynes died, little Bruce talked almost nonstop in the manor.

Now an eerie quiet fills the space unless the small boy decides to have nightmares or another breakdown.

His silence is unnerving and creepy.

——

Bruce misses hugs.

Alfred doesn’t like being touched, not one bit. Mommy and Daddy loved hugging him and kissing him and just picking him up for funsies. But now no one will touch him.

Maybe it’s because they know he killed his parents. Maybe they think that if they touch Bruce, they’ll die too?

Bruce wouldn’t be too surprised…

It’s been months. Bruce doesn’t know why he isn’t better yet, why he keeps making problems for Alfred, why he’s so different now…

——

Alfred had calmed down a lot. He partially understands why the Waynes have left Bruce in his care; that doesn’t make it any easier.

Bruce has always been a particular child. Alfred would get him tested, but high society talks, and he doesn’t want to subject the young boy to even more press coverage.

Besides, what can a shrink do for the young master? Nothing hard work can’t teach him. Alfred worked through all his problems like that, and he turned out perfectly fine.

——

Bruce doesn’t want to start going to galas again…

Mr. Mauter always gives him strange looks, and now that Daddy isn’t here to give an excuse to pull him away, he’s even more afraid.

But Bruce is supposed to be fixing his own problems now. Alfred already does too much for him; he can see how exhausted he’s making him.

He’s the man of the house now. He has to be strong.

——

Master Bruce is talking again, even if it looks like it visibly pains him. Alfred is taking it slowly. Each day he finds he has more and more patience.

He allows the small child to follow him around as he completes his daily chores; he’s yet to acknowledge it yet. The first time he said something, Bruce scampered away quickly, and it took a week for him to start doing it again.

He’s taking it slow. He doesn’t want Bruce to be afraid to ask him for help anymore.

No hugs yet, but Alfred allows himself to pat Master Bruce on the shoulder.

——

Bruce can make cookies now! Alfred taught him the most perfect way ever!

They were Daddy’s most favorite cookies. Bruce feels a painful pang in his chest as he thinks about it, something that has happened very often in the past year.

Instead of crying, because Bruce is a big boy now, he walks up the hill at the back of the manor where Mommy and Daddy now rest peacefully.

Bruce lays down two of his best cookies on a nice napkin on Daddy’s grave.

He knows Mommy wouldn’t let Daddy get hungry in heaven, but it’s always a good idea to have a nice snack just in case.

——

Alfred distances himself.

He’s getting too attached. He’s now constantly reminding himself, Master Bruce, that he is nothing more than a butler.

——

Bruce had a fever.

He was delirious, and he accidentally called Alfred Dad.

Alfred no longer looks him in the eyes.

The darkness creeps in; it is all-consuming.

——

Alfred feels bad.

He catches Master Bruce practicing his smiles in the mirror, doing his best to look normal.

It’s fine. He needs to work him harder, make him understand that he can’t show weakness. Bruce will thank him when he’s older, when he is stronger, when he is better.

Alfred turns around and pretends not to see. The next time Bruce gives him that smile, he looks like Martha and tells him that he’s fine; Alfred does not argue.

——

Bruce can see that Alfred has stopped trying with him. It hurts, but he also wonders why it didn’t happen sooner.

He drops out of school.

He can’t be a doctor, not like his father was. He’s not worthy.

Gotham is his home. It’s always been his home. But right now? It feels more suffocating than ever.

——

Alfred finds them tucked away neatly in Bruce’s desk, right next to a half empty box of razors.

He reads each and every letter, his heart growing heavier when he realizes how many years ago it started.

Each letter starts the same, always addressing Alfred and saying it’s not his fault.

He holds two identical letters in his hands.

One, only a week after the incident. The second one, dated yesterday.

Alfred puts them back and never speaks about it. He can feel the guilt crawling up his throat and trying to choke him.

He knows Bruce knows.

They never speak about it.

——

Bruce knows he is evil. There is only darkness within him. He is destined to hurt and destroy the people around him.

He has to figure out a way to contain it, to keep it deep inside before he ruins everything.

Bruce only leaves a note when he goes. It is barely two sentences. Where is he going? He doesn’t know.

The entire world is open to him.

cutie patooties

We’re so back!!

I'm here now

saw someone point out that in this scene katsuki is showing off his card and izuku is holding his card close to his heart and i haven’t stopped thinking about it

this song has been on repeat bruh,, also weather is so freaking bad rn my wifi is dookie -_-

fic: nightmares by toomanymangos

WHY DO ALL LIS GAY COUPLES HAVE TO BE SO DOOMED 💔💔💔💔 PLEAASEEEE I CANT LIVE LIKE THIS ANYMORE

please wake up

um

Once Bitten, Twice Shy

the mistletoe comic by @heynhay was so so cute that it inspired me to write this little oneshot about the only red-blue pair ever

most of the dialogue from the beginning to the mistletoe scene is lifted directly from the comic, but then the story just snowballed from there !! it's under the cut and also here on ao3 <3

happy holidays!!!

When it happened, Lance had just put the finishing touches on the Castle’s first Christmas.

“There!” He steps back to admire his handiwork, before whipping around to flourish to the surrounding team. “Now we have an authentic Earth Christmas celebration!” Pidge coughs pointedly. “Well, as authentic as it can be with random alien stuff…but we made do!”

Lance surveys the room, from the makeshift tree decorated by Shiro and Keith to the red and green lights rigged by Pidge, and nods with pride. “We got it all–cozy sweaters from the Space Mall, adorable cookies made by our good chef Hunk, and of course, mistletoe!” He gestures to the drooping plant, taped to the arch of the door by his own two hands.

Allura peers up in question, eyebrows furrowed. “Why have you attached it to the door on its own?”

Lance grins. As the resident aliens, Lance had forced Allura and Coran to spectate the holiday decorating so that they could learn more about Earth culture, refusing to let them lift even a finger to help. They had spent the day learning about Christmas trees and ugly sweaters, gingerbread houses and presents, and now here came another teaching moment.

“Well, princess, anyone who walks under it has to be kissed,” he explains, winking and puckering his lips in demonstration. When Allura simply raises an eyebrow in response, Lance shrugs. “I’m just saying, a little smooch is in the Christmas spirit. You wouldn’t reject an honored cultural tradition, would you?”

He bats his eyelashes and pouts, laying the charm on as thick as he can, but the princess stays unmoved. “I fear in this case,” she snarks back, sticking her tongue out in jest, “I must.”

The rest of the team starts to giggle. “Struck out again, Lance,” Pidge remarks, a sly glint in their glasses. “Can’t take a hint, can you?”

“Ooh, good one, Pidge,” Hunk snickers, the two of them high fiving while Keith rolls his eyes.

Flushing, Lance blurts out, “Well, some say it’s bad luck to leave a mistletoe victim unkissed, and—“

While he lets his mouth run wild to save the last dregs of his dignity, Lance watches Keith march over in the corner of his eye. Faint warning bells ring in the back of his mind, and they grow frantic when Keith stops in front of him, gaze hard and searching.

“Keith? Buddy?” Lance chuckles nervously, all too aware of their newfound proximity and position under the mistletoe. This close, he can see the slightest wrinkle in his teammate’s forehead, and he’s struck with the absentminded thought to smooth it out, just to see how Keith would react. Such an absurd idea makes Lance trail off, uncertainty coloring his last half-hearted laughs, when Keith seems to find what he’s been looking for and pulls him down into a kiss.

For a few short seconds, Lance’s mind is utterly blank, shorting out while he tries to process the fact that Keith is kissing him—him!—in front of the entire team. For once in his life he regrets running his idiotic mouth (but how could he regret it, when it has led him here?) but then all too soon it’s over and Lance is shoved away.

“There,” Keith grumbles, face red and fist still gripping Lance’s ugly Christmas sweater. “Wouldn’t want you to have bad luck.” He lets go and stalks out of the room, leaving a gaping Lance behind. 

“Dude,” Pidge says, the first to break the silence of the shellshocked team, “go talk to him.”

Lance jolts out of his reverie, making a mad dash for the door and flinging it open. “Keith!” He calls out into the hallway, ready to start running again. “Keith, where are—“

“I’m right here.”

“—oh.” Turning to the side, Lance sees Keith hunched right next to the doorway, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Keith, dude, you- you can’t just kiss me and then run away.”

“Why not?” He bites out, which would’ve been more threatening were it not for his bright red ears. “You would’ve kept complaining about your ‘cultural tradition’ until someone kissed you–I just took one for the team.”

“Well, good on you for being a team player,” Lance elbows him playfully, but when Keith raises his shoulders even further he switches gears. “But Keith, you gotta know that you kissing me isn’t the same as Pidge or Hunk.”

Keith snorts. “Yeah, to you it’s worse.”

And Lance knows he needs to be cautious, knows that he has to be wary of which buttons to press to make sure the stubborn bastard right next to him doesn’t run away again, but he has just been kissed by that same stubborn, stupidly-handsome bastard so excuse his lack of judgement in what was surely to be his biggest drama queen performance since the Voltron show.

He lets out a long, obnoxious groan and throws his hands up into the air. “That’s not what I’m trying to say at all.” Now it’s Keith’s turn to gape as Lance rounds on him, jabbing a finger into his chest. “News flash, mullet, you are very enjoyable to kiss, and even before that you were always annoyingly pretty with your purple eyes and your moodiness and your- ugh!” 

Rendered inarticulate by a fierce blush, Lance gestures at all of Keith in total frustration before sliding to the floor, covering his face. He feels more than hears Keith sit down next to him, tensing at their closeness for the second time that day.

“I thought you hated me,” Keith says softly. When Lance peeks through his fingers, he sees none of the acid from before–only an honest, unguarded confusion left on his features, along with a flush rivaling Lance’s own.

Lance sighs and lets his hands drop, head thunking against the Castle wall. “I was never serious about that. It was all just an act, my own bravado getting the best of me. I never meant to make you feel like I actually hated you.”

“Oh.” 

The conversation trails off, Keith falling silent to ruminate on whatever it is pretty paladins think about while Lance struggles not to scream and draw more attention to himself after his completely unplanned failure of a confession. God, what was he thinking?

“You were enjoyable to kiss, too,” Keith speaks out into the hallway, voice a pleasant rumble. When Lance whips his head around, he smirks, continuing, “and you’re not too bad to look at, either.”

Lance huffs, though his flaming cheeks diminish his act of indignation. “Excuse you, I am a goddamn delight.”

Keith’s mouth curls into a smile, sufficiently drawing all of Lance’s attention as he goads, “Prove it, then.” 

Lance is already reaching for Keith’s sweater to pay him back for his mistletoe stunt, but something in the other’s expression gives him pause. Under Keith’s determination, under that familiar flare of competition, there’s a hesitance in his eyes that has Lance wavering.

“I hope you know I’m not doing this for some contest or rivalry,” he mumbles, worrying at the bottom of his lip. “I really do want to kiss you.”

“Good,” Keith lets out a breath, snaking a hand around the nape of Lance’s neck, “because I really want to kiss you too.”

With that, he pulls Lance closer–or is it the other way around?–into a kiss. The angle is awkward at first, a mess of hands and noses, but then Lance winds his arms around Keith’s neck and Keith adjusts his grip on the back of Lance’s head and everything clicks. Keith’s lips are impossibly soft and they taste like the herb Hunk used for the sugar cookies, which is how Lance knows that he was sneaking bites when they were supposed to be setting up, but he can’t find it in himself to care when he’s too busy congratulating himself for running his mouth and landing himself in this situation in the first place.

Then the door creaks open, and the two spring apart.

“Glad to see you two resolved your differences,” Shiro remarks, raising a knowing eyebrow. Hunk slides a snickering Pidge a hundred GAC, while Allura just seems relieved to see that she would no longer be the victim of Lance’s flirting. “Now let’s head back inside–someone is a bit eager to open their gifts.”

At this, Pidge pumps their fist and ushers the team back to the Christmas tree, leaving Lance and Keith lingering in the doorway. In a moment of bravery, Lance laces his fingers with Keith’s, causing the other to jolt in surprise.

“Merry Christmas, Keith.” He squeezes their hands together with a light smile, tugging the other to where the team waited.

When Lance looks back, he’s graced with the sight of a crinkly-eyed Keith, warm with quiet affection. “Merry Christmas, Lance.”

I drew this yesterday.

wiege

They're everywhere and i'm sick. of. it!

My favorite gays

thinking about sang-woo's face whenever ali says something that reminds him how out of his depth the guy is.

i mean, sang-woo has this general air of constant guilt going for him in the show, but you can see the exasperation in there whenever this happens.

bonus: sang-woo's immediate reaction to finding out ali's got a one-year-old baby boy waiting for him at home.

it's not a squid game character unless all their relationships are doomed.

My heart, it aches.

tell me, cho sang-woo, does the guilt eat you alive?

middle school bkdk anthem, for izuku specifically

wiege | alien stage

— 02/14/25

watching you (please look at me once)

Something that I think doesn't get talked about enough is the fact that erasermic always ALWAYS come in a pair. If there's one, the other is bound to show up eventually. It's so prevalent not only in the fandom spaces but in canon as well. They are inseparable, whether you ship them or not. They met one day and now one can't live without the other. One can't die without the other. They are so intertwined with each other that they almost become one. And yes, that is contradictory in the sense that they are complete opposites of each other. But I think that's the thing that makes them so dependent on each other. They are NEVER going to find someone as far from the spectrum that they share because they are so far away from each other that it loops back around with their ass cheeks pressed together. Again, it comes back to the point of inseparability of these characters. And it's driving me crazy that it doesn’t get talked about enough.

married caitvi<3

in which phillip shows up on vincent's doorstep covered in monster goo and they have realizations

they pursued careers fully depending on passion, which made them have to lose the passion for each other-