#bc i didn't feel like getting into that

[strangeswift]

Will had assumed —reasonably so, he thought— that a year into the actual apocalypse, birthdays wouldn't be a very big deal. Maybe a passing acknowledgement, if that. Really, it felt a little selfish to expect anything at all. 

Like, People are dead, and your friend is still in a coma. She might not wake up. Congratulations on being alive, asshole. 

Though admittedly, for Will specifically, being alive was sort of an accomplishment in itself at this point, given everything. And Will was happy to be alive. Most of the time, at least. 

He just didn't expect anyone to throw a party about it. 

It wasn’t until Will groggily descended the Wheeler's stairs and spotted the notebook paper sign strung up in the kitchen, Happy Birthday Will, distinctly in Mike’s handwriting, that Will realized they were indeed doing the birthday thing. It still felt weird, but he couldn’t help the embarrassed smile that spread across his face as everyone in the kitchen sang Happy Birthday to him. Nor could he help the hammering in his chest when Mike made his way over to him and slung his arm across his shoulders midway through the song.

All in all, the day was fairly uneventful after that. They let him have the last can of SpaghettiOs for lunch while everyone else had watery vegetable soup, which was nice. 

He didn't have to go on the supply run they had planned for the day. Actually, he would rather have gone, especially since Mike went, but Mike was oddly insistent that Will stay behind, so he did. It wasn't until after Mike returned that Will found out why he had to stay behind. 

"Can you just trust me?” Mike asked.

“I do trust you,” Will said, “It’s just that letting the clumsiest person I know lead me down stairs blindfolded is a little nerve-racking.”

“I’m not gonna let you fall. Jesus,” Mike said, exasperated, as he slowly led Will down the basement stairs, “Just three more steps.”

Once they reached the bottom, Will asked, “Can I take this off now?” gesturing to the bandana that was tied over his eyes.

Mike answered by taking it off for him, and Will blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light. Mike looked incredibly pleased with himself, and Will soon saw why.

On the coffee table, set out on a plate, were two perfectly square brownies with chocolate frosting and rainbow sprinkles on top. A lit candle was sticking out of one of them.

"Where did you get these?" Will asked in disbelief. None of them had tasted anything sweet in months. "I know damn well you didn’t get this shit at the grocery store. Or Melvald's."

Mike grinned sheepishly. "Don't worry about it."

Will frowned "You– Where did you go for this?"

“Doesn’t matter,” Mike said, “just blow out your candle!”

“Mike,” Will said, crossing his arms.

Mike sighed, "You're relentless, you know that?"

Will looked at him expectantly. 

"The gas station on the other side of town, but it’s not a big–"

"Mike!" Will scolded, "What the hell is wrong with you? You went all the way across town? That is so not safe!"

Mike shrugged. "I didn’t go alone. I had Nancy and her big ass gun to keep me company,” he said, “Besides, it was for a good cause?” he tried.

“You’re an idiot,” Will said, grinning in spite of himself.

Mike grabbed his hand, and Will tried to ignore the fluttering in his stomach as Mike led him to sit on the couch in front of the coffee table.

Once they were sitting, Mike dropped his hand, but he stayed close. He knocked their knees together. “Go on. Make a wish,” he said quietly.

Will shook his head, searching Mike’s eyes. “I don’t have one,” he said.

Mike cocked his head. “There’s nothing you want?” he asked, a teasing smirk on his face.

Oh. Well, Will could think of one thing.

“I mean, maybe,” Will said, averting his eyes, “It’s stupid, though.”

“If it’s what you want, it’s not stupid,” Mike said firmly.

“Well, it’s embarrassing,” Will amended, flicking his eyes back to Mike, who leaned in, ever so slightly.

“I’m sure it’s not,” Mike said, “But you don’t have to tell me, anyway. Actually, you can’t tell me. If you do then it won’t come true.”

Will huffed a laugh. “I wouldn’t tell you anyway.”

"Fine," Mike said, "blow out your candle, make your secret wish."

Will laughed and leaned forward, blowing carefully on the candle and watching the small flame flicker and fade into a wisp of smoke.

"Think it'll come true?" Mike asked.

"I don't– I mean, probably not," Will said, "I'm still not telling you, though."

“Really?” Mike asked, pouting. “Can I guess? I think if I guess it, the wish is still valid.”

“I think you’re just making up wish rules now,” Will teased.

“Maybe,” Mike conceded. “Can I guess anyway?” he asked, leaning even closer – and god, he had no idea what he was doing to Will, did he?

Will raised his eyebrows. “You have guesses?”

“I have one,” Mike said.

It was a bad idea, Will thought, to let Mike guess. A very bad idea.

“Please, share,” Will said.

"Okay..." Mike said nervously, "Yeah, okay." His cheeks went a little pink, and he flicked his gaze down to Will’s lips. Or– No, that was probably… Wishful thinking. 

“God, I hope I’m right about this,” Mike breathed, and he leaned in even closer, so close their noses were almost touching. Will watched with wide eyes as Mike brought shaky hands up to cup his jaw.

Mike let out a breath, and Will could feel it on his lips. 

Mike closed his eyes, pressed forward, and kissed him.

Kissing Mike was nothing like Will expected it to be. It was soft and slow, and Will wanted to melt into it. He wanted to stay in the moment forever. If Vecna did come for him, that was the happy thought he would run to. He wouldn't even need music, just the memory of Mike's lips against his – that would be enough. 

Mike pulled back, and Will resisted the urge to chase him.

"Did I guess right?" Mike asked breathlessly, letting his hands slide down to rest gently on the sides of Will's neck.

"What?" Will asked, dazed. 

"Your wish," Mike said.

"Oh," Will said. "Yeah. That was– Yeah."

Mike beamed. "Cool," he said.

"Cool," Will repeated, a smirk playing at his lips.

Mike leaned back. "Now eat your birthday cake," he instructed. 

Will picked up one of the brownies. "These are gas station brownies," he pointed out.

"Birthday cake," Mike insisted. 

Will took a bite. It was heavenly. 

"Oh my god," he groaned, "I've missed sugar."

Mike picked up the other brownie, taking a bite. "Oh. Wow, yeah. Holy shit," he said, taking another bite. 

"It's so good," Will said, laughing giddily. He popped the last bite in his mouth.

Mike smiled warmly. "Happy birthday, Will."

"Thanks," Will said, "but if you ever risk your life for brownies again–"

"Oh come on," Mike said, "Cut me some slack. I was romancing you."

Will's eyes went wide. "You– What?" he squeaked. 

Mike flushed. "I mean– Whatever."

Will burst out laughing, and Mike couldn't help but join him. Somehow, Will felt years worth of tension dissolving as he laughed so hard tears began to form.

After a couple of minutes, they settled into comfortable silence, grinning at each other. "I want to kiss you again," Mike announced.

"Well, if that’s what you want," Will said, leaning in.

And for a little while, nothing else mattered. Just Mike, who was warm and tasted like chocolate, who was romancing him with stolen brownies and kissing him like he needed it.

It was a good birthday. 

#ok so. this does not fit the byler week prompt bc it is not birthdaygate or any gate #but this is what i wanted to write so here it is ! #i also just ignored the whole birthdaygate thing so. in this universe mike did Not forget will's birthday last year #bc i didn't feel like getting into that #anyway. apocalyptic birthday fluff!! #getting together!! yay!! #byler #abby writes

[inkskinned]

you're in the habit of denying yourself things.

if someone asked you directly, you would say that you love a little treat. you like iced coffee and getting the cookie. you drink juice out of a fancy cup sometimes, and often do use your candles until they gutter out helplessly.

but you hesitate about buying the 20 dollar hand mixer because, like. you could just use your arms. you weren't raised rich. you don't get to just spend the 20 dollars (remember when that could cover lunch?), at least - you don't spend that without agonizing over it first, trying to figure out the cost-benefits like you are defending yourself in front of a jury. yes, this rice cooker could seriously help you. but you do know how to make stovetop rice and it really isn't that hard. how many pies or brownies would you actually make, in order to make that hand mixer worthwhile?

what's wild is that if the money was for a friend, it would already be spent. you'd fork over 40 without blinking an eye, just to make them happy. the difference is that it's for you, so you need to justify it.

and it sneaks in. you ration yourself without meaning to - you don't finish the pint of ice cream, even though you want to. the next time you go to the store, you say ah, i really shouldn't, and then you walk away. you save little bits of your precious things - just in case. sometimes you even go so far as putting that one thing in your shopping cart. and then just leaving it there, because maybe-one-day, but not right now, there's other stuff going on.

you do self-care, of course. but you don't do it more than like, 3 days in a row. after that it just feels a little bit over-the-edge. like. you can't live in decadence, the economy is so bad right now, kid.

so you don't buy the rice cooker. you can-and-will spend the time over the stove. you can withstand the little sorrows. denial and discipline are practically synonyms. and you're not spoiled.

it's just - it's not always a rice cooker. sometimes it is a person or a job or a hug. sometimes it is asking for help. sometimes it is the summer and your college degree. sometimes it is looking down at scabbed knees and feeling a strange kind of falling, like you can't even recognize the girl you used to be. sometimes it is your handprint looking unsteady.

sometimes it is tuesday, and you didn't get fired, and you want to celebrate. but what is it you like, even? you search around your little heart and come up empty. you're so used to denying that all your desires draw a blank.

oh fuck. see, this is the perfect opportunity. if you had a mixer, you'd make a cake.

#warm up #this isn't good #writeblr #this is complicated by the fact i can't stand up too long or i fuckken pass out and <3 hit my damn head <3 #but i did take a deep breath and buy myself the stupid rice cooker #and!!! a very cheap sushi kit!!! i have been wanting to try making sushi for literally YEARS #the kit was only like 15 dollars!!!! and i haven't purchased it bc?!!??!?!?!?!!? #..... i didn't get the mixer tho that felt. like a lot. like too much. #on my list is a kitchenaid. one day when i get a check and i have paid off my student debt #and medical debt #i will put that first little bit of cash #into a kitchenaid 5qt stand mixer (with attachments) #i really do just go into their refurbished section and stare lustily at each option #but yeah i feel guilty about the rice cooker even tho i know for a fact this damn thing is gonna be a lifesaver #oh shit also fuck i forgot to mention . poached eggs

[confessedlyfannish]

Writing Prompt #12

Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.

Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.

Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.

While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.

These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".

There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—

"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.

But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.

He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.

"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.

"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.

"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.

He doesn't look away from the man.

"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."

"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.

The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.

The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"

Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."

"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."

He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.

"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.

"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.

"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."

"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.

"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."

"Him."

"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."

"Why me?"

"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."

This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.

"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"

"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."

Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."

"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."

"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."

"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."

"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."

"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.

"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.

"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."

"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."

"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."

Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.

Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.

"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."

The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.

"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.

"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."

"I have more than one."

"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."

"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"

There is a pause.

"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."

"Resolve what?"

"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."

"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."

Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."

The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."

"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."

"They will have already muzzled him."

Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.

"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."

"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—

Clack!

"sluuuuurp!"

"Master Timothy, honestly!"

"Sorry Alfred!"

#i feel like I'm going to reread this and want to add other stuff #but I also just want to post it and get it out there #fun fact i scribbled a bunch of lines down at 2am bc i didn't want to forget them #im bad at multiple drafts #my writing #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #batman #i live to make everybody dramatic #but also i subscribe to a world where clockwork doesn't know how NOT to be dramatic #lol he's a ghost from all of time he doesn't know how to speak to humans and tailor it to the century let alone the decade #and his favorite little girl who calls him clocky loves how he speaks so #he doesn't need to change for nobody #nor feels inclined to #also I feel like as god he's way more inclined to threaten to get what he wants than like...be vulnerable #jazz: let's unpack that #clockwork: we never do #jazz: are you saying that because it's true or because that's what you want to be true? #clockwork: ... #also I cannot take credit for BITCH I MIGHTWING #wish i could #that is cash money right there #shoutout to 11thsense

[ineed-to-sleep]

Blacked out in front of my tablet and woke up with sketches of my Touchstarved mc + Kuras my beloved. woops

#I found out dr. kuras is 6'6 I said hold on lemme get a stool so I can climb this man #touchstarved #touchstarved game #touchstarved kuras #kuras #sleepyscribble #oc.emma #my mc is meant to be a self insert but also like. I wanted to come up w a design and character arc and everything jkvkvk #so I ended up basing her on my personality/looks but taking her into a direction that would fit the game #she's like. me but 'characterized' and a bit exaggerated for the sake of being a character yk #the way she turned out is that she's basically a friendly happy go lucky mage who laughs at her own misery but hides #a deep layer of self loathing underneath all that bc of her curse #having been cursed all her life she believes she's a monster and the sunny personality is a way for her to 'make up for it' #but at the same time she feels like a farse. like she's only luring ppl in to an inevitable demise #and she thinks she's selfish bc despite knowing the danger she poses she still goes out there and puts herself among ppl #bc she craves human connection. even tho she feels guilty for 'indulging' in it #anyway I love the cursed mc concept in this game <3 it's been really interesting to think abt how that would affect someone #also I kept her physical features looking pretty much like mine #bc I wanted to draw myself in a cute way. teehee #but the clothing I was basically thinking like. early game simple clothing that she didn't rlly pick for herself #and maybe later I can have an updated design w something she would actually pick for herself

[lotus-pear]

got around to fully coloring two of the requests yippee‼️

#if i didn't do urs it's not bc i hate u it's prob bc i sketched it out and wanted to color it later bc i wasn't feeling up to it😭😭 #what im getting from this is we all just want chuuya to wear a tie #having a fav blorbo and being an artist is so fun u get to play dress up and do their hair like they're a little doll #sobbing into my hands asigiri why didn't u keep the beta design he was so skrunkly babygirl #ANYWAY he looks so cute in lighter colors ik hes a mafia exec but can we all collectively have a moment of silence for light academia chuuya #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd #chuuya nakahara #nakahara chuuya #lotus draws

[nataliescatorccio]

i hate what bingeing culture has turned the consumption of media into. the pressure to watch everything all at once as soon as it drops otherwise you simply can't go onto social media or 'it's your own fault, you should know better!', the way it forms a dread around shows you know you can't watch straight away because of life commitments when you should be excited for them, and the way buzz only lasts for a few days before inevitably, everyone moves on and forgets about it. i just wish i could return to the excitement of weekly releases that kept me guessing for months on end and fostered a discussion around media

#i'm just.. feeling a certain way today #as we get closer to tua releasing this week i should be excited but instead i'm just like #great i have no time to watch it (bc they're dropping it on a weekday like wtf???) #and i will inevitably get spoiled in the time it takes me to watch #and it's just SO annoying #i want to be excited but this release and consume content immediately has taken the fun out of media for me #anyway i'll stop rambling #i'm just v tired and in my feelings #1k #didn't expect this to take off but i'm glad it resonates with so many people!!! #thanks for coming to my ted talk

[chaotic-carnifex]

No hold on I'm gonna make an extra post about this:

I wouldn't choose to be alloromantic

If I were given the choice to either remain aro or become alloro again, I would choose aromanticism.

And I think a lot of people need to hear that.

#aro #aromantic #actually aromantic #safeforaro #alloromantics are encouraged to reblog this #aros aren't the only ones who need to hear that our orientation isn't a consolation prize #too many ppl - both aro-specs and alloros - think that being aro is okay only bc it's not something we choose #with the implicit belief that if we COULD choose then OF COURSE we'd choose to be alloro #bc it's clearly the 'superior' option #and honestly? it's not. #they're equally valid options and which one is 'superior' depends entirely on your own needs and preferences #and my preference is *being aro* #so if you're aro and you feel like yeah sure it's OKAY that you're aro bc you DIDN'T choose this #but if you could you WOULD choose to be alloro? #well maybe being alloro really would be better for you. or maybe it's just internalized amatonormativity. #and I cannot answer for you which one it is - the only one who can is you #all I can do is raise you the OPTION that it might be amatonormativity and then leave you to consider it #so this is for the aros who need to hear that option #and for the alloros who pity us for supposedly getting the short end of the stick #we are not a tragedy

[svnflowermoon]

hey btw before you start being angry at the 10 year old sephora kids and the ipad kids, remember that we should feel bad for them. because the world has failed them. it is not these kids faults that the world is so focused on materialistic things and that their parents don't know how to talk to them. that is the fault of social media and bad parenting. i said what i said.

#luc posts #like i genuinely feel so bad for the ipad and sephora kids bc they just... didn't get on childhood #they were raised on false beauty standards and having a screen shoved in their faces & i think that we as a society need to reflect on that #like i am quite serious when i say that it is unrestricted internet access and generational trauma that have caused this #seeing those seven year old girls doing their skincare and mascara makes me want to cry bc how did we fail them this bad??? #they should be having a childhood but they're being forced to grow up too soon #im saying all this as a sixteen year old it would genuinely be better if young kids and teenagers weren't exposed to the toxicity of insta+ #+and other social media bc it does NOTHING but put bad ideas in their heads and give them bad self esteem

[glumspell]

My biggest hope for the Mighty Nein animated series is that they capture the tone correctly and don't use the same tone for TMN that they used for TLOVM.

I thought the tone in TLOVM was great for Vox Machina, it was littered with Scanlan style adult humor that suited the adult-style comedy/drama very well but I dont think that exact same tone would work well for the Mighty Nein.

Even though TMN had dirty humor, I think it's style of humor was different than TLOVM. Sex scene cut-aways and projectile vomiting, over the top gore and poop humor throwaway gags I don't think would hit the way for TMN as it does in TLOVM even though it exists in TMN.

I think that in the way that TLOVM is framed around Scanlan style humor, I think TMN is framed around Jester humor- which is still dirty, but sillier and a bit more naive and familiar that fits the mature tone of TMN much better than the throwaway humor of TLOVM.

And i'm sure TMN will be gore-y too but sometimes the gore in TLOVM was over the top in a way that detracted from some of the major villain deaths and made them less impactful when compared to some disposable npc whose skull gets exploded in a few scenes prior. What I mean is that I hope it's gore-y where it counts. Like Caleb crushing the guards while storming the sanitarium in rage and vengeance is not as impactful if everyone dies in a similar fashion all the time, if you know what I mean?

#critical role #tmn #tmna #the legends of vox machina #the mighty nein #the mighty nein animated #tlovm #sometimes i feel that too much gore makes characters seem disposable? if that makes sense? like you never get attached to npcs bc it feels #less like characters and more like meat waiting to be torn apart in gruesome ways. Archie had this problem in season 1 I feel. #his sacrifice didn't feel impactful at all. he felt like a throwaway and part of that i feel is because his death didnt feel unique #I think too much gore also starts to feel less realistic in a setting. it feels fine for TLOVM bc I think TLOVM plays with tropes in a way #that works for them and their characters but wont always work for the style of TMN

[chococrystal]

Made for @ammo0648 's DTIYS !! Congrats !!

#ammo600dtiys #ninjago #lego ninjago #urghh i hope i did ur dtiys justice aaghh #cole ninjago #cole brookstone #shroomart #ur prompt made me feel so many emotions and i thought cole would also be going through a surge of emotions raarr #Also i interpreted this as the moment either he lands into the afterlife and sees lily OR the moment right before he gets sent back #I HOPE THATS OKAY AAAA #like a bittersweet smile thing #bc either moment he still just wants to stay with her and stay dead like #THE ANGST MAN #ALSO i didn't even realize i didn't follow u here on tumblr !! even tho i follow u everywhere else raaaa #fixed that hehe #congrats again !!

[adamsrcnan]

I'm getting a little teary eyed thinking about how, because of Neil, Andrew gets to experience a soft and gentle love where all his boundaries and traumas are respected. I think it says so much that Neil was basically raised on the run by a mother who ensured he only ever looked out for himself, and his own needs, and yet Neil doesn't ever once think about crossing Andrew's boundaries.

He creates such a safe space for Andrew that eventually he doesn't even have to ask Andrew for permission to touch him bc Andrew is comfortable and secure enough to allow it because he KNOWS Neil will never harm him. Neil provides an outlet for all of Andrew's love to spill out freely without him ever having to worry and i find that so goddamn beautiful.

Like i don't think Andrew probably ever thought he'd get to a point in his life where he'd be living in domestic bliss with a lover and pets. Yet Neil stumbled into his life and gave that to him. He gave him safety, and trust, and comfort. Neil gave Andrew a quiet after the storm he probably thought would never leave him!!!

#was just thinking about neil getting andrew off the first time and how nora said his hands were tembling #but andrew didn't know if it was restrained murder or relief #well i choose to believe it was relief!!! #relief bc andrew made it through something that made him vulnerable #relief that he was okay #relief that Neil helped him experience something he never thought he could have #like i find it overwhelming just thinking about it #i can't imagine how something like that FEELS #neil loves him so beautifully !!!!! #andrew minyard #neil josten #andreil #all for the game #aftg #the foxhole court #tfc

[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?

#like imagine if i asked you ab your fav character and then i said i hated them and proceeded to insult them #wouldn't that irritate you even just a bit and maybe even come to their defense? #like why would you be offended when they're not even real lmaoo #they're fictional and won't get offended but if you love that character then YOU might feel offended and maybe even defend them #ok now take that situation and put it into this context #except it's much more meaningful bc it's about representation #just a random thought #i'm not against shipping him or finding him attractive (bc same LMAO) or the fanart btw #i just hate it when people use bs excuses to justify their obvious dismissal & indifference towards aro/ace rep #like at least acknowledge his identity :(( #sorry for the long ass rant and if some parts don't make sense i'm not in the best mood rn lol #and i've been wanting to get this off my chest for a while #didn't know double standards were a thing when it came to representation.... #but here we are #alastor #aroace alastor #aroace #asexual #aromantic #asexuality #aromanticism #arospec #aspec #alastor hazbin hotel #aromantic alastor #asexual alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #aroacespec #queer

[kerryweaverlesbian]

Dean Winchester of Supernatural fame is NOT reading parenting books he is putting on Cheaper By The Dozen, Daddy Daycare and Honey I Shrunk The Kids taking notes.

#i woulda said full house but dean's more a movie guy than a tv guy #it doesn't help. btw. lol. #if dean read a gentle parenting guide he would scoff and roll his eyes and throw it across the room #and eventually start silently weeping if he was convinced to keep going bc HE was a kid and HE didn't get treated with respect or gentlenes #dean in an argument with those mommy bloggers he follows saying something like 'please. i was left in a motel room with my brother #from like age 7 upwards I think little Timmy will be okay in the car by himself for 3 minutes 🙄“ #and someone hits him with 'I'm so sorry that happened to you' and he tries to brush it off all day and complain about it to Sam #and Sam's like. yeah it was kinda fucked up though. and Dean's like WELL I KNOW THAT BUT HE WAS DOING HIS BEST #(not fully believing it bc he certainly can't picture leaving a 7 year old alone in the world they live in no matter what) #(and Dean's never fully actually agreed with their dad but he feels attacked by Sam's agreeing) #(but old habits run deep) #cawis creates

[ineed-to-sleep]

So I've had this wip sitting in my folders for months now and decided to ressurect it to satiate the urge to draw these two again

#I actually finished a wip after abandoning it for so long alright iconic moment for me personally #this is them in the cab coming back from the warrens after getting their asses handed to them by all the szlachta #she handled herself a lil better but vincent is squishy and almost died like. 10 times #vtm #vtmb #the fledgling #brujah #oc.vince #oc.pepper #ship: viper #sleepyscribble #she looks a lil sad bc yk she nearly lost the dude and she starts realizing she liiikes hiiiiiim teehee #she legit doesn't know what she would do if she rlly lost him #but she doesn't think she's in love ofc ofc it's just that yk he's the only person she really feels like she can trust #and the only one she feels really good around and who she feels she could tell anything to #and tbh she hasn't felt this way with anyone else in a long long time even before she became undead and had to deal w the other kindred #but that's normal for a friendship yk this is just a really strong friendship why ruin it with romance right that's stupid #no she wasn't watching him take his shirt off with her eyes almost popping out of her skull the other day shhh that didn't happen #she doesn't even remember he has freckles on his back and a scar on his shoulder. the left one. she doesn't remember she wasn't even lookin #ANYWAY no lust no feelings she's fine don't worry abt it 👍🏻

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

#sorry i got really into my feelings about mark hoffman again #the very specific version of him in my brain that i really really wish i had the time and energy to properly share with you guys #saw #well until i muster the energy to explode all of my feelings out into a fic. if you want to TRY and understand #know that my three biggest hoffman fic insps right now are as follows #your best kept secret hoffman. a series of mistakes hoffman. and rushed like a dreadful wind hoffman. #there is a very clear throughline just know i am extremely emotionally compromised rn #thinking about theee fics vs the canon path hoffman spirals down #something something the absolute tragedy of watching a man's descent into madness #the transformation of a man into a monster #and what could have saved him from himself and kramer's corruption #sorry i'm rambling so much oh my god i was just having such a crying fit out of nowhere about this #do you think he could feel it happening. do you think he was aware he was losing his mind. #the script version of him fucks with me so bad. the crazed rankings and the longer hair and him not being well kept anymore #it's impossible to think he didn't know he was deteriorating #fuuuck okay i need to either chill or write a whole longfic rn #i project on that guy so much i truly don't know if i could properly write my vision of him #until i do something more substantial the full extent of my hoffman exists for me and my boyfriend only. they get me like no one else #well ginny and jenna also get me. please read best kept secret and a series of mistakes Oh My God #where am i going with this. i like tag rambling actually this is a nice way to do it without forcing EVERYONE to read my delirium #anyways if you've read all of this i think i love you? feel free to dm me about hoffman and my very specific headcanons and aus #maybe soon i'll try and start writing my fics about this tragic man #i could never say any of this on twitter btw they'd string me up for my opinions on him as a sad wet beast who could have been fixed #if only he hadn't been weaponized first #god i'm too tired to even be as embarrassed about this as i should be. thought i unlearned cringe already #but i've been spending way too much time on twitter and they HAAATE hoffman there #rip. i know it's not that serious but i'm sensitive rn and hate feeling lonely in my thoughts #ok bye for real otherwise i'll never shut up. i might tag ramble more often bc this was therapeutic in a way i needed badly #cat chat

[inkskinned]

this is sort of pathetic, but when you were younger, you were sort of puzzled by the cartoon representations of fathers: how a kid would be outside with a mitt, waiting to play catch.

it's not that your father never played catch with you, but you also didn't like when he did. something about a hard ball coming quickly towards your face doesn't seem exciting. not that you'd ever say you don't trust him. you trust him, right?

it's not like he never tried to teach you anything. or never tried to parent. on rare days, a strange person would walk in your father's skin. bright, happy, magnificent. this version of your father was so cheerful and charismatic that you would do anything to keep him. and this is the version of your father that would laugh and gently coax you try again. this is the version of your father that would break down the small elements of a problem and point them out so you have an easier time with them.

as a kid, those days happened more often. but somewhere around 11, you started being too much of a person, and he was often cross about it. when he'd try to sit you down to learn something, you spent the whole time with your shoulders around your ears, nervous, uncertain. terrified because you didn't immediately understand how to navigate something. worried you will run out of his goodwill and then you will have the Other Father back, and you will have ruined a good day for your entire family. something about you being visibly afraid - it just made him angry. he would accuse you of not wanting to learn and storm away.

on tv, it's not like there's a lot of versions of men-who-are-mostly-fathers. they can be good dads, but usually their stories are not told in the household. so it's normal that your father is there, but he's never around. you know he was in the house, somewhere, it's just not that you guys ever... "hung out". he just seemed to get kind of bored of you, annoyed you weren't made in his perfect image. frustrated with how much energy it took to raise a kid. over time, you kind of adopt a bittersweet band around your throat - he knows nothing about me. he says at least i never abandoned my family.

and it's technically - technically - true. he was there for you. sometimes he even made an effort and made it to the big moments; the graduations and the dance recitals. he grins and tells everyone that he taught you. it almost erases the days in between, where he complains because you need a ride to school. the weeks that go by where he doesn't actually ever speak to you. the times you say i am struggling and he says figure it out on your own. i can't help you.

and that's fine! that's all fine. you can call him if you are having a problem with your car. or if you need a ride to the hospital. he loves playing hero, he just doesn't like the actual work that comes with being a father. and you've kind of made your peace with that; because you had to, because you don't want to live your life like he does; the whole world at a managed distance, a little rotating and controlled orb he can witness and take credit for but never truly love.

as an adult, you are rewatching some dumb cartoon - and again, the child standing in the rain, with a mitt, waiting for their father to come play catch. as an adult, there's this strange creeping dread - this little thing? this little thing, and their dad can't even show up for that? oh god, holyshit, it's not about the mitt, is it. oh god, holyshit, your father spent most of your life leaving you hanging.

#spilled ink #writeblr #:) lol . anybody notice how i write about dads in second person exclusively #me: haha silly cartoon #also me: ): this child is not getting what they need #also btw this is about a father but it might apply to any parent or caregiver #there's a really weird space of like #''this person was technically around me but either ignored me or was actively harmful to me'' #and like u learn this very strange ritual of like... this person is my parent/caregiver on a technicality #that you almost spend all ur time with them like... tiptoeing and acting as THEIR parent so u don't upset them. #like you're 17 and ur mom is suddenly hit by a wave of wanting to talk to you so she's like :) lets make breakfast together :) and ur like #uhhhhhh okay?? bc you feel like this is absolutely going to go wrong and is why u usually make breakfast alone #and she starts being like: THIS is called a TEASPOON ... & u know all this stuff but you also know to just be very quiet #bc if you say like ''mom ive been making this breakfast every day since i was 13'' she would FREAK OUT and be like #DONT ACT LIKE I NEVER DO ANYTHING FOR YOU DONT ACT LIKE I DONT CARE ABOUT YOU. FUCKING DISRESPECTFUL . #so u have to smile like ur a preschool teacher and be like. OH COOL! i didn't know A CUP existed! tell me MORE! :)