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#there is only one water
heart-wit-strength · 2 months
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Seven seas this five oceans that, reject human terminology and come together as one salty boy
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bumbleboa · 4 months
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I saw one scruffy older Cora-san design and had to draw my take on it immediately, with a bonus Law to fill space.
You can say a lot of things about One Piece Odyssey, but it did give us a Law & Cora tag-team fight in which Law shambled to the location of Cora's bullets and that is just objectively cool.
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rufwooff · 2 months
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They're not naked anymore
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(I attached all the refs in which they have clothes so that it would be more convenient to look for them myself) Raph already had shorts, so I won't change anything
orig refs
It's funny to me that these three were the only ones without clothes hehehehe
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knifebun · 7 months
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look. so many people use the classist card for this, but if you can't afford to feed an animal a diet that's not going to cause serious medical issues that will either kill it or require medical treatment for the rest of the animal's life, then maybe you shouldn't own this animal. "poor people deserve to have animal companions too" yes absolutely i agree, but maybe not at the expense of the animal's health.
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Y'all are being awfully quiet about what they did to gifs on mobile...
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mlpoutofcontext · 1 year
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spielzeugkaiser · 2 months
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I come back for a hot second (and go into hiding pretty much right again) with some redrawn screencaps of what I'm watching currently!! 👀 All I have in me are the sillies-
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toboldlymuppet · 2 months
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gripped by fear
my piece for dark waters, an op angst zine
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chiptrillino-art · 7 months
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In the Spirit World, roughly 400 years ago.
When you are just a little blue guy. But the greater gods found a liking in you. And then you ended up as chewtoy for Koh.
Spirit shenanegans at their finest.
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thedisablednaturalist · 9 months
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Literally all the shit rich people have turned into luxuries are stuff many disabled people need (or would need to manage their pain but can't afford it)
Comfy ergonomic chairs
Indoor pool/hot tub (therapy bath)
Massages on the regular
Aides (rich people call them servants)
Yea even a cook who makes you special meals (perfect for people with special dietary needs and for those with severe allergies, as well as people who are in too much pain or are otherwise unable to cook)
Elevators in your house (even small ones just for groceries, my rich aunt has one in her beach house!)
Rich people don't buy these for fun I hope but custom powerchairs are obscenely expensive. It pisses me off when I see another person invent "the wheelchair of the future!" Which then is literally never fucking used because none of us can afford it (and insurance definitely won't pay)
Indoor gyms or even personal exercise equipment. Hard to go out to a gym somewhere else when you're disabled, especially if you are immunocompromised
Outdoor spaces to relax in. It's literally vital for your mental health to at least see the outdoors. I'd rather be bedridden in a sunroom (with retractable blinds) than a shitty apartment with one tiny window.
There's even freaking health retreats these people go to regularly. There's a fibromyalgia retreat in new york where they basically take care of all your needs while trying different treatments and seeing which ones help. Either it's heaven or making money off of scamming desperate people who are able to scrape the money together to go.
Private planes, which I honestly think shouldn't exist, but one that specifically catered to people with disabilities (spaces for wheelchairs/other mobility devices, accessible handicapped airplane bathroom, anxiety reducing tools, trained medical personnel and care team)
Also customized cars, except instead of making gas guzzling racecars to joyride in while everyone else is trying to get to work, cars with electric ramps, lifts, doors, cars customized for someone with limb differences. Those cars where you can roll your wheelchair right up to the wheel. Fuck even self driving cars once they are no longer deathtraps.
Skincare products that are safe for sensitive skin like eczema but also actually work
Nice-looking clothes customized to fit limb differences, access points, look good in wheelchairs, colostomy bags, etc. while also being comfortable and not fast fashion.
Dental care!!! What the fuck why is this shit so expensive!! I don't want my teeth to fall out!! (Disabled people usually need more dental care bc we have a harder time keeping up maintenance)
Rich people go and splurge on all of these even though they don't need them while calling disabled people selfish for begging their insurance for even one of these.
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charlietheepicwriter7 · 4 months
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R̸̜̈́u̵̟͘t̶̺̓ḧ̵͇l̷̟̋ē̶̘s̵̨̎s̵̩͒ṋ̵̋e̵͙̐s̵̡̈́ś̸͙
Get in the Water prompt Storm alternate version Animatic Fanart
There was a spell, Constantine had explained after his own trip to the afterlife. Something to contain Danyal's soul long enough to resolve his unfinished business, to keep him still and away from the influences of his fellow dead. And if that didn't work, Constantine continued, then there were ways to force a spirit to rest. It was better for a ghost to move on by themselves, but if there was no other choice...
Damian hoped Danyal would choose to rest on his own. That he'd let him explain, finally.
Danyal had been weak. Strong in a fight, but too weak to kill, and that infuriated Damian. But he was scared more than he was angry. Because that weakness would get Danyal killed, could get Damian killed, could get the League killed. Even the newest recruits had a stronger desire to kill than Danyal.
He was the weakest link in the chain. And while their mother had taught them to be ruthless, Danyal had remained limp with mercy.
They needed Danyal's body. It would be Danyal's tie to the earth, Constantine explained as he joined them on the Batplane. The souls of the dead don't often linger on the mortal plain. The magician had speculated that the only reason Danyal had managed to manifest in the waters below Gotham was because of Damian's presence, but his remains would keep him stable this side of life for however long it took to heal his soul.
But was that even possible?
"I don't know, kid," Constantine admitted during the plane ride. "Wish I had a better answer for you, but... Your brother is a siren now. And from the sound of it? He really wants you dead."
"Then why didn't he kill me?" Damian argued. "He had hours to do it... or minutes..." The time he spent in that green world felt longer than the ten minutes Father couldn't find him, but... "He had me in his grasp and let me go. Doesn't that mean he didn't want to-"
"Have you ever heard the phrase 'Playing with your food?'" Constantine asked instead. "Sirens aren't known for letting their prey go. If we're out here, its because he wants us here."
They--Damian, Father, Constantine, Grayson, and Todd--landed in Nanda Parbat after a few hours. There was a crypt inside for members of the Al Ghul family who didn't use the Lazarus Pits. It was there Danyal's body was entombed. They would have to steal it.
And it was unfortunate that Constantine got them caught within five minutes of entry.
Damian glared daggers at the man as they were led towards the Lazarus Pit. Constantine shrugged. "What? I don't want assassins chasing after me because of some light grave robbing! Besides, we need to explain the situation anyway-"
"And what, precisely, needs to be explained?" asked a woman from inside the chamber. The heroes were pushed inside, only to see Talia Al Ghul standing where her father should have been. The Lazarus Pit hissed and boiled behind her, casing the cave in a ghoulish light.
Damian could hear laughing.
Father stepped forward. "Talia. Where's Ra's?" Grandfather was the biggest threat to their plan succeeding.
Mother... looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "I do not know. At the present moment... the Demon Head is missing."
You could hear a pin drop. "What do you mean?" Father demanded.
"It's as I said; he is missing. Yesterday, he was alone in the Pit, and hours later, no one could find him." She glanced behind her, at the waters, before looking back at them. "I had assumed he'd left to care for the League's interests. Now-" She tilted her chin up, looking down at them. "What exactly do you need to explain? What is so important that you break into my home to tell me?"
Stepping forward, Constantine explained. Mother looked grim as he spoke of Danyal, but did not interrupt. "We want to put his soul to rest. But for that, we need access to his body-"
"You dare ask for such a thing?" Mother snarled. "As if I even believe you. My son would never-"
"Your son?" Grayson snapped. "From the looks of it, you didn't care for either of your children!"
As the group descended into an argument, Damian heard laughter again, Danyal's high pitched giggle harmonizing with something deep and bone shaking. The Lazarus Pits loomed over him, beckoning him, whispering. Damian took a step towards it as his mother said, "I don't even have his body!"
"What?" Damian snapped at his mother, focusing back on the conversation. "But the crypts-"
"After your brother's murder, the Demon Head ordered for the culprit to be found. But they were never discovered." Because the culprit was Damian, he knew, and no one else ever learned about it. "I wanted to place him in the Pits immediately, but I was ordered to stay my hand until the murderer was caught. But..."
"He never was," Damian finished for her. "And then you put Danyal into the waters?"
"Yes." She closed her eyes. "And he never came back out. Even if it was too late, he'd still come back as the undead, but he never rose from the waters."
"Then this is entirely my fault."
"Finally," Danyal whispered in his ear, breath chilling his skin.
Damian did his best to ignore it. Danyal was haunting him. Danyal needed to be put to rest. If they couldn't do it Constantine's way, then they had to put him to rest another way.
Grayson looked troubled. "Robin, it's not your fault-"
"I'm the one who killed him," Damian confessed. Everyone stared at him. Grayson, horrified; Mother, blank; Father, betrayed. Damian continued, "I overheard you and Grandfather arranging a fight to the death, and I knew who would win. I couldn't... I couldn't allow Danyal to die without the Al Ghul name, in disgrace as the one who wasn't good enough. So I killed him, assassinated him, and now he's haunting me for revenge." Damian looked at the Pit. "So go ahead, Danyal."
"Damian, what are you saying?"
"Danyal wants revenge on the person who killed him; I'm giving it to him." Todd was staring at him. Damian might not be able to see past his helmet, but he could feel the respect coming off the man. "Danyal, I know you're here. Please come out." If he focused long enough, he could just making out wheezing breaths. "I can hear you, please-"
Father grabbed Damian by the shoulders. "Damian, listen to what you're saying! You're offering your life up for nothing!"
"B's right." Grayson placed a hand on his shoulder. "There's got to be another way. You don't have to do this!"
"Yes I do!" Damian ripped himself out of Nightwing's grip. "I'm the one who killed him! I'm the one at fault! My brother is suffering because of me, I have to save him-"
Stepping between them all, Mother slapped him across the face.
And the Pit's whispers fell silent.
Damian stared up at his mother, cheek throbbing with pain. She glared back. "Cease this behavior at once," she snapped. "There's no need to get so worked up over a ghost, of all thing-"
"T̴̯̃al̵̬͂ị̴̿a̵̮̕ ̵̼͐A̴̗̕l̷͈̆ ̴͚̓G̵͎̀h̷̻͒u̶̜͋l̴͍̀."
This time, everyone could hear Danyal's voice, filled with static and corrupted. Damian swallowed as his dead brother continued,
"D̸͕͠o̶̪̅ ̸͍̆ỹ̵̗ö̸̲ũ̸̧ ̶͖̚k̶̻͊ņ̸͐o̸̹̚ẘ̸̙w̷̛̹ḧ̸͚́o̷͉̅ ̵͈̑I̶̪̽ á̵̞m̶͙̂?̸̻͂"
The cavern shook as the Lazarus Pit bucked, a wave forming in the absolute center of the water. The wave rose, pillaring up above their head and brushing the ceiling. A cold wind rushed through the room and blew out the torches on the walls, leaving only embers and the occasional florescent behind. Damian braced himself for the waters to rush out and flood.
Instead, the water fell back into the pit, like it had never risen in the first place, leaving behind a lone figure in its wake.
"Danyal," Mother whispered.
And the dead boy glared back at her with pure contempt.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 8 months
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"What do you mean their name isn't Beef?"
(for @moondal514)
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crabsnpersimmons · 1 month
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exam 5 for me... tomorrow!
honestly have been feeling really nervous for this exam since my classmates have either failed it or just barely passed. and i had less time to study this time around because i rushed to book the exam.
so i drew this little encouragement early cuz i need the reminder that no matter what happens tomorrow, i did what i could and i didn't compromise on my boundaries—and that is its own victory.
and i hope that you'll be reminded to celebrate your own big and small victories too!
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"You are nervous and that's okay! You did your best! You set boundaries! You took breaks! We're so proud of you, Starlight! Whatever happens, we'll always be here, cheering you on!"
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bugsinmyhoney · 1 year
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corazón y su hijo ^_^
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khytal · 11 months
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(siren au) 2nd encounter
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tightjeansjavi · 3 months
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the feel of coldness only water brings
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A/N: so this is the unplanned part two of this Joel drabble I wrote called wildflowers. I just woke up this morning to some lovely reblogs on it, thus inspiring this piece 🥺 oh, and I also thought of @beefrobeefcal and her beefy, fat! Joel fics that are so so good while I was writing this!
~word count: 1.6k~
Summary: you convince Joel to join you for a swim in a lake while on patrol despite his insecurities
Pairing | joel x f!reader
Warnings: implied smut, fluff, angst (so sorry) non specified age gap between Joel and the reader, body insecurities(Joel), self deprecating thoughts, real bodies, natural body changes with age etc, language, teasing, flirting, body appreciation/worship, peepaw!joel, grumpy!joel, sunshine reader, reader has no physical descriptions (outside of wearing a bra and panties) +18 minors dni!
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Sweat beads and drips down from the base of his hairline and slowly seeps into the fabric of his shirt, staining the fabric naturally. His steel toed boots stop at the water's edge, soft ripples lapping at the worn leather with a soft audible swish. The lake is crystalline, and beneath the glass surface he sees a million different rocks, all shapes and sizes and textures. The mountain air is crisp, refreshing as he inhales deeply.
The high noon sun blinds his vision momentarily, but he welcomes it. The fabric of his shirt is beginning to grow itchy, scratching at his skin from the beading perspiration. He kicks a stray rock into water, watching as it sinks into the shallow depths.
“Joel.” Your voice carries over the water, your head and shoulders bobbing like a cork in the middle of the glistening lake. “You said it yourself, there’s no infected out here, and the water is so refreshing. Won’t you join me?”
His shoulders tense beneath the fabric of his shirt, his jaw clenches, teeth grinding. He squints, bringing his hand over his forehead to block out the blinding rays, “M’fine here, darlin.’” He chuffs out, “Besides, one of us has to be on alert.” He added, rationalizing his decision.
“Is it because you can’t swim?” It was a safe assumption to make.
He shook his head, kicking another rock with the toe of his boot. “It ain’t that.”
“Okay, so you can swim? Well, then what’s the issue? C’mon, baby. You’re practically sweating right through your shirt.” You said teasingly, hoping to see the corners of his permanent set frown quirk upwards, just for you.
“It’s silly.” He wavered, eyes casting downwards to his boots. “M’just—insecure s’all. Don’t want you to uh—see me like that.” He was never the best with communicating, but he tried with you, and that’s all you could ever really ask for.
“Joel, it’s not silly. If it makes you feel any better, you can keep your clothes on? It doesn’t matter to me because I think you're handsome, and your real body isn’t gonna suddenly make me stop feeling the way I do for you.” You reassured him with a soft smile.
“If I keep my clothes on m’gonna sink like a fuckin’ rock.” He forced out a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck with a huff. “Y’say that now…” he trailed off, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. “But ‘m littered with scars, baby. Got grays on my chest and—m’barely fittin’ in my jeans these days. Should probably hold off on extra—”
“Joel.” You sighed, “I’m gonna stop you right there. Cause everything you just described to me?” You lifted your hands up from under the water in emphasis, “is a real fucking body. More importantly, it’s your body. You’re a healthy man, Joel. Your jeans ain’t fitting the same because you’re no longer in survival mode. You’re getting to indulge in a way that you weren’t able to in over 20 years. You're strong, but you're also soft in the right places.”
He doesn't believe you, of course. He would argue that it was because he had grown old and lazy like a house cat. You didn’t give him the chance, however.
“I love how soft and squishy your stomach is. You know why?”
He shook his head, feeling a flush creep up his neck and face,
“Because it acts as the perfect pillow for my head when we’re napping, and I love to grab onto your love handles when we’re cuddlin.’ Love to feel the way it presses into me when we hug. Or when you’re takin’ me from behind.”
“You’re just sayin’ that.” He scoffed.
“Am I?” You challenged him as you pulled yourself out of the water, dripping wet in just your flimsy pair of bra and panties.
“Don’t.” He warned you, taking a step to the side when you reached out to touch him. As if he was a frightened animal shying away. “M’jus’ a fat old man, darlin.’ Don’t gotta lie to me, sweetheart. I can accept the truth.” He was on the edge of snapping, nearly baring his teeth.
“Joel.” You said softly, “stop that. I ain’t have a reason to lie to you. Never have, never will.”
“You don’t have to protect my heart, darlin.’ S’okay. I ain’t deservin’ of your kindness. Don’t know why you even waste your time with a man like me—”
You looped your thumbs into the worn belt loops of his jeans and yanked him towards you swiftly despite his faint protests. “Would you shut up, please?”
Loose pebbles crunched beneath his heavy boots when you pulled him towards you and his hands naturally found your waist, big palms splayed across your damp skin. “Don’t you think you deserve yourself a real man? Someone who—isn’t like me?”
“You are a real man, Joel.” You gently remind him and slowly slip your thumbs from the belt loops of his jeans. “You’re beautiful, and I just wish you could see what I see.”
“Beautiful?” He scoffed, nose twitching when he felt your hands slowly slide up the expanse of his covered chest, “that ain’t me, sweetheart.” He rasped, tilting his chin downwards so he could watch your fingers gently toy with the buttons on his shirt.
“It is you, Joel. And one day you’ll wake up and realize it. And when that day comes, you’ll look in the mirror and tell yourself that you are beautiful, and you are loved, and you are deserving of kindness and softness for as long as Mother Nature lets me have you.”
He could feel himself slowly begin to cave from your words, tears pricking in the corner of his eyes, and he would claim that it was just from the blinding sun and the irritating sweat dripping from his brow. “Don’t know what I did to deserve you, darlin.’ Don’t think I’ll ever understand it. You could have your pick of men in Jackson, and you choose me?” He stifled a chuckle, dipping his chin down further so he could kiss the edge of your fingertips.
“You’re worth more than the whole damn bunch, Joel. Stubborn ass of a man, but I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
“Undress me.” He murmured, swallowing the lump rising in his throat, “M’yours.”
You smiled, dragging your thumb against his jaw and slowly tilted his chin upwards so your eyes could meet, “Remember, it’s just you and me out here. Nothin’ but miles and miles of wilderness.”
“Kiss me.” He whispered, tightening his grip around your hips, pulling you in closer.
Your lips brush, testing the waters before you fully kiss him. Tasting the sweat from his brow that had trickled down his lips. Soft, chapped, warm and familiar against your own.
Your fingers worked the buttons of his shirt open, exposing his skin to the warm rays from the sun. You pushed the strained fabric down his shoulders, letting the shirt fall to the pebbles below. You traced his scars with delicate movements, detaching your lips from his so you could follow the path your fingers created. You nipped at the softness of his bicep, pressing open mouthed kisses that trailed down his arm to his hand. You kissed each knuckle, each callous with your eyes staying locked on his.
You squeezed the soft plump flesh of his love handles, imagining yourself using them as an anchor when you would ride his cock in the early morning hours when neither of you could sleep.
You dragged your nose against the swell of his belly, feeling him tense up before melting into your touch like a pad of butter on a hot pan. You inhaled his musky scent, dragging your lips southwards through the dark hair of his happy trail, pressing a kiss there, too.
Your fingers moved in muscle memory as you undid his belt, tugging his too tight jeans over his hips and strong thighs, letting them pool at his ankles.
He watches your every move, brows furrowed together at the sight of you on your knees between his thighs. He hopes to god there is no danger lurking nearby. He wants this memory etched into his brain for the rest of his days.
He breathes out a strained puff of air from between his parted lips when you press the tip of your nose against the underside of his heavy cock, and the drag of your hot tongue through the strained fabric.
A groan bubbles up his throat, spilling over and he presses his hips into your face, the swell of his belly brushing against the crown of your head.
You giggle, nipping lightly at the fabric, feeling his cock twitch and harden. You watch his eyes roll back, words tumbling out in tandem.
“Do. Not. Tease. Me.” He growled and you giggled at his response.
“If you want more…you’re just gonna have to catch me!” You rose from your knees before he could grab ahold of you, stepping back with that glint in your eye.
“Hey! That ain’t fair and you know it!” He huffed, already struggling to unlace his boots so he could pull his jeans off completely. He cursed under his breath when he watched you dive back into the refreshing waters.
“Gonna get you back for this.” He grumbled to himself, fighting the urge to grin at the warmth that he felt flooding in his chest.
You heard a loud splash just as you resurfaced, and two dark brown eyes locked onto you like a target as you playfully swam away.
Your giggles and his deep, raspy laughter filled the hot summer air like a song that you would play on repeat, over and over again.
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