#my reading comprehension is absolutely terrible

[acnara]

I once again fear I have to remind ppl that Neville would have never been "the chosen one" because he, for one, would have had to be CHOSEN and he WASN'T. So he isn't, and could have NEVER been THE chosen one.

Point number 2: Harry the one and only person who could be the chosen one because A) as stated before, he is the only one who was CHOSEN by V and B) he is the only one with a mother that Snape would have ever stepped up to Voldemort for, giving said mother the chance to protect their kid in The way Lily did.

PLEASE let this rest I'm tired of people spitting the coldest takes known to man about The Prophecy goddamn

#tiktok fans are getting on my nerves again don't mind me sigh #the chosen one only exists bc SNAPE was close enough to Voldemort to make the big bad ask LILY to stand down #like. please. the one and only thing that's actually very nicely tied down on HPs plot. use your eyes rub ur braincells and read #i cannot deal woth another ACTUALLY ☝️☺️ neville is/could have been the chosen one discourse #I've done my time fought my battles I'm gonna need ppl to ve serious #the clock app is where basic reading comprehension goes to die ❤️ #the fact that i can be subjected to a self-righteous 15 y/o's opinion at any moment in time on my lunch break should be illegal #i just wanted to see HP edits with the albatross song and suddenly im bing bombarded with terrible takes based on absolutely nothing #whatttt did i dooooo to deserve thisssssss

[nothorses]

"the public education system is intently evil and all teachers are abusive because it was the worst experience ever for me personally"

guys, look, I'm legitimately sorry that happened to you. that's fucked up. it shouldn't have happened, and it shouldn't be allowed to happen again to you or anyone else. I'm sorry.

public school was hard for me too, at times, and I'm still suffering the consequences for the harsh grading, the arbitrary deadlines, the hours of completely useless-to-me homework. I could name a few teachers who have been pretty fucking terrible. the fact that nobody considered getting me evaluated for ADHD has had an impact on my self image and academic success that I can't erase.

and also.

I grew up in an area where education, in particular, is incredibly progressive-leaning. educators are working really hard to create and try out education philosophies and practices that prioritize kids and their learning, rather than teachers and what they think kids should learn.

My sex ed was comprehensive, and came entirely from school. My gay sixth grade teacher taught me about HIV/AIDs in a useful, accurate way. In high school, I learned about the way orgasms work & I was prepared not to feel shame for normal stuff.

I learned that Communism was not what the USSR actually practiced, and what it really means. I learned about atrocities and, specifically, the genocide of indigenous people committed in/by the US. I learned about the military industrial complex, the school-to-prison pipeline, and I learned about manifestations of racism specific to my local area. I learned about Stonewall, and the intersection of the civil rights movement with gay rights and disability justice.

My creative writing teacher taught us about LSD, and the real reasons we shouldn't do it, after a hilariously ineffective assembly run by some local cops. He spoke gently, carefully, and emphatically about his friends and his own experiences. Later in the semester, he read us a story he wrote about two gay men finding each other in a deeply homophobic environment.

My sci-fi teacher made me feel safe & seen as a kid with "weird" interests. My US History teacher helped me research and put together a 10-page paper on the modern relevance and mission of Feminism. My government teacher made me feel appreciated for the work I put into the class, and the thought I put into what I said in it, even though he disagreed with a lot of it. My sixth grade teacher bought me books to read with his personal money, whichever ones I asked for. My third grade teacher made me feel safe. My science teacher in middle school made me excited for and passionate about science, and saw and nurtured the effort I put into her class.

A lot of stuff sucks, absolutely. But I am seeing new teaching methods being tried out all the time, and I am watching teachers get really excited when I teach their students about the roots of modern graffiti in US black history & to question property laws, and just...

There's hope. there are so many people doing so much work to make things better. so many people agree with you on what education should be, and are trying so fucking hard to put that into action, and so many public schools- not just teachers, but whole schools and even districts- are really doing that work. so much is getting better.

I had more to say, about necessary childcare and trusted adults and outside contacts and time away from abusive family. But like. Please just sit down and listen to more people on this, and please talk to educators and education professionals about what's really going on in this big huge world of philosophy, science, and practice.

#education

[nouvxllev]

"When I saw you

I fell in love, and

you smiled

because you knew

-William Shakespeare"

LOVE.LOVE.LOVE.

I wanted to make a request! I had a similar interaction like this, and when I had read this, I fell inloveeeeee with this qoute sm. Can you do a Wednesday x Reader? In which it's Wednesday who actually falls inlove 😭

amore, amore, amore.

Pairing: Author!Wednesday Addams x Gn!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 6.0k (oh what the fuck)

Warnings: told in WEDNESDAYS POV AND ALTERNATE TIMELINES!, the gomezification of wednesday addams prevails, yes they meet at a museum, also kinda 7 husbands of evelyn hugo coded, slight plottwist at the end!

a/n: aaaa ofc ofc!! also i absolutely love the idea where wednesday fell first and harder

masterlist

I believe they cursed me the moment their lips became something worth fighting for.

"If they intend to halt my publishing, then so be it. I have no interest in entertaining that brain-dead company over countless of reasons as to why I shouldn't spare a few weeks for myself who believe I will fall under their will."

"Wednesday, they're the ones who publish your books, you just can't ignore their calls."

"Barclay, has your brain deteriorated to a degree in such a way that you are forgetting it's my presence that upholds that fucking company? Without me, they are nothing. Have you forgotten with how much power I withhold over them, or have your scales reached that hollow of a brain?"

"You can't ignore the leverage they have over you, sure you have the amount of money, if not more, to sue them, but they could literally tip you off and brand you as some selfish author."

"Please do comprehensively explain to me as to why I would be a selfish author?"

"Wednesday Friday fucking Addams, it's because you're half-way across the fucking world at some fucking museum in Italy while you have a manuscript due a fucking week ago!"

"I fail to see my fault."

"Addams, if you don't get your shit together, I swear—"

I had solved countless of murders in my time of Nevermore. I had one thing to do when I finally left, and I was going to succeed.

If you had told me after I willingly left that horrid place you call an educating institution that I would experience the same fate as an author, I would've traced the outer skin of your face with a pocket knife and display it on your family's doorstep.

Barclay, amongst others, remained someone I held close. She could be infuriating, but no one would ever be much deserving of a terrible, terrible position than be under my control as my manager when I pursued writing.

But no one tells you how people could easily forget you in a matter of seconds if you don't make a name for yourself when you've put yourself out there, even if it's something far, far from your own.

I was only fortunate enough people enjoyed what I publish.

I couldn't care less if they didn't, that's why I found it hard to give two shits about what that damned company thought of my revised schedule. But I needed to make a living. To make something out of myself.

If I had continued my actions— in which I have full control over with—I could lose everything.

I could've build it up from scratch if it happened, but Lucifer knows how long would a simple idea for a plot that could get into the lack of attention span of the population could take.

I could lose the name I print on paper.

I could lose my name.

And then I realized I haven't.

There was something that I was destined to fall under. It was there with my eyes taped to a painting, not knowing I became one for another.

I hung up. The mere thought of having a multistep plan to eventually murder my manager was between God and me. That woman had me teetering on the edge of becoming a one-hit serial killer overnight.

My head tilted over a large painting towering amidst the others down the line. My hands remained tucked deep within the pockets of a trench coat far too oversized for me.

I couldn't take much time of squinting, staring as if it had garnered my interest not after a dreaded phone call that I convinced myself truly took my energy and managed to inject anesthesia inside my veins.

A light sway became evident in my steps, as if I was sulking in my own woe of what I should and could've done to prevent myself fucking it up on a company that I could soon own if not me being under the age of what is required to own a firm without having to ring up my own godforsaken of a family.

I could almost take another step if I wasn't met with another person.

Countless of papers flew across the hard-tiled floor. It was over before I knew what had happened. I found myself standing there, eyes glued to the person I collided with, my eyebrows crossed and my mouth hung open like a fool.

"I'm—I'm so sorry, fuck." They grit under their breath, like they were berating themselves while they picked up the rest of what had fell.

I stood there, not knowing what to do or what not to do but stare at them and wait for them to pull themselves up.

And so that's what I did.

I wish I hadn't.

Because now it was the time I was unable to speak. Unable to use the words I've been writing my novels with, the words that I should've spoken in the seconds they had landed in front of me. For the first time, my words had failed me.

A question rang in my head, Why do I now feel as if I do not belong inside of my own body? Why does my life feel complete now that they were here?

When Y/n fixed herself, she looked at me and smiled. I knew I looked like an idiot staring at them, yet I never went out of my way to barely fix myself.

Why were they smiling?

"Why are you smiling?" I asked under my breath, like I was taken breathless. I hadn't mean to say it out loud, but my cold and otherwise damned heart seemed to be alive, like I was suffocating in my own rate. A fool in front of them I must've been.

They looked at their paper, then they looked at me.

They smiled yet again. Another question flicked across my head, what had happened to me to act as if I would go through hell and back for this person?

They smiled at me as if my presence gave them a reason to. And they loved me in every one of it.  

"Sorry—" they apologized, noticing how their thumb kept grazing the surface of their sketch, almost as if they were nervous. "You look prettier than... whatever I drew."

They stole one more look of me.

"Terrifyingly bewitching."

It's horrifying knowing I couldn't explain what I felt that day. What I know is—I felt everything.

I've endured endless remarks on my appearance ranging from a number of ratings from those nonsensical people on the internet to every synonym people have thrown my way only to fail to evoke even a flicker of emotion.

Though it seems egotistical, I knew they held one intention: they wanted to impress me. They wanted me to know they were different amongst others who have approached me. They wanted to entice me, as if I could be owned.

Were it not for the arsenal and threats I carried, there would be much more.

Y/n was different. They never had any intentions of being with me, no desire to impress or claim me as theirs. They simply wanted me to know I was. That it was true. I just had never heard it from someone who could mutter two words that felt perfect.

And it's much more terrifying knowing I unexpectedly fell first, even if I deny myself.

I could tell you about the way y/n smiled, how it seemed to threaten the sun, warning it not to shine lest it risk embarrassment in contrast of hers. I could tell you the way their eyes followed their smile, how their life was encapsulated in their drawings, mirroring what they felt.

Yet, when it comes to explaining how I fell for them, words escape me. Even I, a tortured author, struggle to describe.

How must I convey the sensation of my heart pounding in my ears as if it was trying to break me? The ache in my stomach, churning every chance it got, every fiber of my being dreadfully surrendering to them.

But one is for certain: meeting them was like coming home.

My home.

But I couldn't bring myself to realize that—It was antagonizing for me. Humiliating and mortifying knowing one person could make me become a total fool, become someone I've never thought I'd be.

I've spent my whole life after hiding what I felt for them, lest I risk experiencing what I truly loathe: love.

I despised them ever since I met them, loathed them, hated them. But for what for? I ask myself countless of times, I have never gotten an answer.

When they left, I left. Thinking it would be fate that had accidentally brought two people together who held no meaning for eachothers life, that it was a mistake, and I could've been wrong with how I'm feeling.

And when I came back, they were there.

And when I approached them, it felt right.

It was a week after the incident, but no matter how I tried, I still remember how their smile felt around me. Suffering, irritating, lovely. Like I wanted to relieve it, no matter how much time had passed.

Never once did I get their name in the span of meeting them, it was useless to know anyway.

Yet, I find myself returning to the museum every chance I get for God knows what, acting as if I had unfinished business staring at paintings while the staff rambled beside me. They were better off tattooing their explanation in my skull.

I had other places to attend to, other tasks I should've been doing rather than constantly visiting museum in the afternoon as if I have duties and low-paid labor for employment.

I should've been at my apartment days ago, exhausting myself on a half-assed manuscript I would have recurring thoughts of annihilating along with severing Bianca's hands through the phone.

What terrified me is why I was back.

Standing in front of them. My hands tucked deep inside the pockets of another trench coat, looking down on them sitting on one of the blocks of granite surrounding a oddly placed tree in the middle of the hall, drawing whatever there is to draw.

"Hello." I greeted them. They almost looked startled, surprised that I was even talking to them, like I was some vengeful ghost who returned to seek revenge. Though they weren't far off.

They looked up, immediately flipping over their clipboard as they locked eyes with me.

"Oh—" They cleared their throat, "Hi. Hey, hello." They smiled, albeit awkward. But that feeling of dread, or whatever, came back. Stronger than ever, I feared. I almost had half the mind of punching them in the gut and questioning them why they had this effect on me.

"Didn't know you come here often." A chuckle followed their question, or maybe it was a statement, placing their elbows on their lap while they gazed right at me.

I scoffed, murmuring against gritted teeth why did I even approach them in the first place. "And I didn't know you draw me that often."

I look down on the piece of paper, their deliberate and aggressive brush strokes having an effect on the paper, leaving marks upon marks. It was clear that I've been their subject for days on end. Even if I were to absent, I'd still be able to be the pinnacle of their sketches.

It was funny back then, humorous in my mind on how quick they snatched the piece of paper and tried to explain with little to no comprehension that went across their mind.

"Oh, God, no, no! I just—Okay, well, maybe I've been drawing you ever since I saw you, it's creepy now that I mention it... but it's just—it's dumb of me to not draw you, you know?" They were flustered, their mouth opening and closing only for me to receive words that were out of the dictionary.

They sighed, my lips twitched.

"I'd like to ask," My voice trailed off, grimacing even at the thought of having to initiate a conversation with more or less than five words, "What's... your name?"

"Y/N," They nodded, "L/N. Y/N/L/N." They reached out for a handshake only to immediately retract after a brief awkward seconds of staring. Their name sounded familiar.

"Why are you here?"

"Do I need to reason to?"

"I suppose so, no. But I am curious." Even I don't know why I'm still back here.

Y/n sighed, like I was the one getting on their nerves while it was me who battling against whatever fucked-up demon spawned in my stomach that caused me to feel, things.

"Nothing."

I frowned. "You came here because of.... Nothing?"

"Mhm."

"You are drawing strangers you know nothing about because of nothing?"

"Thought I made myself clear on that first word."

"You've made yourself look foolish than any average person."

"Well, you never told me your name. I think that's foolish enough over my case."

It was my turn to sigh.

"Addams." I reluctantly said to them, "Wednesday, Addams."

Then Y/n looked up at me as if I was some sort of otherworldly deity going back down to earth to finish whatever I started. "Wednesday Addams. I think I've heard that name before."

"No. No, you haven't."

If it wasn't horribly obvious, the sole purpose of my visit to Italy was to neglect everything I left behind in New York—especially deadlines— and hoped my eyes would finally work some sense that would let me start anew.

It was shameful of me, passion that dwindled into something less. If I had the chance, I would've tortured myself for even considering abandoning all of my life's work.

Though, I had my reasons. Even if I had threatened my target population and my audience, it still wouldn't be enough.

In short, I had lost motivation to pursue another book.

I felt as if there was something missing, that I couldn't even dare to even blow the collecting dust in the rims of my typewriter.

I begged for my brain to work, to even produce the slightest idea or word that could have some meaning to it. I was ready to write anything that came to mind, even if it was mediocre.

But, instead, my heart responded.

When I met Y/n, I started writing, and we started talking.

Words flowed through, and my time was wasted on Y/n.

My time was wasted, and they were wasted with their significant other.

I always thought I would suffer the thought of having to live an eternal life with none other than myself, that it was inevitable I was going to perish alone in my own woe.

It remained the same. Now, it's just having to live with the fact that my only greatest love had another.

I felt as if I ate a forbidden fruit once I heard they had someone that loved them as much as I denied myself of the same kind, like I plagued myself with hundreds of years of worry and attachment to someone who had eyes on another, a special muse they had.

Only that I would crumble immediately, tempted to take the fruit in my hands, forever stain my lips of something immoral so that I could forever crawl and weep over them.

In my time in Italy, I thought i'd be avoiding acquaintances that would be much more of a burden to me rather than someone useful. Yet there I was, watching Y/n saunter into my life like the revelation they were.

It's safe to say that Y/n turned out to be anything but a burden. They became someone I looked forward to seeing every day, though I hadn't realized they were motivation until then.

"Wends!"

Their awfully cheerful voice pierced through the air of the restaurant, almost granting the attention from other people as if they shared the same horrendous and dreadful nickname as me.

As much as I fantasized about walking out of the restaurant with y/n's half-broken jaw, I couldn't deny whatever was swirling in my head.

Ever since they knew of that wretched nickname unfortunately given to me by none other by that infectious and the ever infuriating ball of sunshine, Enid Sinclair, they've been calling me it as if I don't have a birth name.

It was a month ever since I've known Y/n, and it was a month of them being a constant presence in my life. They shared breakfast with me, lunches, and sometimes dinners that I somehow always and reluctantly accepted.

They became my routine, and it was a fact I'd sooner die with than confess to anyone.

Y/n slowly approached my table that was filled to the brim with countless of books and my oddly placed typewriter, putting their own stuff down on the seat beside them. "You're here early. You ordered something yet?"

It was 12PM. We agreed on 1, and I came at 10.

I scoffed, keeping my eyes on the typewriter. "You, of all people, should know by now that I would much rather sooner paint myself neon than touch anything on this menu."

I hear y/n setting their elbows on the table, resting their face between their hands. "Aw, c'mon Wends, it wouldn't kill you.

"Cyanide won't, but this will." I stopped writing to take one look at them, obviously and oddly, my gaze never and will never work on them. "Take my advice if you're eager to leave this restaurant with a mouth able to eat and speak."

"Ever the happiest person, Wends." They chuckled, sliding a somehow too bright and colorful menu towards them, "I'll order for you."

I stopped writing all together, "Y/n."

"Wednesday." They raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. It was over before I was even playing the game. Resistance over their lips felt futile anyway.

"Fine." I sighed, shutting my eyes closed just so that for once I can't have my stomach doing fucking acrobatics at the sight of them. "I will... allow it."

The ever-growing smile that crept up to their face was priceless, I couldn't bring myself to pry my eyes away. Murmuring something along the lines that I was too easy to lure in.

Once a waiter passed our table, Y/n ordered something along the lines of whatever the fuck 'Due Cream Soda Alla Vaniglia e Lampone con Glitter Commestibili' was. I was certain I was going to leave the restaurant with a non-working heart and a stomach turning inside and out.

It took no longer than a minute for Y/n to get a hold one of the numerous books piled infront of me. "Are you studying for something?" They asked, opening it only to close it once they noticed how outdated some of the languages are.

I let a small chuckle pass my lips. "What drives you to such a hypothesis."

They gestured to the books and my typewriter, "By how you're literally surrounded by books and you're on a fucking typewriter instead of a laptop." They pointed out, murmuring another, "Also, who the hell says hypothesis."

"People with functioning frontal lobes." I quipped, letting my fingers write on instinct across the typewriter keys as I listened to Y/n's ramblings. "I'm... writing."

"You're an author?"

"No."

"Then why—"

"Are you a painter? An artist?"

"Well... I—no?"

"Then we both don't know what we're doing."

Y/n fell silent moments after, I couldn't help but miss the sound of their voice. Admitting the mere thought aloud seemed absurd, let alone thinking it in the first place. I would've bashed my head on top of my typewriter if not for my resistance.

"How long will you be staying in Italy?" they eventually asked.

"Two more weeks," I replied. "My flight is already scheduled, I'll be leaving then on."

"Oh."

I wasn't expecting an answer anything other than a hint of happiness that I was eventually leaving their life.

"You are?" They repeated, as if they couldn't believe such a statement even escaped my lips, clear disappointment flickering across their face. "That's not... long."

"I am certainly not saying here indefinitely now that I have something to continue when I've arrived at my destination." I cleared out, doing my very best to escape the impending guilt washing over me.

"I'll miss you, Wednesday."

Their words were sincere. Lovely. It had stopped me from writing all together.

Guilt wasn't a feeling I was familiar with at the time. I rarely come across such a feeble emotion. Now it felt like I've committed something immoral. There were times that I lie for my own convenience, and nothing more than my own reason.

Now it felt like I should've lied for them.

I will forever miss you.

I wrote. I never showed them.

One week had passed and I rarely ever got to see Y/n after. Our encounters became increasingly scarce, and their voice plagued me from days on end.

I clung to the faithless hope I had that they would text me, to reach out, to even show me they're alive and well.

I returned to the museum for every day they were absent in my life, searching for any sign of their presence, but each day ended in disappointment.

Of course, fate is indifferent to my yearning, refusing to grant someone I so desperately sought.

Regret gnawed at me as the days turned into a week, and the week turned into the day before my flight.

"Addams. I've heard from others that you've been writing."

"Who others?"

"I'll spare a name to spare New York a corpse found in their sewage pipes by the time you've, hopefully I assume, returned and not jump off the plane."

"Even if I went off the grid, your nagging would've been in spirit."

"Don't flatter me."

"Don't kill yourself without showing me a video tape in full resolution for me to get through rough weeks. Or maybe take a shotgun and shoot yourself in your garage and let me have the keys to your house."

"Addams."

I sigh. "Yes, the rumors—though I would want that vampires head on a stake—are true. I've been writing."

"What happened to you there? You met someone?"

"How'd you know—No. No, I—I haven't. What makes you come to such a foolish conclusion?"

"Oh my God, someone actually managed Wednesday—I'd rather kill myself before loving anyone—Addams to fall terribly in love with them. Who's the unfortunate soul?"

"I would not be naming them because they do not exist."

"You just stuttered, Wednesday. The only thing making you stumble your words is when you're overdosing on whatever poison you're having for breakfast."

"They're no one."

"How are you such a bad liar when you have countless of bodies hidden across the globe?"

I sigh again, this time, it was out of annoyance. "I'll be hanging up. Goodbye, Barclay. If ever you are considering to kill yourself, call me. I'll be at my most happiest to watch."

"Wait, no, Wednesday! I need progress on your—"

I hung up. It was pointless to answer her calls when I was a mere few step away from boarding a plane. She always had a way of getting under my skin, even from across the damn globe.

But there was one name that would always surface in my thoughts: Y/n.

The mere thought of their name will forever remind me of how my heart wasn't programmed to love.

I reached for my phone, fingers tracing over the cold screen. My mind was tired, blank. The only thing I could ever do is stare at their contact and wish I could've done something better.

I typed out a hesitant message, my thumb hovering over the send button as if it was something that could end my world. Only two thoughts ran to my mind: Would they reply, or would my message be nothing to them?

I almost hit send before I heard footsteps approaching me.

"Y/n?"

I whispered their name, the love I carried for them being surrendered like I'd crawl for them once I reached purgatory.

"What are you doing here?" My eyebrows furrowed. How could they leave me, only to return as I was about to depart? "Why are you here, you disappeared, avoided me, why—"

"He proposed to me."

Oh.

I always thought a near-death experience with a loved one would be the deepest I could feel.

I realized I was wrong.

Now my eyes ached to the sting. Like I was weeping for someone that perished in my heart, I grieve for a living soul that was me. It was pathetic.

I expected them to be overjoyed, over the moon as they would express themselves from time to time.

But when I met their eyes, all I saw were tears streaming down their face.

Oh, how I wished to wipe their worries away.

"Then why are you crying?"

"I don't know if I love him."

"Nonsense... You told me you loved him—"

"Well, maybe I haven't been saying anything true to you!"

"Look, I don't know what I'm doing—I don't know what the hell are we doing. I'm living in some apartment with some guy I don't even know I even love, I'm currently standing here like an idiot to a girl who's just about to leave my life, and you're—"

"You're everything."

It was that moment I realized I was lost in a haze of admiration and love for Y/n.

That I was far too deep in their life that they became mine. I never knew I needed them as much when I told them to leave with me and break up with their significant other.

I never knew I needed their lips onto mine until the moment I pulled them close to me.

Now I ache of them.

"Do you regret it, mother? Being such a fool for someone, you became what you hated most. But you endured it all for them."

Wednesday Addams, seating across the bed from her daughter, Blair Addams. She looked just like you, she'd always wonder.

Wednesday sighed, her hand reaching out to gently touch Blair's. "Do you know the phrase, 'Come ti vidi M’innamorai, E tu sorridi Perchè lo sai?'" she asked softly.

"You know I've never indulged myself in whatever you're reading." She shook her head with a smile. She looked even more like you.

She let her fingers trace patterns on her hand, her gaze wandering else where. "Well, it translates to 'When I first met you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew," she explained.

"And do you believe in that, mother?"

Wednesday could almost smile. Her daughter was always the curious one, yet she always managed to be privy of her life from them. "I always believed Y/N knew the moment we first laid eyes on each other, I fell in love with them."

"So, yes, my raven." She nodded, "I do."

"I never knew Y/n would make me their title, their theme, their muse," Wednesday pondered, "I always wondered why i fell for them."

"Falling is an accident, gullible, like with people who fail to do basic things. But I am one of those people if not more if I fell for their on accident and continued to do so."

She sat beside Blair, her legs crossed beside her. "I've never told you at the time, but Y/n was a painter. And they wanted nothing more but than to forget about their past. They have never told me as to why, but I believe them.""

"I worried that my love was violence. It was pain, it was suffering. But y/n took care of themselves, they took care of me. There is no one in the world who had loved me more than them, I fear that it would break them, that I am deemed no longer someone who is a part of their story."

"Yet here we are."

Wednesday couldn't see the smile creeping from her daughters lips. But she knew it was there, just like how you looked like before. She will always and forever take pride in it.

She always thought her greatest love could be something of a passion, a talent, a hobby perhaps.

But no one told her it could be a person.

Blair stretched and turned on a light beside her bed, opening a drawer and taking out two of Wednesday's books. "Must they be the reason your books has been off to your prior ones, mother? You've written all your life of gore and mystery. Now it's romance."

"Well, I—"

"Oh, I'm definitely the reason why your mother has been subtly—not-so-subtly, switching to the romance genre."

You peered through the door, your body wrapped up in a cozy boritto style and everything with a train draping it's way to your back like some met-gala dress.

"Oh, mon chéri," Wednesday's face lit up at the sight of you, immediately standing up and pulled you close, her arms enveloping you in a warm embrace.

Her lips met yours in soft kisses, leaving the taste of faint vanilla chapstick lingering on your lips. "Why are you up so late?"

"Well," You grinned against her lips, "I felt our bed getting cold and to my surprise my wife isn't nowhere near me. You know how I can't sleep without you." She pulled away, you whined at the lost of contact, but you couldn't smile more brightly as she led you towards your daughter. "G'evening, Blair."

"Evening, Y/n." She greeted you before you kissed her on the forehead.

You leaned against Wednesday's shoulder, whispering softly, "You're telling her our story again?"

Wednesday would've thought her small chuckle went unnoticed, but you definitely heard it. The stupid smile on your face told everything.

Her hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. "She loves it."

"You love it, mother. Probably more than me." Blair retorted back, evident that she was holding back a laugh.

"I do not! When did I ever—"

"Oh, honey, you know love turns your mother into a girl version of your abuelo.

"Do not ever refer to me as my love drunk father or I will subject you to sleeping on the couch." Wednesday rolled her eyes, pinching the back of your palm. "And please do not shame my work of referring to it as such. I've worked hard day and night yet you proceed call it by such an exasperate—"

You turned your head and pressed a kiss on her cheek, the same spot where her freckles resided, causing her to pause mid-sentence. After atleast ten years of being with her, it always made you so giddy.

"Not even in marriage am I spared by your passive aggressive comments," you teased, your lips curling into a smile as you leaned in closer to her.

You hear your daughter sigh after a brief second, "Addams."

Wednesday almost looked shocked, "My Raven, do not call us by our last—"

"Please exit my room. I'll be going to sleep."

And then, the both of them were shoved off before they could even hug their daughter and kiss her goodnight like they always did.

"I... We were rejected, Y/n." Wednesday exclaimed, like she just got struck with the most heartbreaking news. "She used to love our stories together when she was an infant."

You'd think Wednesday was the non-chalant mom who's strict on her child. But, to your surprise, she was the opposite.

She loved Blair just as much she loved you. Hell, you even considered just maybe, maybe not, disowning your daughter because she gets Wednesday's attention more than you do.

You shrugged, taking her hand and leading her to your upstairs bedroom. "It gets stale once in a whileeeOW!" You winced as Wednesday pinched the back of your palm, again. It was starting to become her love language at this point.

"I'm just kidding!" You reassured her, intertwining your fingers with hers as you walked up the stairs together, pulling the door open for your wife. "She's just in her rebellious teen phase, let it go."

Wednesday rolled her eyes, "Too cliche."

"You used to have one too," you scoffed, settling onto your side of the bed and watching as she laid down on hers.

It was a routine you found yourself often doing, taking in the sight of your beloved as if your life with Wednesday was all a dream. You pinch yourself like almost thrice a day just to really make sure.

"Since when?" Wednesday asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement, quietly shuffling towards you.

You sat up for a moment to undo her braids. You always liked playing with her hair, and that one time she asked of you to undo hers, it became a routine. "Since the beginning of time. And somehow, you never grew out of it."

"You didn't even meet me in my teenage years. I am far from rebellious."

"Yes, baby, but not too far from a death penalty." You chuckled, reaching out to gentle stroke her hair, leaning in to press a soft kiss against her forehead.

"Oh, you flatter me," she replied, a smirk across her lips, but the room was too dim to even notice it.

By now, if you were any ordinary person, Wednesday would've made you disappear entirely. But, the thing is, Wednesday always seemed to look at you as if her life never really started until she found you.

Silence managed to take over the atmosphere, you laid back on the comfortable mattress, feeling Wednesday's head nestled on your arms that were tucked under her hair.

You could almost fall asleep in pure bliss knowing that you've met and loved the girl of your dreams if not for her calling out for you.

"Amore." She whispered.

"Amore?" She whispered again, her voice softer than ever before.

You blinked, momentarily. You swore you just heard an angel. "Yes, amore?"

"Can I... Can you—"

You smiled, almost too knowingly. You knew Wednesday, for someone who's such a romantic soul, she's not too expressive on simple terms like these. "Do you want to be the little spoon?"

She grimaced, you could even hear her grunts of disapproval. "I would highly refrain from calling it that before I jump out of bed and skin you from limb to limb. But... yes, I would like to."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips at her response, suppressing a grin to avoid from literally being murdered as you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her close.

Ten years before, if someone had told you that you're going to be doing this to girl you've met at a museum while trying to escape your past, let alone be happily married to her, you would've told them "How the fuck do you know that and please stay away, I have... a boyfriend. I guess."

But now, it seemed so believable. Wednesday was always so relaxed in your arms, your warmth and hers bringing a sort of comfort for the both of you.

You nuzzled your head against the back of her neck, gently moving strands of her hair aside as you pressed soft kisses against her skin, hoping to kick away her tension from the day.

"Stop pouting, Wends," you murmured softly into her skin as you closed your eyes in pure relief.

You hear her scoff, "I am not doing such a humiliating act."

"Oh but you so are." Your grin widening as you pressed another gentle kiss against her nape, "I can hear it from here."

Wednesday let out a sigh, of annoyance? Maybe. But was it tinged with pure adoration and love? Much so. "You don't hear pouts, Y/n."

"When it comes to you, I do and I can."

Silence washed over. This time, you're worried you've teased her that much, she actually got annoyed with you.

"You're awfully quiet. By this time, you're probably threatening to kill me."

"I'm... Sorry." Wednesday whispered, it has an undying tone of tenderness that you don't often see it being expressed through words from her. Slowly, she shifted her body to face yours.

One thing is for certain: She was still so terrifyingly bewitching if not more. She looked pretty in every way possible, it's hard to even believe, it left you in awe.

You feel her gaze darting on your eyes and then drifting down to your lips, hesitating even. It was ridiculous, in the most adorable way possible there is for an Addams like her.

"May I kiss you?"

"You know you're always welcome. It's pointless to ask."

She was the first to reach out, her hand finding it's way to the curve of your cheek, her touch gentle than ever as she traced the line of your jaw as if she was memorizing every feature of yours.

You cupped her face in reciprocation, leaning in closer to where your lips were just hovering inches away from hers. Then, you closed the space between the both of you.

You pulled away, your eyes meeting hers with a soft smile. It was impossible to think that this woman held your heart in her hands like it was nothing.

"Have I ever told you that you're pretty?" you whispered, letting your hands fall to her waist and pulled her close.

"Ever since you've met me."

“You know, I’m surprised you even remember our first meeting.”

“Oh, how could I ever forget my lover?”

You laughed, a symphony that always gets Wednesday to have a slight tug in her lips. “Stop being so romantic. You are a grown woman with a daughter.”

You continued to stare into her eyes as you drape the rest of the blanket for the both for you. "It's hard to think you're the first one to fall in love and not me."

"It's hard to think of anything when you're here with me, te amo." Wednesday replied, her gaze softening almost immediately.

You sighed. "You know I love you, right?"

Wednesday blinked. "I always will."

You smiled.

And Wednesday smiled back.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: this was longer than i thought. i yap too much in stories i fear

#wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x gnreader #wednesday addams x gn!reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x female reader

[p1nkshield]

Welcome to chapter 3 of the unnamed prompt fill! I had some trouble with tagging people so if you asked to be tagged and I didn’t it wasn’t on purpose! Also lmk what you think this should be called!

The dining room erupted in shouts of confusion and disbelief.

“What do you mean ‘I thought you knew’ Jason?!? How are we supposed to predict that your rock would evolve like a Pokémon?!?” Dick questioned as the spaghetti that was once on his fork inched towards his shoe.

“Bruce was the one who put me on babysitting duty in the first place!” Jason defended

Bruce’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion “I asked you to keep an eye on an unknown asset from a mission, I had no idea the core was anything more than a power source.”

“What?!? How could you not? He was screaming every time they turned that damn thing on!”

Jason surveyed the perplexed looks on his family’s faces.

“Wait…ONLY I COULD HEAR HIM?!? YOU ALL THOUGHT I WAS JUST TALKING TO A ROCK FOR WEEKS?!? NOBODY SAID ANYTHING?!?”

They all rushed to defend themselves as they all grew more and more embarrassed over their lack of communication regarding Jason’s recent behavior.

Silence washed over them as the child in Jason’s arms stirred securing a tighter hold to his sleeve.

Jason suddenly remembered where he was.

He looked to Alfred, panic stricken and croaked out “help”

Before he could do so another icy orb of light appeared, gracefully transformed into a scroll and flitted gently into Alfred’s hands. Without batting an eye he read aloud.

“If this message has been sent correctly it should currently be in the hands of whomever is the leader of the household entrusted to watch over Young Phantom as he recovers from his injuries. I may have pulled a few strings in the time stream in order to get him to the safest place with enough ambient ectoplasm to allow him to fully heal. Please know that the child you guard is much more powerful than he appears as he is of the infinite realms, a dimension most likely beyond your comprehension.

CW

P.S. Tell Danny that yes, this is normal and yes, his usual haunt and his humans are safe when he asks”

Nobody looked anymore informed by this information.

“Well isn’t that terribly vague.” Alfred noted as he deftly swept up the child from Jason’s arms and carried him to the nearest guest room. Jason followed closely behind him.

Bruce let out a long, tired sigh. As soon as he heard the words ‘the infinite realms’ he knew who held more information about this subject.

“Constantine.” Batman steeled himself for the conversation ahead.

“What a pleasant surprise! The ol spookster has called me of his own volition. What sort of world ending threat is it this time?”

Batman chose to ignore the nickname and remark and began to ask “what do you know about the infinite realms?”

Constantine choked on his drag of cigarette.

“Who… tf… told you about the infinite realms?” A look of genuine worry was painted across his face as he coughed and recovered from the shock.

This wasn’t good, Constantine solemnly addressed his colleague.

“Bats do not meddle with this. If you can back away now. The denizens of the infinite realms vary in strength and temperament. It’s a gamble as to whether they help you or try to skin you alive and with their power set they absolutely can.”

“Too late”

Constantine groaned and looked to the ceiling searching for reason as to why he befriended people who got themselves into such strange and dangerous situations.

“Elaborate please, Batarang.”

“We’ve been elected to watch over a ‘Young Phantom’ as he heals from being unprecedentedly wounded. My team wasn’t aware of this until last night when his situation became more… clear.” Batman began to explain until he was greeted with a new peculiar high pitched noise emitting from the other end of the call.

“You have THE NEW KING?!? Nonono you’re in deep. Don’t call me anymore you only bring destruction to my life! Now I have to come over! Maybe I can smooth things over. Who hurt him this bad?!? Mortals? Mortal humans? It was, wasn’t it? I can see it on your face! You stay right there. DON’T DO ANYTHING. I’ll be over in five seconds.”

Constantine hung up on him.

Bruce sighed as the screen of the bat computer went black.

That went well.

@chrysanthemum9484 @kyrianclawraith @blankliferain @pastalavistamf @sara0055 @pike-s @xye-chan @blackroselina @malice-of-the-sunrise @gin2212 @meira-3919 @addie-lover-of-stories @undead-essence @onlyhereforthechaos @charcoalstainedbones @mimilikey @ectoradiation @persephoneblackrose @farmercale @claudiashq @boo-ghosties @56thingsinaname @insomniaxonline @thefanficcup @alixanterm @terzatheunderscorerima @skulld3mort-1fan

#prompt fill #dp x dc crossover #ghost king danny #clockwork shenanigans #dc x dp #DCXDP #At the Core fic

[bengiyo]

Why Do I Tag So Many Creators in My Posts? It’s About Respect

Earlier today I was talking with @sophsloveskpop in the notes of a post, and was asked about all of the interaction between blogs in the posts and essays about the shows. I’ve noticed an uptick in new names interacting with posts (and making great posts of their own!) and wanted to talk about why I do it and why I like fandom on Tumblr.

Fundamentally, I think it’s generally good courtesy to acknowledge when someone else has expressed a similar idea to your, or an idea that intrigues you. I think it’s best to tag that person and link to their post so that others can also experience it. It also opens you up to a dialogue with them and others.

People Like Getting Their Flowers

If someone posts an analysis or even a quirky idea that I felt the need to think about, I will mention them in my posts. None of the great content we get on here is necessarily quick to make. I absolutely love all of the gifmakers who fight against Photoshop, Tumblr, and God Himself to post snippets of shows on here for us. I wouldn’t be able to flesh out some of my posts, illustrates points, or otherwise breakup walls of text without @liyazaki, @wanderlust-in-my-soul, @pharawee, or @gabrielokun. Whenever I can’t find the gif I’m looking for through Tumblr’s terrible gif search, I reach out to one of them for permission to use their gifs directly.

Also, many of us just like being acknowledged that someone we wrote meant something to someone else. Every time I get tagged by someone in an essay I’m like:

It’s a Conversation

I don’t think fandom is about being the smartest person or the most correct person. My basic framework I’m writing from is Black Gay Nerd Who Watches a Lot of Stuff. It’s what I’m most familiar with personally, and I find that people have really responded to that.

I’ve been around for a very long time, and have been seeing folks like @so-much-yet-to-learn around the entire time, who often has more specific information about fandom life during the airing of shows. @absolutebl and @heretherebedork have watched more BL than I have, and I’ve seen at least 250 productions. ABL has some of the most comprehensive posts collecting some of the history.

I made so many friends after diving into @shortpplfedup DMs to talk about sustainable urbanism and bonding over our shared geography. Now we run @the-conversation-pod together. Through them I befriended so many others, like @elnotwoods and @kyr-kun-chan.

I’m not a color theory expert, and so I love reading posts from @respectthepetty and others (I think @sliceduplife writes about color too).

We wouldn't even have my favorite show without @isaksbestpillow.

I know what shows are coming because of @clairificusrex.

I don’t know much about music theory, but @iguessitsjustme write some great stuff about the music in these shows.

I don’t always read the body language of hands as closely as someone like @wen-kexing-apologist might.

I am not Asian, and so I like reading from @waitmyturtles, @telomeke-bbs, and @neuroticbookworm. I know that @recentadultburnout and @airenyah offer useful perspective on Thai language.

Sometimes folks are going to narrow down on specific shows and consistently write about them for years on side blogs like @miscellar.

Some people have studied so much and bring specific academic lenses to the genre that I find compelling, like @emotionallychargedtowel.

In many cases, I just vibe with them really hard, like @ginnymoonbeam.

I actually didn’t always post as much as I do, but I try to keep up my Stray Thoughts project so that people can keep track of what I’m watching. I used to write less meta, but then I befriended @waitmyturtles and @lurkingshan. Any time I say anything remotely thoughtful Shan is like:

Also, though, this is Tumblr! It’s easy to tag each other and link to each other’s posts! This is what makes us different from every

Isn’t It Just More Fun?

I don’t enjoy shows passively. I grew up in a family that watched things together. My mom, dad, sister, and I all have differing tastes from each other, but we watched a lot of different things together. My friends and I discussed the things we watched at school.

I’m a big fan of the water cooler approach to TV show distribution, which basically says you want your show to be the show people are talking about on their breaks at work. I always like Film Crit Hulk’s theory that movies (and our dramas) are the proverbial campfires around which we gather to share ourselves with each other.

This is all supposed to be fun, and I have more fun when we interact. I get tagged daily by @blmpff about updates from sets, or when we all need to rush to IG to make sure Fluke Pongsakorn doesn’t cut his hair. When @bl-bam-beyond makes a new set or post they let me know, and they recently rewatched Noah’s Arc! I made friends with @gillianthecat in the last year or so, and it’s been fun seeing her make her way through fandom. I always get excited with @troubled-mind pings me in a post because I know it’s going to give me something to chew on. I didn’t have a genuine appreciation for kink culture until I watched along with @lutawolf. If something funny is happening in fandom I know @benkaaoi is going to tag me. I still get excited when @heukheuk pops up in my mentions.

I know I’ve probably forgotten so many people alone the way here, and I’m sorry if I didn’t mention you.

Tag Because It’s the Right Thing to Do

So seriously, tag people and link to their posts. Try to use the giffmakers specific tags when you’re using the search feature. Fandom is better when we all interact respectfully and enthusiastically with each other. Tumblr is special because it lets us create goofy little essays like this and tag dozens of people just to get their attention.

If you have a cool thought about a show I’m watching, tag me. If you see something funny, tag me in the comments. If you wanna hash out an idea before posting it, DM me. This is Tumblr. Don’t be shy with your thoughts. It’s okay to be wrong on the internet. It’s actually fun to be wrong on the internet about show predictions!

Thank you as always for coming to my post.

#Ben writes #fandom life #tumblr life

[lakesbian]

OH have you finished all of animorphs then? Any general wrap-up thought on the characters n their arcs if so?

oh boy okay that's a big ask because the lack of specificity means i'm inclined to be comprehensive. i'm gonna force myself to be brief

jakey: very coherent arc from "i'm not the leader why are you guys saying i'm the leader stop saying i'm the leader" to "Subhuman. Flush 'em." it's good. i also like the chain where he's like. initially invested for saving his brother > tells marco he can't make calls about his mother because he's too close to the situation and is frankly an ass about it while hypocritically insisting he can handle the yeerk controlling his brother trying to murder his father, relieved when the animorphs take the difficulty of having to make the choice away from him but still views it as an indictment of his leadership capabilities > during the evacuation of the families he almost like...overcompensates w/ under-prioritizing himself and his loved ones, irrationally prioritizes everyone else's families being moved out first despite the fact that it would have made more tactical sense to do his first > he loses his family over this and it breaks him

rachel: problem w/ rachel is that, unbeknownst to me when i started reading, multiple of the books for her just had no idea what the hell or fuck they were doing, and were wildly out of character. ignoring the books that were fake and didn't happen, her arc is good. the thing is that "we might have to do something terrible, too. get rachel" is the crux of her Issues and the ghostwriters didn't need to do any of that other shit. the fake and true rachel books would've been served better by exploring the fundamental divide btwn her and cassie as people i'm sure you know what i mean

marco: probably the most consistent/strong arc? it's good. reading the end part was like

marco: i haven't seen jake in a few months. i still worry about him of course, just...from my hot tub me: that seems not true marco: okay so he hasn't seen ME in a few months but i have been continuously accidentally-on-purpose spying on him, and also sometimes i turn into a lobster in my fountain to cope me: okay yeah that's true

i like his fundamental internal conflict of. Being a person who is very capable of seeing, as per his iconic monologue, the bright line from a to z, and also continuously kicking the part of him that's horrified & upset by how that line impacts himself/the things personal to him under a rug. and despising when people pity him or acknowledge that he's upset/hurt because it reminds him he's got all that shit under the rug and distracts him from the bright clear line. really really good character writing how he's completely okay with constantly yelling and crying about how he's the most scared and afraid boy ever because fear over physical things is pragmatic, but he can't tolerate having it acknowledged when he's upset by something he knows to be necessary, because that's Not pragmatic. it adds flavor

cassie: i think it's funny how some of the other roles on the team are "the leader" "the lieutenant" "the axe-man" (<- not to be confused with the ax-man) etc and she's The One With A Continuously Functioning Moral Compass, Nerd #2, and The Emergency Lisa*. i've been told that the cassie books are either some of the strongest in the series or absolutely nothing but the thing is that i like the absolute nothing ones because i think the shenanigans are fun. so overall she's got great books. the struggle of a character who finds the moral compromises she's forced to make while participating in a war genuinely psychologically intolerable but still keeps being sucked in further is good & a nice sort of foil 2 some of the other morphs. i do have. And this has to be said despite being somewhat tangential. i do have the firm opinion that. rachel and cassie v much come off like they should be the classic "people who were bffs as kids and start becoming distant/incompatible as teens but are ignoring it and will be insisting on hanging out/calling each other bffs for several more years until something causes a bigger schism" dynamic & it would add a lot more if the text was aware of this fact and did something about it. but that's a longer post for a later time

tobias: his stomach flipping over while he tries to deny that the hawk-boy form of himself ellimist is showing him is him is perhaps one of the most stark scenes in the entire series and i think we should all be drawing it more. it's nice they put an abused autistic kid who doesn't feel like a human person in animorphs so that various children reading could have their brains rewired. i like how he's got a very heavy internal life. he's always Pondering. the torture plotline is a bit weakly written i think, his strongest moments are when he's doing an identity crisis thing. his dynamic with rachel is really good and the end of his arc does feel fitting. i think with how aximili is always going on abt how tobias is his shorm aka soulmate it would've been good if we saw more of the convos they were having or they had a more clearly Besties bond going on. although i DO like that aximili almost never shouts, someone (jake?) explicitly notes that when ax Does yell it means you'd better fucking listen, and to my memory the only call-caps moment aximili has is yelling "TOBIAS!" when he thinks tobias is critically wounded. more of that shit please. i would've also liked more tobias books in general bc he has one of the strongest narrative voices out of the gang

aximili: I was so mad about his very last book in the series being a shit ghostwriting moment. So mad you do not even want to know. entire plot of, like, book 8 all over again, except this time he's casually considering endorsing genocide for some reason. anyway i think there's a lot of interesting things going on in his head but his arc doesn't really wrap up well & there are a few ghostwritten books where he feels poorly done w/o having a rachel-type Really Iconic book that makes up for it. he works better early and mid series. he's also just a fundamentally hilarious character concept which is great. i'm sad that people lied to me about him being autistic compared to other andalites (he's not) but i like when he has axtism moments anyway. i would like to see 100 drawings of axmini get cinnamon roll now please

#ask #animorphs lb

[jalwyn21]

I'm team joe but I wanna ask you guys: don't you think he probably cheated?

I don't view cheating as something so reprehensible. I don't do it and wouldn't like for it to be done to me or any of my friends, but I don't feel any impulse to cancel someone over it. I think is a very personal issue and it's up for each couple to decide where they stand in it. I mean, I'm sure we all watched joe on cwf and appreciate sally rooney.

that being said, didn't TS said in so long london "I founded the club she heard great things about"? fortnight is about matty but it reads like they're neighboors and she's singing about killing his wife, so that makes me think that the "my husband is cheating" line is about joe. she also sang something in another song in the lines of "he was already dreaming about her" which can mean he was emotionally cheating on her just like she did with matty.

anyway it's okay if they did, but don't we think that's the case? I think it's implied that he did something and that she broke up with him after cheating on him with matty multiple times in her head. I think that would explain kelleigh and the rage taylor had for him the whole past year.

Cheating is something awful and disrespectful and should absolutely be seen as a bad thing. Having morals and being loyal is a good thing. Let's call a spade what it is. CWF is about 4 very flawed people doing stupid, terrible things and hurting themselves and others. Not something to look up to.

Joe did NOT cheat on ts. No doubt whatsoever about it! Not only because Joe is an honorable man who would not dishonor himself like that, but also because there is not one shred of evidence that he did. Let's be real here, ts is the most petty, vindictive and hateful woman on the planet. If she had even the tiniest proof he was unfaithful she would have screamed it of the top of her head. We would be 20 short films deep into the annihilation of Joe. Alas, all she has is: he was sad and I got bored of him.

I worry about your comprehension skills. 🙄🙄🙄 Obviously she doesn't have a husband. Fortnight is about an affair that only lasted 2 weeks and dealing with an imaginary future where they are married to other people. And she hates his imaginary wife and her imaginary husband is cheating on her. It's a song about regretting what could have been. It's a what if the affair didn't end after a fortnight. 🙄

"I founded the club she heard great things about" Why must you remind me of that line. I bloody hate it. The audacity to put that disrespectful line in the song. Actually the more I think about it the more I despise ts. She is lying. She did not founded the Joe Alwyn Club. Ang Lee founded the club we've all heard great things about. And the first member to sign up for the club was Yorgos Lanthimos. He was the second director to give Joe a role back in 2015. And the reason we've all heard great things about the Joe Alwyn Club is because Joe is a great man. Not because of ts, but because of him, and his work and his character. And the fact that she is implying that she is better than the women Joe will date after her is pathetic. No, she is not better. She is richer and more successful, but not a better person. Any woman Joe will date after ts with be a better human than ts. And it's ugly of her to try to take credit for Joe and to attack and attempt to belittle Joe's future girlfriends or wife.

#free joe alwyn #jalwyn #q&a #nonnie #joe alwyn #anti taylor swift #joealwyn #toxic swifties #shit swifties say #toxic taylor swift #joe alwyn rumours #parasocial relationships #free joe alwyn from psycho swifties #joe alwyn is beautiful #swifties dni #shit swifties do #shit taylor says

[benkyoutobentou]

Hello

What are some good resources for learning Japanese?

Thank you for asking!

For just starting out, I recommend JapanesePod101's videos on both hiragana and katakana.

For beginner grammar, I used and really enjoyed videos from both Japanese Ammo with Misa and Miku Real Japanese (both on YouTube). Misa's videos are a lot longer and more in depth, but if you want a quick overview of a grammar point, Miku's videos are great. Both channels also have lots of other Japanese learning content as well!

For beginner textbooks, Genki is well loved, but I haven't used it myself. I also believe that there are YouTubers who make videos based on the lessons within Genki, if that's up your alley. I won't even name the textbooks I used to start out, because I'd never recommend them.

To get started with kanji, WaniKani is a popular choice that seems to work great, but it's a pretty pricey subscription. I use the app Learn Japanese! - Kanji, which is a one time purchase of 10 USD. It can be buggy, but it has a built in spaced repetition system and, hey, it's ten dollars.

The subreddit r/LearnJapanese has a huge resource list here, but I only link this hesitantly, as my main advice to using it is to look at the resources, and never darken r/LearnJapanese's door ever again. That place is horrible and will eat all motivation you have to learn Japanese. I saw someone ask elsewhere if it was possible to be fluent in Japanese because they saw someone on that subreddit say it wasn't. Seriously, it's bad.

As for my current resources, ie. very much not beginner resources, I'm slowly but surely making my way through Tobira. I really like it as a textbook, but I also just use it as far as I need it. To elaborate, I came back to it after a while of not using it, and found that it was just a bit too easy now (singing the praises of immersion!), so I've been skipping around on the reading comprehension questions, because I just don't think they're worth the effort for me right now. The later chapters probably will be, though.

JPBD is a lifesaver for me right now. I've fought with Anki on multiple occasions and had it work for me many times, but right now, the premade decks are what are gonna get me to study vocabulary, not pretty pictures. I also really like the ability to study a deck before you read something, rather than only being able to study vocabulary retroactively. The example sentences can be weird or terrible, but it allows you to choose from multiple sentences or make your own, so the benefits absolutely outweigh the drawbacks for me. Another thing of note is that these flashcards only go Japanese-English, so if you want to have the option to do English-Japanese cards, you might want to stick to Anki (or idk rip the decks and put them in Anki).

If you're ready to immerse and want to start a collection of physical books, I buy 90% of my Japanese language books through CDJapan. They have multiple options for shipping and are generous enough with sales and rewards points that usually I can get that to cover the cost of shipping. Plus they sell at Japanese retail price (minus tax!) so it's extremely reasonably priced.

I hope this helped a bit, and good luck on your language learning journey!

#thank you for asking!!! #langblr #studyblr #benkyou posting #polyglot #languages #language learning #japanese #studyinspo #日本語 #tumblr please dont nuke this post because of linkssssss

[imswimmingback]

ok ok so i've now watched the mv again (and again and again) and i think i understand it better? idk i could be totally wrong, feel free to correct me or add on to this

overall, i take it as a dipiction of an unhealthy or toxic relationship.

we open up to a girl running with her dog, and then the dog sees this doll lying on a bench-from that point on, we see everything from the perspective of the doll.

at first, the doll is cautious with the dog-we can see the doll has been stiched back up from past rips in multiple places, which shows that the doll has been through this same situation before, maybe even multiple times. she won't automatically trust the dog because she's understandably scared and doesn't want all of the terrible things to happen again.

but the dog shows interest in her, and slowly, she begins to trust it and starts to fall in love with it. and the dog takes her with it everywhere, quite literally ripping her apart. she keeps trying to heal her own wounds, trying to sew herself back up, wanting to stay with the dog because she loves it.

but at the beginning of the video, before the dog comes, we see a loose thread. slowly, gets pulled tighter and tighter until it eventually snaps. i see that as a symbol of the toll the relationship takes on the doll.

when the thread snaps, she begins to see the dog for what it really is-not as someone who loves her but as someone who's hurting her (once i took your medication to know what it's like/and now i have to act like i can't read your mind). she unearthes it for what it actually is, and literally takes off its mask.

she still tries to hang on to the dog because she loves it (i'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning), but it throws her away (telling you it's nice to see how good you're doing/even though WE know it isn't true) and she falls apart. she can't sew herself back up anymore. she can't keep herself together anymore. the dog tears her apart, and the relationship is over on a very destructive note.

i think it's also important to note that i think she knew all along that the dog wasn't good for her-"feeling like an absolute fool about it/wishin you were kind enough to be cruel about it". she knows the dog isn't good, and she wants it to be over, but she hangs on because she's fallen in love with it, fallen into its trap.

i also love how they chose to use a dog, seeing how many of their projects talk about them. bite the hand, crying wolf, heatwave (covered in scars a canyon deep), and i'm sure there's so so many more- i especially love the comparison to me & my dog and moon song (so i will wait for the next time you want me / like a dog with a bird at your door) because both of those also talk about similar situations.

anyways, that sounded a lot better in my head but hopefully it's comprehensible :) thanks for listening to the rant. i'm sure i'll find way more things to talk about as i watch it more so i might make more posts about it, i'm so obbsessed with this mv, words can't express it. please add on anything i might've missed!!

#cool about it #cool about it mv #boygenius #julien baker #lucy dacus #phoebe bridgers #the record

[copperbadge]

We recently got into a discussion of producing audiobooks for small press, indy, and/or selfpub authors on another post, but we had strayed pretty far from the original post, and @genedoucette very kindly gave permission for me to slice his comment off the end of that post and put it into a new one.

genedoucette

I have been very, very lucky when it comes to audiobooks, so I'm hesitant to offer advice without adding a huge YMMV caveat at the top. For most of my self-published novels, I used ACX and paid a narrator out-of-pocket (rather than 50-50 proceeds split), which just means I'm paying an agreed-upon X dollars per finished hour, prior to making any money off f the audio editon. Every book I did this with paid for itself, sometimes within the first two or three months, sometimes longer. (YMMV: I did a lot of this during what I would call the audiobook bubble, when demand was higher than supply.) I had another novel series--Tandemstar--that I brought to an audiobook company, who brought it to their distributor, who agreed to pay for the production costs of the book and to pay me a (small) advance. To date, the royalties from that series have not made up the cost of the advance, but the good news was that none of the production costs came from my pocket and the advance meant I did make something out of the deal. The rule-of-thumb I always heard was, don't expect books that haven't sold well to sell any better as audiobooks. But my experience, with ACX/Audible, is this: about 50% of my monthly earning come from audio sales. How long is the book in question (word count), and what is the genre? Because it is absolutely possible to get a not-terrible narrator at a not-terrible cost on ACX. If it's a low word count book with a decent sales record, I'd 100% do it. If it's a high word count book with few sales, maybe not.

Thanks so much for this! I am admittedly always suspicious of Amazon writ large, but it's not like I've never partnered with them before, and often for indy authors they're one of a very few games in town.

50% of sales via audio impresses me a lot -- I'm not really in the industry so my sense of scale may be off but my eyebrows went up at that. And looking at ACX, a split-profits model would be appealing. I'm more interested in providing the reader with more options than I am with making royalties, so I don't mind low payout, but I also don't want to exploit a narrator if I can avoid it.

I doubt I'm selling near the level you are, but it's pretty consistent, at least -- for the last literary novel I published in 2021, and for the four genre romances published in the past year-and-change, it's generally 200-250 copies (epub and paperback) in the first 6 months, and about 40 per year after that. None of them are over 100K words -- the first of the romance novels, the one I'd be most likely to have done as an audiobook to trial, is around 50K, and the other books are all between 60K and 90K or so.

There's some fine print I'm not nuts about -- exclusivity to Amazon/Audible/iTunes for example -- but I can see why it's a necessary business model for them. There's not a ton of clarity on cost per hour for a book, but it looks like for a flat fee it starts around $250 per finished hour? So I'd probably be looking at minimum $1K out of pocket, which is probably roughly (I haven't done the math) royalties per book for a full year. It could be fun to give it a swing regardless, although reading the ACX site made me realize I'd actually have to give notes and feedback to a reader which sounds nervewracking.

It looks like the readers for ACX are repped by SAG-AFTRA, which means that for now I have time to consider while the strike is going on. (Obviously not all of them are union but if it's an entertainment format where the union is involved, I don't want to cross the picket.) And the ACX site is pretty comprehensive in terms of figuring out how it all works, so if I did want to source a narrator elsewhere and perhaps not distribute exclusively through ACX, I now have a grounding from which to research other options too.

Sorry, a lot of this is just me thinking aloud, but I truly do appreciate the info and also something to bounce off of in terms of considering it. And I appreciate the opportunity to share it with my readership too, thank you!

#genedoucette #shivadhverse #independent publishing #selfpub #audiobooks

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

Do you think the revs ever… well not regret taking sabo in but realize they had no clue what they were getting themselves into? They fish this poor boy out of the water and expect to be dealing with a sad little wet beast scarred in two ways by the world maybe with the drive to fight back and instead 5 years later have to consider if Cthulhu herself wasn’t letting her kids go for a swim and if they accidentally stole one because this thing can’t be human.

Do you think they have to disclaim to the fish man revs this is not normal human child behavior?

Yes to all that, but I think they also realize the positives outweigh the negatives in many ways.

I like to think that sabo is the rev's golden boy. Like they watched him grow up from just a 10 year old boy and progress so much to the point where he's been awarded the title Chief of Staff.

So this is what Wikipedia says a chief of staff is. What im getting from it through my terrible reading comprehension is that the one with this position works with planning, but mostly with the people of any rank. They make sure their staff is operating at optimal levels and is happy and content.

Solving problems? Mediate disputes? A confidant/advisor to the chief executive?

Sounds like this guy is just the bestie of the army. It sounds like to me, that this guy does such a good job at making people perform their best because he knows how his besties work. And in turn, his besties are like “i love this guy actually. He might be really fucking weird and he also might not have blinked in like a good 20 minutes, but he understands all of us. He takes the time to know us and appreciates us on a personal level. I feel like with this guy around we can do anything.”

And if there’s ONE THING we know about the revolutionary army, is that inspiring people is what they’re all about. That one scene with Belo Betty is a great example of the rev’s way of victory. They inspire people to fight for themselves.

The Rev’s don’t have millions of staff members, they only have one base. They cant be at every single place they start a revolution in to protect the citizens from what comes after revolting. So what they do, is they to teach them that they can be their own heroes, how to sustain by themselves, and most importantly, HOW TO UNIONIZE!!!!!

AND THATS THE FUCKIN BEAUTY OF SABO OKAY????

BECAUSE IF THIS GUY ?????👇

WAS ON YOUR TEAM. AND HE DID THIS SHIT???? WOULD YOU NOT FEEL INVINCIBLE FOLLOWING HIM????? WOULD YOU NOT FEEL LIKE YOUR BACK FUCKIN COVERED BY THIS ABSOLUTE BEAST????

Not everything he does is conventionally “correct”, but he gets the job done and he figures it out, okay??? Sometimes you have to just go running face first into a stream of gunfire to get👏shit👏done👏 and Sabo is more than willing to. On really any given occasion. He wants to. Please let him do it, he begs you.

Because what sabo exactly is inspiration. That’s what those three brothers are! They are inspiration. They are freedom. They are fire. They are hope. They are tragedy. They are One Piece. Quintessentially

T L D R:

Sabo is a force of nature and the rev army’s bestie. He may seem stupid and impulsive, but the reality is that he does what needs to be done with no hesitation. That man inspires many, knows his army, is strong as hell, and is just a great guy. Taking in Cthulhu’s baby was the best mistake they ever made.

He’s also absolutely clinically insane.

Thank you and good night [takes a bow]

Edit: im posting this right after i posted a pic of him painting his nails. The man’s got range, I’ll give him that.

#ask reply #sorry long post #im also not sorry though #i have a lot of feelings #@tani rani #long post #sabo

[omorinintendoswitchedition]

For that ask you reblogged about fandom opinions - 3 for DMC (and MGR if you want)

here is the absolute worst take I have ever seen about DMC on tumblr ever.

V’S ENTIRE FUCKING CHARACTER IS VERGIL REGRETTING WHAT HE DID FOR POWER. DID YOU SKIP THE MISSION 12 CUTSCENE OR WHAT??????

(Live fucking evidence of V admitting to Trish he (Vergil) was the one in the wrong)

Also Nero beats the absolute horseshit outta his dad but according to them that’s the universal sign of forgiveness and respect.

Nero never truly forgave Vergil for being a loser and calls him an idiot and flips him off. But sure whatever fits the box.

Also there was this post where someone analysed that scene and came up with the conclusion that Vergil never intended to fight his son in the first place. I can’t find it but it’s really good please send me the link if you can find it.

DMC5 is basically Vergil’s character arc of accepting his humanity and accepting that he is the shitty one and starting to change and heal. He was a shit human in the past I’ll give you that but he’s changing. He’s not some cold manipulator anymore, his emotions are genuine.

Also, I’m pretty sure the “my son means nothing to me” line was a mistranslation and he actually says something along the lines of “I have no son” but you might have to fact check me on that one.

But if that’s the correct translation, it was highly likely a “heat of the moment” thing that Vergil regrets when he actually comes face to face with his own son, based on his words later. “This has nothing to do with you, stay out of this” Vergil never truly wanted a battle with Nero, he doesn’t argue back at all, he just lets Nero scream at him about how he’s a terrible person.

Also the person who wrote that has apparently accused Vergil fans of being r*pe apologists, abuse apologists and of being racist and sexist and antisemitic or other random gross shit despite they themselves sending death and r*pe threats to people. Yeah it’s as dumb as it sounds.

TLDR:the reading comprehension devil grows stronger every day

#sunny answers #vergil dmc #devil may cry #v dmc #‘dmc fans are bending over their backs to defend vergil’ you’re bending over your back to hate on him #nero dmc #dmc5 #devil may cry 5 #don’t call someone an abuser and then turn around and threaten to r*pe people like dude cmon

[kunikinnie]

a/n: I LIVE! I LIIIIIVE it took one "I spotted Kuni's VA in the wild" moment to revert me back to my true unashamed self note: reader is female

58 + 1

You were always curious about the specifics of Kunikida’s infamous 58 Criteria for the Ideal Woman. It was one of those things that once you’ve heard of it, you just couldn’t get it out of your head. Seeing Atsushi’s reaction plus your not-so-little crush on your superior only heightened that interest.

Worse, despite your very best efforts to not intrude – of course, if he offered you to take a peek you wouldn’t hesitate – they were completely wasted the moment the opportunity arose.

“Don’t you want to read it?” The devil in the form of Dazai Osamu whispered in your ear, the spine of the notebook pointed at your stomach. “Your opinion is… valuable to him anyway, so why don’t you check it out?”

“I-I can’t-“

“Of course you can. You also may, dear. Trust me.”

You didn’t trust him. The chance that all he wanted was some entertainment for the day at your (and possibly his partner's) expense was more than likely…

Yet here you were, seated at your desk, flipping the delicate pages of Kunikida’s notebook.  

“Damn…”

It was exactly what you expected and completely on a whole other level at the same time. It was extremely comprehensive and oddly specific that you couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of him coming up with this nonsense in the first place. There’s no way he was still absolutely serious about this, was there? If he was, then-

Then what? Was that a good thing? A bad thing? What did that mean for you?

The sound of a loud gasp cut your train of thought.

“What the hell are you doing, Y/N?!“

Kunikida quickly swiped his notebook away from you. It annoyed him that you read it without permission – how could you do that to him? – but the moment he realized which portion you read, all of the anger vanished; all that was left was embarrassment and panic. How did the last person who should have ever read it have the very thing in her hands? What’s worse was the unreadable expression on your face.

“Why did- no wait, I-I can explain-“

You chuckled lightly. How could you even be so calm right now?! “There’s no need, Kunikida-san. I should be the one apologizing for peeking without asking you first.”

Despite that, the air only grew more tense. The thoughts rushing through both of your heads almost choked you both.

“If I may,” you continued. “I have a suggestion.”

“S-suggestion?”

“Yes. There’s one more ideal you can add, if you want.”

It wasn’t what he expected you to say, but he slowly took out his pen anyway. If the shame would never go away then he could at least follow your recommendation.

“59. Would still love me despite having read this list.”

He repeated your words as he scribbled it down, not noticing the subtle insult until he finally finished. You’re lucky he’s used to your teasing; otherwise, he might have cried on the spot.

“I-I’ll keep it in mind,” he said as he cleared his throat, trying to kill off the sudden blood flow to his face. “But why’d you think of that?” 

“At this rate it’s probably the only criterion I can meet, unfortunately.”

It didn’t even occur to you that you said it out loud until you saw his frozen but rapidly reddening face.   

“Kunikida-san, I have your next case here-“

The moment Haruno stepped in, you quickly bowed and left the office. Such terrible timing on your part, really. With how much of a mess you were right now, you weren’t sure if you could show yourself in front of him ever again.  

Well, it’s not like you had the time to decide anyway – just a few moments after you stepped out, a sharp tug on your arm forced you to once more confront his noticeably nervous and ridiculously red face.  

#bsd #kunikida doppo #kunikida x reader #kunikida x y/n #kunikida x you

[zalia]

Stop telling people we're dead...

I wasn't gonna say anything but I keep seeing it in fan spaces for various pieces of media after there's layoffs and it's driving me nuts. I may regret this since social media is where nuance and reading comprehension go to die but....

It's this sentiment people express that boils down to 'Well X person is gone so it's all terrible now/nothing good can be made again'.

The game industry especially fucking sucks right now for people who work in it (unless you're an executive for a big company :) ). It sucks for everyone laid off absolutely! I'm fucking angry and gutted on their behalf. The whole industry needs a massive overhaul. And unionisation. And for executives to be held accountable. This shit has destroyed lives.

It also sucks for everyone who is left behind after layoffs.

You know what makes it suck even worse? Seeing fans and the community of the thing you work on (and it's often something that you, the person working on it, care deeply about too) say that basically nothing you do matters. None of the hard work you put in over the past months or years counts or is any good, and nothing you make again can be any good. Often it comes with the addendum of 'this is because X person is gone'.

And X person is usually just the most publically visible person (and it is not in any way their fault! I'm so fucking angry on behalf of those people too! None of this is their fault). But dear god it fucking hurts to see people acting like everything you've done is worthless.

Trust me, the people left behind are just as, probably more, angry and upset than you. They've lost good coworkers, good teams, often good friends, and are having to pick up everything while worrying for their future job security. All while executives take home fat paycheques and often bonuses because they don't give a fuck as long as line goes up. Like, be angry, be pissed off at the executives and shareholders and fucking Bobby Kotick or whoever because they're garbage. But can we stop talking as though the people staying behind have never and will never again make anything that is good or enjoyable? That they never actually contributed anything to that thing you love?

Most games are not made by a single person. Most of them are a team effort, and losing any part of the team is awful. But it also means that everything you like and that is good about a game was a team effort. And a lot of the people who made the thing you like are still working hard to make the thing the best they can while they're angry and grieving and scared.

Acting like nothing they have done or will do matters or was part of the creativity that you loved just makes that harder. It fucking hurts.

Any script will usually have had multiple people working on it - writers yes, but also editors giving multiple rounds of feedback, people who make the script usable for recording. Someone who books the actors is not any less important than the actors themselves, or the sound editors. A soundtrack needs composers and musicians and sound engineers and they all contribute to the creative product.

I don't think anyone saying this is doing it maliciously, or really even believes it – it's a reaction to shitty circumstances and absolute garbage decisions by people who will always have too much money while doing very little, if any, creative work. It's people voicing their frustration, and I get it! I have said the same thing even when it was me, one of the people left behind, I was disparaging.

But god, every time I see it said my heart sinks, and it gets a bit harder to feel like anything I do is worthwhile.

And because social media is where nuance goes to die - no I'm not saying you have to keep loving/playing the thing! If it killed it for you, if it isn't giving you that spark of joy anymore, then stop! I encourage that! (There's a lot of people I can think of who could really stand to step away from things instead of playing until they burn out and can't distinguish between 'this is not bringing me joy anymore' and 'this is irredeemably bad'). But just... stop talking as if, for a piece of media made by a team, only certain members of that team actually count, and the rest are creatively bankrupt, were not part of the thing you loved, and are incapable of making anything good ever again.

#god I don't even know what to tag this as #meta #video games

[gentlemanbutch]

bitch I knooooow you are not comparing covid to fucking AIDS! Like there's gotta be some confusion cause ain't no way.

Congratulations for having terrible reading comprehension!

I said both AIDS and COVID fuck up your immune system and that it’s sad to see queer people ignoring it, when my generation constantly talk about how sad it is to not have elderly queer people in our lives because of AIDS.

Wow! What a wild comparison! What a wild thing of me to say. What a wild thing to feel disappointed by the ableism within my own community. Wild. Absolutely wild. 🙄

And there actually ARE a lot of parallels between COVID and AIDS (“parallels” doesn’t mean “it’s the exact same thing,” just to make sure you’re following), from how queer, BIPOC, and low income folks are more impacted, to some of the specific ways it harms your immune system, to how the media is underreporting/downplaying it, but I’m not going to waste my time spelling it out for someone who isn’t engaging in good faith.

#not to be petty but fuck off #if you’re going to purposefully misinterpret things I post fuck off #COVID is obviously not the same as AIDS but it DOES have similarities and you could actually educate yourself #or ask questions so others could help educate you. #COVID #COVID 19 #covid pandemic #COVID isn’t over #disability justice #disability rights

[arkiwii]

well, since i can't really draw or write Arknights stuff because I'm really charged this month, but the brainrot is still very strong, i decided to do a tierlist of my favorite operators!

explanations below the cut

i don't count alters on this tierlist, when I put a character I consider it's them + their alter version; the choice of if I picked the alter or not for the vignette is only based on aesthetic choices, really. also for comprehensive reasons, i tried to put all the related characters next to each other (like how the abyssal hunters are all next to each other)

My most beloved precious blorbos: this one speaks for itself, honestly. operators i absolutely love, that i think about almost on a daily basis, no minded doodles every so often, writing ideas poping up in my mind, big wall of text about how much i like them, autistic thoughts, you know the kind. i just love them very much, simply. originally, saria and ifrit were in the tier just below, since i considered that since i have silence as my favorite character, i did not need to also put them, but i learnt to love them individually rather than for what they represent to silence

Big smooch on their forehead: characters that i know very well the story of, and that I'm really attached! not to the point of being my all times favorites, but who spoke to me to a personal level, or that i used a lot in early game/still use today. i love to read about them and would love to draw or write more about them! justice knight is here as a honorary member

I think they're neat!: i don't know them that well, but i followed them in events, or did a bit of research about them for a reason or another, or simply one of my friends like them! and i do think they're neat, pretty interesting, not the kind i'd be absolutely attached to but i enjoy seeing them regardless :]

I would like to know more about them: feat Abyssal Hunters, the Nearls and Gavial's crew. they are characters i know a little bit about them or they are related to a character i love, but i got too lazy to read their event and files because it's too complicated, or too long, or whatever. but they are characters i know enough about to know i'll appreciate them! so im interested in knowing more about them

Here goes all the other operators, aka "I don't care or I forgot you exist": well, the tier's name once again speaks for itself. theres a ton of characters in that game, and I can't focus on every of them, especially when i started not that long ago. there's a lot that i genuinely just forget about, some that i know the story but i dont care that much to know more, and a few that i do wish to know more about! but not as much interesting as the tier above, so not my priority

I hate you /pos: (i ran out of colors) annoying ass characters with a shitty personalities but they're fun for the memes and i use them regardless (except tequila cause mlynar exists). not like actual hate, mostly affectionate hate, you know, like how you call your cat "stinky", but you still love your cat regardless. fact, at first i was genuinely uncomfortable with lappland, but then with il siracusano i started to feel better with her

I hate you /neg: characters i despise either for game reason or because their smug aura mocks me. phantom is because fuck him in is2 and his story is ehhh to me. gravel is because this character is seriously uncomfortable, for the love of god can you act normal, and i wouldn't mind her if she wasn't guaranteed with every fast redeploy tag. harmonie and ho'olheyak are just smug bitches. and ethan i just have a hate experience because i dont like using him and his voice + the music playing when he appears makes me so anger

Brother you can just die: Silverash tier. fuck you silverash. i don't like his face, i dont like using him, and i did not followed break the ice but i heard enough bullshit about him to know he's a terrible person. i hope i never roll him

#this is subjective as a reminder #not a gameplay tierlist or objective #i dont know every character! #so if you like a character i dont like #or that you dislike a character i like #then do whatever you want! its up to you! i dont care! they're characters! #anyway just wanted to share this cause its fun to know more about me #i think #arknights #parvis goes in the “brother you can just die” tier