#nobody is even going to see this post or care but whatever. i am Tired.

[riddlerosehearts]

i am so tired of seeing this screenshot about wish's ending reposted everywhere and used to make fun of the movie:

and this is coming from someone who didn't even like the movie very much, but this is misrepresenting what happened. yes, there is a thing where asha wears a cloak resembling that of the fairy godmother and at the end star makes her a magic wand and the kids say she's like a fairy godmother, king magnifico does get trapped in a mirror, etc, and the movie was absolutely filled with easter eggs and references to previous movies--yep, when i saw the movie i did in fact take these scenes as just easter eggs! after all, think about this logically, if all currently existing movies in the disney animated canon were meant to take place in the same universe, and asha canonically grows up to be cinderella's fairy godmother, then...

how can you explain such a drastic difference in appearance? how can you justify asha, a brown-skinned afro-hispanic girl with a face full of freckles and long brown hair, and this old white woman being the same person? you can't, because they're not!!!! if i recall correctly asha doesn't even wear that cloak at the end when they're calling her a fairy godmother, she just wears it during one scene when she's a fugitive and has to sneak around. also...

the creators of the movie have directly confirmed that they were not trying to set up a disney multiverse and that it's not meant to be taken that seriously. rapunzel and eugene's cameo in frozen also wasn't meant to be taken anywhere near as seriously as everyone took it. neither were any previous cameos like belle in hunchback of notre dame or aurora in oliver and company (and if aurora being in oliver and company was canon, she'd be over 600 years old!). and, back to wish specifically, the little easter egg earlier in the movie where magnifico sees a wish bubble from someone who wants the perfect nanny to take care of their kids and says he's "poppin' that one" also doesn't mean the banks family from mary poppins canonically lives in rosas. the scene at the end where a boy named peter who wears all green and dreams of creating a flying machine goes to work with a girl in a blue nightgown whose wish is to fly doesn't mean peter pan and wendy actually somehow lived together in rosas and knew each other before the movie peter pan ever happened. it is literally impossible for all of these movies to take place in the same time period and universe, so it's a good thing that they, uh, don't, and were never intended to. please, if you don't like the movie, that's perfectly fine, but don't say disney is trying to create some convoluted multiverse and "MCU-ify" their movies when that just literally isn't true.

#disney #wish #disney wish #ughhhh #wish 2023 #nobody is even going to see this post or care but whatever. i am Tired. #one person i explained this to said even they KNEW it was all just easter eggs but they hated the movie and wanted to shit on it #and like??? what is the point??? if you hate it that bad then make fun of it for something that's actually true at least 😭😭 #to be completely honest i feel like the fact that there is zero logical way for asha to be THE fairy godmother #should've tipped people off if nothing else!?!?!? #you can even tell that the cloaks aren't the exact same--asha's doesn't have sleeves and has purple inside the hood #anyway i'm so glad princess aurora really was literally there in the 1980s in oliver and company #even though she was born in the 1300s #we stan disney's first immortal vampire queen <3

[daincrediblegg]

no you know what I'm going to scream about the stuff I talked about in the tags of this post publicly

I'm tired of the well-meaning "don't feel bad if your work only gets 20 notes your genius is what counts and do it for you!" bullshit. I've had a good handful of friends who have straight up DEACTIVATED in recent months because their work was not getting reblogged AT ALL. No, it wasn't from lack of not being well-liked, no it wasn't from lack of trying to make sure it was getting out there to the people they knew would engage with it. It was because no matter how much they were praised privately for their work, when push came to shove, absolutely NOBODY reblogged it and gave it the audience that it was due, and I'm tired of people shoving the "unsung genius" narrative as an excuse for it. Nothing excuses that. And the boop event really proved that.

because I know given the opportunity, indiscriminately pressing a button (sometimes 10 thousand times, as I did) is not beyond this website's capability. y'all loved doing that. and look at what it wrought. nothing but love and affection and happiness. just from a couple of quick clicks of a little paw button. sure. nobody knew who you booped but the other person (which is how likes used to work on this website, btw). there was an element of anonymity to it. but that is kind of the core of this website that no other social media platform still has: the ability to be anonymous. and hyper-curating a blog on here like you might on twitter or instagram to project an image is simply not viable. and hey. you wanna know a secret: literally nobody cares what you post or whether it goes with the "theme" of your blog or not. yeah. I know. CRAZY concept in this day and age. but literally. I myself have reblogged things that have had nothing to do with whatever I am currently fixated by and you know what happened to my follower count? not a damn thing. in fact, I actively try to reblog things specifically BECAUSE it's my friends who made them (even though I'm not always good at KEEPING UP WITH HOW MUCH THEY POST @prismatica-the-strange will NEVER GO UNRECOGNIZED by me).

And you know what fucking sucks? I have to deal with this too. surprise right? you ever wonder why I reblog fics or art I post like 20 times the day that I post them? do you ever wonder why I ask about tag lists and beg for asks all the time? IT'S BECAUSE EVEN I GET LIKE. 5 LIKES ON THE THINGS I POST. AND THE REST OF THE REBLOGS ARE MINE SO I CAN MAKE SURE THAT PEOPLE WHO WANT TO SEE WHAT I MAKE GET TO SEE IT. and I say that knowing that I'm certainly not an unpopular blog, or an unpopular writer. I know that people love the stories that I create. Hell, half of the people that I've talked to about lady terror have told me that they consider her to be canon (AND EVEN SOME!! THOUGHT SHE WAS!!! WITHOUT EVEN HAVING WATCHED THE SHOW! WHICH IS STILL SO SO WILD TO ME!!!) But especially in the last 4 years (which really dates this phenomenon), my posts, no matter how well received they've been amongst people I've talked to about them directly, I still go into the notes and at least half (often more than half) are MY reblogs to make sure people saw what I posted. and it happens every single time, and I can't tell you how much it crushes me considering that it used to be that I would be able to post it only once, and people would reblog it sometimes even HUNDREDS of times.

It's not about popularity. it never has been. it's not about anxiety. or shifting website cultures. even if you lurk, the simple fact is, that if you want people to keep making what you love. you have to reblog. your theme won't suffer because you reblogged a fanfiction that you really admire. your posting won't be ruined because you reblogged some fanart from someone in a different fandom. really. I promise. and if people do unfollow you for that? who needs em. followers come and go but you should NEVER have to cater to them. on this website it has ALWAYS been the other way around. lean into it. make it yours. put stuff you ACTUALLY WANT to be seen and that you love and appreciate on your blog. no matter how old it is, how new it is, no matter how niche or off-theme it is.

so please. if you really want to show your appreciation for someone's work? you reblog. it's really as easy as that. check the tags. add some when you reblog if you like. but please for the love of god reblog. it's as easy as booping and even more rewarding for the people who you reblog from. if you want to let someone know that their work is genius and appreciate it? show it. reblog. then DM them if you're too nervous to say what you want to say but not in a public forum. but for christ's sake. REBLOG.

#fanfiction #fanart #reblogging #boop

[nights-flying-fox]

Mystic Sickness Part 1

This is based on @turtleblogatlast 's post about mystic sickness idea :D Hope you like it!!!

Word Count: 2178 ☆ Fandom: rottmnt ☆ Warnings: a brief mention of throwing up, nothing else i can think of ^^ ☆ AO3 Link: N/A

 Raph has had his bad mornings. He had been sick from overworking too. With how he felt today, he could tell it was a mix of both.

 

 Except it turned out there was more than that. It must be, or else why would a clone of himself stare at him like that?

 

 Raph yelped as he fell from the bed. "What the-?!"

 

 His copy didn't seem to care. It lay on his bed, not even looking at Raph. The turtle blinked in confusion. That was definitely his own ninpo copy. Why was it here, and why was it moving like that? Raph tried to focus and control it, just like he always did, but he failed. The copy still lay on the bed.

 

 He stared at him. Raph was too tired for that, not to mention how early it was-

 

 "AH-"

 

 Raph turned around. "Leo?"

 

 There was nobody else in his room though.

 

 "Is this some sort of joke?" Raph grunted. "If so, Raph's going back to bed and leavin' you to deal with today's plans alone. All day."

 

 "RAPH NO-"

 

 He turned around again, looking everywhere searching for his brother. Again, nothing.

 

 "I am really not in the mood for pranks-"

 

 Suddenly Leo appeared in front of him, "RAPH HELP I-" and disappeared.

 

 Raph looked at the empty spot where a second ago his brother stood. First his own copy, now Leo. What was going on?

 

 "RAAAAAPH!!" 

 

 Raph groaned, “WHAT IS IT DONNIE?”

 

 “WHAT THE HECK ARE YOUR COPIES DOING?!”

 

 His copies? Raph glanced at his copy on his bed before leaving his room and heading to the living room. He had many ideas, most of them nonsense considering his tired and hazy mind. But nothing could’ve prepared him for this:

 

 Many copies of himself running around, accidentally breaking some stuff, some sitting in random places... Donnie was standing at the other entrance, looking tired and angry. Pissed off even.

 

 He noticed Raph looking. “Dear brother, may you explain what is going on during such an early hour that you have decided bring out a whole army of yous?”

 

 “It is not me...” Raph mumbled as he walked towards Donnie, not being able to look away from the chaos going on in the room.

 

 “They are your copies though. Can’t you control them?” Donnie pointed out. “Genuinely asking. I am too tired to be salty.”

 

 “I tried but it is not working.” Raph tried again, failing. Then gave his full attention to Donnie, “You are tired too?”

 

 “I suspect I have caught a cold.” He nodded.

 

 “Me too. I’ve been feeling down since I woke up.”

 

 “Groan. It better not be some sort of illness.” Donnie said.

 

 “As long as it is not rat flu, it will be okay.” Raph reassured.

 

 Donnie shuddered. “Rat flu. Let’s forget about the failure and move on to our current problem.”

 

 “Cold or them?” Raph asked.

 

 “...” Donnie stared at nothing before answering. A usual sign of Donnie being sick. “Yes.”

 

 “Okay, okay. Sickness. Leo has the most knowledge about this.” Raph said out loud. “I’ll go and ask him.”

 

 “Mhm.” Donnie had already begun walking towards the kitchen.

 

 Raph started walking towards Leo’s room, ignoring the messy hallway. Since when did they have all that stuff and who was responsible for this mess? Probably his clones... When he reached to the room, “Leo?” he called. He received no reply. Raph didn’t bother asking again. He walked in, not caring about Leo’s upcoming protests. Except there was none because Leo wasn’t in there. “What?..”

 

 Oh. Right, he had seen Leo for a second in his room for a second. He had appeared and disappeared as if teleporting. But Raph didn’t remember seeing his katanas. He glanced around and saw the swords near his bed on the ground. He was right.

 

 What did this mean?.. What was going on this morning?? Raph began getting annoyed with whatever was going on. Not to mention how anxious he started feeling not finding Leo in his room. Where was he?

 

 Maybe he was with Mikey. Maybe they were doing some stupid prank.

 

 Raph a bit faster from before left the room and began walking towards Mikey’s room. Normally Mikey would be up, making breakfast. But if he and Donnie were right, he should be in his room resting. As he stepped into Mikey’s room, he hopped to see him and Leo doing some sort of mischief.

 

 Instead, he found Mikey levitating, golden chains around him, asleep.

 

 “What the shell?!”

 

 Mikey yawned, blinking. “Mmmmmorning Raphie!” He smiled, being the morning person he was. “Is there any possibility you let me sleep a bit more?”

 

 “Mikey, you are flying.”

 

 “What?”

 

 “Look around, Mike.”

 

 Mikey did. In a second his expression shifted from confused to shocked to excited to panicked. “I AM FLYING!”

 

 “THAT’S WHAT I AM SAYING!” Raph yelled. “GET BACK TO THE GROUND NOW.”

 

 “I DON’T KNOW HOW TO!”

 

 “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW?!”

 

 “Boys, what is all this yelling for?..” Raph heard Splinter’s voice come from behind. Then he heard a gasp. “ORANGE WHY ARE YOU LEVIATING?”

 

 “I have no idea.” Mikey answered. He noticed the chains around him, “Oooh I also have no idea what these are but cool.”

 

 Raph took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. First things first. Pops, have you seen Leo?”

 

 “Uh- no. No, I haven’t.” Splinter turned his attention to Raph, less surprised and more worried.

 

 “Mikey, did you see him?”

 

 “Nope!”

 

 So Leo was lost. Don’t panic Raph. He is probably somewhere around here, he thought. “I’ll text April.”

 

 “Red, is everythin—”

 

 Suddenly, just like how it happened in Raph’s room, Leo appeared in the room. He looked very puzzled, tired, annoyed, and a bit panicked. Before Raph could be sure, Leo disappeared again.

 

 His voice, however, was heard from another room. “COME ON!!”

 

 And then from another room, they heard him again. Raph couldn’t make up the words but he sounded irritated.

 

 “Was that Leo?” Mikey asked.

 

 “Yes.” Raph answered, still very confused.

 

 “Where did he go?”

 

 “I don’t know.”

 

 “Boys, what is going on?” Splinter sounded serious.

 

 Raph sadly didn’t have a proper answer. “That’s what I am trying to figure out.” He sighed. “Can you check Donnie? He is in the kitchen and said that he felt sick too.”

 

 “I will be waiting you two there.” Splinter nodded. “I’ll look around for Blue on the way.”

 “CAN SOMEONE—”

 

 Leo’s voice came from his room.

 

 “—HELP ME—”

 

 This time from somewhere closer.

 

 “I think I can handle him.” Raph said.

 

 Splinter smiled, “I’ll make you chicken soup.”

 

 “Thanks Dad.”

 

 As Splinter left, Raph reached for Mikey. Grabbing his blanket, he pulled him closer to him. Mikey watched him with sleepy eyes. “Raphie, can we sleep more?”

 

 “No, Big Man. We need to help Leo first, and then we need to eat something.” Raph said softly, walking out of the room meanwhile. Mikey huffed but didn’t protest. Raph decided to find Leo following his voice: “Leo? Where are you?”

 

 “RAPH! Bathroom—” Suddenly his voice was cut. Then continued from somewhere else, “Never mind. I-” Another pause. The Leo calmly yelled, “I’ll go insane.”

 

 “What’s happening?” Raph shouted.

 

 “I keep teleported-” “-without wanting-” “-to every second.”

 

 “That sounds bad.”

 

 “You don’t say-” “DONNIE IS THA-” “THAT WAS MY MUG!!”

 

 At least Leo didn't teleport out of the lair.

 

 "I think we should call Draxum." Mikey hummed, somehow unbothered.

 

 "Wha- why?" Splinter's reaction hadn't changed even after everything. 

 

 "He knows about mystic stuff." Mikey said lazily. It reminded Raph of how he was when he had eaten one of the poisoned pizza puffs.

 

 "You think this is because of a mystic problem?" Raph asked.

 

 "I know it is because of a mystic problem." Mikey confirmed. 

 

 "How?"

 

 "Can't you feel it? Hm?"

 

 Raph wasn't sure what he was supposed to feel. Donnie leaned towards them, goggles on his eyes. "He is right. There is something wrong with our mystic energies." 

 

 "I'm calling Draxum." Raph announced. 

 

 "Already on it." Donnie interrupted. He, from out of nowhere, had found his phone and was calling the yokai. 

 

 "Please tell me you're solving this." Leo appeared next to Raph, not looking good.

 

 "We're calling Draxum." Mikey smiled.

 

 "Oh good, because I- hrk-" 

 

 Luckily before he could throw up, he disappeared. 

 

 "We need you here. No, we didn't put the world in danger. We aren't dying either. No, we aren't calling you so you can cook us your new abomination. Abomination as a strange creature made of food, i.e. Sloppy Joseph. No, I'm not talking about your food. Yes. There's a problem with our ninpo. Okay, goodbye." Donnie put the phone on the table. "He'll be here soon." 

 

 "Good… Donnie, what's that?" Raph pointed at the tech that wasn't on the table a second ago. 

 

 "Ah. A piece for my new project. Why?"

 

 "When did you bring it here?"

 

 "...I didn't."

 

 "What do you mean I didn't?" 

 

 Donnie raised a brow. "I didn't bring it here. I was thinking about it and it appeared." 

 

 "Appeared?"

 

 Donnie shrugged.

 

 "Since when do things appear when you think of them, Dee?" Raph questioned.

 

 "That's a talent of mine, dear Raphael. My ninpo is very unique in comparison to yours–" Donnie began explaining.

 

 "Since when do they appear without you controlling them?" Raph corrected his own question.

 

 "Ah. Yes, that would be… since last night." 

 

 "And you didn't think of telling us?" Raph was losing his patience, to be honest.

 

 "I didn't think it would be a problem." Donnie admitted.

 

 Raph wanted to break the table. "You thought it wouldn't be a problem." He repeated. "And what if you accidentally create something deadly?" 

 

 "Come on Raph, he creates something deadly all the time." Mikey chimed in. "Like pipe bombs." 

 

 "Mikey, don't!" But Raph was too late. A pipe bomb was formed next to Donnie's mug. 

 

 "None of us is dumb enough to use a pipe bomb, we will be fine." Donnie stated. Then took a sip from his tea. 

 

 Raph wasn't sure about that. He trusted his brothers, but he also knew how much of a trouble they could be. 

 

 Leo appeared among them again. "Dee, I'd suggest you not enter your lab." He said tiredly. 

 

 "Nardo, what did you do to my lab?" Donnie looked at him with a mixture of horror and anger.

 

"Adiós." He made a peace sign and disappeared again.

 

 Donnie immediately opened his phone to check the cameras inside his laboratory. Raph could see the fury in his eyes. Maybe Leo was lucky to be teleported every second, now that he got on Donnie's hit list. 

 

 Splinter put bowls of chicken soup in front of them, "You boys look terrible."

 

 "Thanks." Raph sighed.

 

 "You'll feel much better after my delicious soup." He said. "Now, only if Blue could join us…"

 

 The soup was warm and smelled delicious. Raph couldn't wait to taste it. He would already, if he hadn't noticed his copy coming in. Ninpo Raph walked towards them, stood by them, then took the pipe bomb and ran.

 

 "What the-?! HEY STOP!" Raph got up and ran after him, leaving Mikey to float again.

 

 He chased his clone back to the living room, but it was hard to catch yourself. Especially in a room full of yourself. He stopped, trying to find which one was the right clone. When he did, he was leaving towards the bathroom. Raph didn't waste time following him. Before he reached him though, someone made his copy trip and fell. 

 

 "This yours, Boss Man?" Leo asked.

 

 "Yep." And with a punch, poof the copy disappeared. "Thanks."

 

 "Save me some soup." Leo said before getting teleported again. 

  

 "I will." Raph sighed, taking the pipe bomb from the ground. He could hide it in his room for now. Then go back and drink some soup so he can focus on the situation better when Draxum arrives. Perfect plan.

 

 He quickly walked to his room, found a nice place to hide it, and proceeded to grab his mask and stuff. Then he remembered the transceivers Donnie had put on their gear. They could use this to communicate with Leo! If only Leo can stand in a place for a moment. Raph still thought it was worth a try, so he went to Leo’s room to get his stuff as well before returning to the kitchen.

 

 Donnie had dozed off on the table with a few weapons and tech things that Raph didn’t know their names around him. Mikey was still floating, also sleeping. He seemed to be fine though. Splinter was enjoying his own bowl of soup. Raph sat down and finally tasted the soup. It was delicious, as always, even though it wasn’t warm anymore.

 

 “Did you boys mess up with somebody evil again?” Splinter asked Raph.

 

 “No, we were training and patroling the past few days.” He answered. “That’s what I don’t understand too.”

 

 “Hmm...”

 

 “Don’t worry, Pops. I am sure it is something Draxum can explain. Then we can fix it all at once and then rest.”

#hope this turned out good i wrote this in a night and then got too nervous thinking it is not good enough XD #i most likely will write part 2 once i have wifi!! :] #rottmnt #sickfic #rottmnt fanfiction #btw remember how sick leo had carsickness... yeah getting teleported every second cant help that #nighty writey #unpause rottmnt #save rottmnt #rise season 3 #very funny how i wrote this right after recovering from a cold #also shoutout to the pipe bomb casey jr meme for the pipe bomb joke #me talking w my mom about a place serving soup for breakfast: who would even want to have soup for breakfast? #also me not a second earlier: *writes splinter making soup for breakfastK #* #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt splinter

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

full hc request: platonic m6 with mc who is going through a break up after a long term relationship and is just down in the dumps and crying at random times and m6 just make them feel better

The Arcana HCs: M6 comforting MC after a bad breakup

~ @elysian-chaos here you go, lil sis, I hope you like these and that you receive whatever comfort you're needing from them :) ~

Julian

So, here's the thing: healthy coping mechanisms are not his forte

Yes, he wants to see you happy, yes, he wants to see you heal, yes, he wants to bring you comfort

Offering to get blackout drunk with you is not the best way to accomplish that and he doesn't realize it until he sees the look on your face and hears himself make the offer

... tell you what, you tell him what you're hoping to accomplish, and he'll try to use that big brain of his to find a way to do it

Assuming you're of age, he's still going to offer you a little alcohol, if only to make it easier to talk about things more freely

If he figures out that hugging you helps, then he's giving you hugs every time you're sad (and considering how all encompassing they are, it's very good for making you feel a little whole again)

No matter how messy or weird things were, there is zero judgement coming from this guy. He's had his own share of toxic/questionable/inadvisable/problematic situationships

Nobody knows poor self-esteem like he does and he's quick to nip any kind of self-punishment in the bud

Never gets tired of hearing you talk about it and is not at all fazed by messy crying. He's a doctor, bodily fluids are normal, and he's happy to use his handkerchief to dry your tears and blow your nose

Asra

Genuinely one of the best people you could ever go to for comfort. They're here, they've got you, they love you unconditionally, and they will always prioritize your feelings and personal wellbeing

So many hugs and cuddles. He'll curl up with you in a pile of soft pillows and blankets and hold you for as long as you need to cry

Whatever you want to do to cope, they'll do it with you and somehow find a way to make it even more comforting

If you want to talk about it, he'll brew your favorite tea and give it to you in one of those big, two-handed mugs so you have something warm to hold and focus on

If you want to get back at your breakup, they'll come up with all kinds of devious tricks to make their life inconvenient

If you just want to cry it out into a tub of ice cream while you watch movies, he'll grab some pumpkin bread to go with it and keep his shoulder and some tissues handy to cry on

There's no space to feel down about yourself. They will beat any negativity to the punch and heap you with more words of affirmation than you really know what to do with

There's no such thing as a "bad time" for him. He starts trips at midnight, if you wake up lonely at 2 AM he's down to wander through the dark streets with you until you can sleep again

Nadia

She's a little ... torn

She cares about you very much and wants to see you happy

Which is why seeing you cry gives her both the urge to make you smile again and to track down whoever's responsible and serve them some sweet, sweet justice

Talking to her about it is great if you want perspective and analysis on what went wrong, and really really great if you want solutions and strategies to help you move on

But Nadia is a fixer. She has a hard time listening to pain when she feels like there's something she can do about it, and an even harder time when it involves someone important to her crying

She'll end up pampering the daylights out of you

Seriously, you deserve good things, after going through something so painful she wants you to remember what it's like to be treated according to the value you truly hold as a person

She'll take you on platonic dates to boost your confidence and spoil you out of your low self-esteem

And hey, if it's a post-relationship makeover you need, say no more

She'll take you shopping for your new look, she'll help you pick out the new hair, she'll let you smell all of her scents if you want to switch to a different perfume/cologne. She's got you

Muriel

He's ... not great with words. He knows this. You know this. We all know this. Talking it out is not his thing

However, if you just need a quiet, safe space to detach from everything and fall apart for a bit, he can relate perfectly. Stay as long as you need to, sleep as much as you need to, but don't yell

If you want to yell, just let him know so he can take you to a better yelling spot that doesn't involve stressing out the chickens

He's not going to initiate much comfort, because he's not sure what you want, so if you do want hugs you'll have to ask

But he will make you soup. And eggs. And egg soup. And some of the weird tea Asra left lying around several years ago (actually wait, let him try it first, he doesn't know what it does or if it's still good)

And he will bring you plenty of blankets to wrap up in and mountains of firewood to keep the hut warm and cozy

If you want to talk about it, he'll listen. Depending on how messy it got, you might get a slightly judgy look here and there, but it's you he cares about and it's you he's listening to

Speaking of, he can hold a grudge. Whoever broke your heart is going to get some major stinkeye from him if they ever meet

Inanna's not a lapdog, but she's a cuddler if you need it. She can and will curl up on top of you if you need the comfort

Portia

Portia's an exceptionally empathetic person. It's what makes her so good at connecting with people across divides and seeing things from multiple perspectives

It's also what makes her cry almost as much as you do when you go through your breakup. If your heart is broken then so is hers

Which is why she is the best buddy for joining you in your sorrows and keeping you company. She will watch the sappy movies with you. She will eat the tubs of ice cream with you

She will get absolutely furious with your ex and curse them out until she's red in the face with you. She will offer to help you sabotage their future attempts at romantic connections with you

(don't let her do that last thing, she's going to accomplish it a little too effectively and then you'll both live with the guilt)

(unless of course said ex has a pattern of being seriously toxic/cruel to their partners, in which case, go ahead with the Countess's blessing and let her know if you'll need legal backup)

Bear hugs. The biggest, tightest, comfiest bear hugs

And self-care, when you're done with the ice cream and movies. She can set up an impressive at-home spa day

Pepi will follow you all around the cottage and even give you the honor of curling up and falling asleep on your lap. Don't move

Editing to add:

Lucio

Lucio doesn't have the easiest time processing his emotions, much less helping somebody else process theirs. He's very happy to help you but it's not going to be conventional by any means

You look angry. He'll take you somewhere good for sparring so you can let the aggressive feelings out instead of thinking about them

You look sad. Would you like him to throw you a party to cheer up?

Not even a distraction party? Not even a "good riddance" party? Not even a "I'm going to show off how many friends I have and how good I look in this outfit so they know what they lost" party? No?

Huh. You really don't process stuff the way he does, then

On the other hand, he will take your side no matter how messy it got. You're the best, you're his favorite person, and therefore anybody who causes you suffering is clearly in the wrong

Surprisingly good at giving you pep talks. He's a charismatic guy and he wholeheartedly believes every good thing he says about you

You're the best. End of discussion

He gets really uncomfortable if he sees you crying though. He just hates seeing you sad and he hates not knowing what to do about it

Mercedes and Melchior, on the other had, will lick your tears away until the only thing left on your face is dog slobber

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

[sailing-through-hawkins]

saw this post and it reminded me of a snippet I wrote for a crack-ish Kas!Eddie AU idea i had a while ago ft. nobody knowing Steve has demobat venom in him that tells other democreatures he's a friend:

Imagine Eddie coming back as an undead vampiric bat person thing and he's all "oh how you left me behind" and shit and he's surrounded by demodogs and demobats and they're poised ready to strike at his command and -

"Eddie?" Dustin whispers like his heart's been broken. Steve's grip on the nail-bat (he still refuses to give it a name because it's not a person, Robin) falters but he steels himself - the kid is gonna be vulnerable, now more than ever and he's gotta keep him safe.

"Oh Henderson." The thing wearing Eddie's face grins the same way Eddie grinned, with a promise of chaos at his fingertips. "Not anymore."

So Eddie sets the democreatures to attack and Steve shoves Dustin behind him while he tries to fight them off but they overpower him until he's on the floor except -

The scratches and bites aren't happening. He's just - drowning in slobber? And very weird bits of flesh just, like weirdly pushing at him oh god, this is so weird. Steve squints one eye open and sees all the gross creatures nuzzling at his arms and chest like they're just innocent mutant hellbeasts who didn't mean to break the vase.

"Wh - I said attack, dipshits!" Kas yells out and that seems to just...make them nuzzle harder? Steve doesn't know, okay, he's been through a lot and he's just tired. So tired that he doesn't even register how one of the demodogs bumps his hand up onto its closed head (a phrase Steve doesn't and will never fucking like) or the fact that he just...pets it like it seems to ask. The other beasts apparently all really like that and run over each other trying to get under his hands.

"S-Steve?"

"What's up Henderson?" Steve tries not to laugh as one of the littler creatures topples upside down after it tried climbing his leg. He sets it right side up and gives it a big long pet along its back, holding back his shiver at the slimy skin. "Y'know when they're not trying to eat you, these things aren't half-bad."

"You always manage to fuck things up, huh Harrington?" Suddenly Kas is right in front of him, pushing him back onto the ground harshly with a hand on his throat. Steve idly wonders if the guy has a thing for necks. Maybe Steve just has a very targetable one? "You ruin everything, don't you?"

He then wonders if it's the high from not being ripped apart coupled with the excess adrenaline in his veins. There should definitely be a stinging in his chest from the words but he's just...god, he's just so tired right now. The other creatures are making weird, pitiful noises around the two of them.

"There there," Steve chokes out, raising a head to pet at Kas' very angry head. The vicious eyes go blank. "You just needed some attention, huh?"

Steve thinks he hears Dustin spluttering somewhere but his vision is already blacking out. Shit, he's supposed to take care of Dustin. Nope, no time to black out now. The hands, kinda claws really, around his neck loosen and Steve blinks the big splots of darkness out of his head just to open his eyes to Kas or Eddie or whatever staring at him with like...it's kind of what Steve thinks he looks like when Dustin tries explaining his latest strategy for a campaign. Incomprehension? But funnier because Eddie doesn't look like he's trying to understand, he looks like his head is just totally empty, no thoughts. Scratch that, this is hilarious.

"Doing alright, Munson?" Steve coughs out, his voice wrangled from the...wrangling. He continues to pet the hulking figure above him, moving his hand behind Eddie's ear. "Am I getting the right spot?"

The blankness in Eddie's face turns into a bright purplish blush (that means he's still got blood in him, right? or is it some kind of Vecna juice? Ew gross, no, don't think about that) and he scutters back away from Steve, who's once again surrounded by the various monsters as they yip or whatever the fuck sound monsters make. He finally manages to sit back up, no thanks to Henderson, the little shit just watching the whole thing in a corner with a fucking notepad are you kidding me -

"D-don't come any closer!" Eddie holds a hand out as Steve gets himself on two feet, his back against the wall like Steve's the one who was strangling him, oh fuck you Munson. "I have - I'll bring a parade of pain on you, Harrington, I swear it!"

Steve snorts as he pets one of the demodogs, hoping to god it doesn't eat his hand. "Yeah, okay, Kas, sure. You wanna do that now or after you give these guys a bath?"

And Eddie is basically half-angry because NO HE IS KAS HE IS A GENERAL HE WILL BRING HELL UPON YOU ALL, half-smitten because omg hiiii stevie wow do you feel a connection right now because i definitely do i think this is like fate or something

#steddie #au content: kas!eddie #concepts #writing #ficlet #less than a ficlet and more of an idea turned into a mini-scene #when i wrote this i forgot dart was a thing so if anybody thinks i should have mentioned him shhhhh i know #this is basically crack treated seriously so don't think about it too hard and just enjoy the ride #sailor✧scribbles

[trash-king18]

m pt. 18

ok ok i know there’s been so much back and forth between these too but for some reason i just couldn’t get past the idea of writing miguel and y/n without including the plot of atsv and the real issues with miguel’s behavior so this part and the next will lead up to the events of the second movie before ending the series with the aftermath and a quick explanation of what i imagine will happen in beyond-tsv

but i will continue posting bits and pieces that can either be read separately or as part of the future of their relationship after this bc i am obsessed with these two atp.

cw: hangover, some smut, more marking, big fight, breakup?

————

you woke up with a tequila headache two missed calls and someone banging on your door.

you were still exhausted, and groggy.

“Y/N”

you groan and pull yourself out of bed

“Y/N are you here”

you open the door holding your head

“ay dios m��o stop banging please”

“did i wake you up”

“what do you think”

he pushes into your apartment

“uhh ok, what are you doing here”

“you weren’t answering me and.. i didn’t want to track your watch so i just came to check”

“ohh he does learn”

he flashes you and annoyed look

“is that my shirt”

“uhm.. i guess. i must’ve brought it with me on accident”

“oh uh huh definitely an accident”

“i’m not arguing with you this morning my head is killing me”

“i thought you were babysitting”

“i was.. and then i ended up babysitting a bottle with my sister”

“is that why you didn’t answer me”

“uh i didn’t see it until super late, figured you were asleep by then”

“i didn’t sleep last night had to clean up after the mess gwen made last night. besides still could’ve texted, so i didn’t have to come banging on your door.”

“nobody asked you to do that.. hold on what did gwen do?”

“don’t worry about it that’s a work thing, we’ll talk about it at work”

“but i want to know now. is she ok?”

“ay mi cariño don’t be like that. she’s fine. but seriously i wanted to talk to you”

you were suddenly feeling defensive, your talk last night with crystal had you feeling cautious about letting things get too close.

“we’re not together we don’t need to debrief every time we hookup”

“hey what’s up with the attitude”

“i don’t have an attitude i’m just hung over and tired”

“..you need food”

“don’t start with that again i told you i don’t get hangry”

“mmhm right” he starts pushing you towards your bed room “go lay back down”

you don’t fight him about that you’re eyes are still full of sleep so you just climb back in bed.

you’re half asleep when he comes in with empanadas and water

you eat but you refuse to let him think he was right so even though you feel better you just lay back down with a huff

but you feel him crawling onto the bed and you look up

“someone should really teach you not to just climb into someone’s bed without an invitation”

he just lays down next to you and pulls the covers down before he begins slowly pulling the fabric of the t shirt up.

“what are you doing”

“i was interrupted..very abruptly yesterday. i still need to finish”

he continues pulling your shirt up to reveal your tits but you push it back down

“finish what?”

he doesn’t even seem to care as he moves your hand away and pulls it back up again

“this”

he presumes to get back on top of you pulling your legs around him as his hand comes up to grope your tit and he begins kissing the other.

you tell yourself to push him off but it feels good, he feels good.

he sucks your nipple into his mouth which makes you moan despite yourself

“así es, tu cuerpo me necesitas”

that’s right, your body needs me

“i don’t- fuck- think i’m the needy one here”

“No soy necesitado”

i’m not needy

he looks up slightly offended

you look at him unconvinced but he rolls his eyes before continuing, switching to the other side

“estoy atento”

im attentive

“whatever you need to tell yourself”

he ignores you playing with your skin and leaving more marks all over your chest. he finally pulls back satisfied and just looks over you

he says quietly “perfecta”

“are you finished now”

“mm” he sits back and pulls you up with him sitting you on his lap “por que me apuras”

why do you rush me

he wraps his arms around you

“porque no volviste anoche”

why didn’t you come back last night

“i did i got here at like 130”

he gives you an exasperated look “Eso no es lo que quiero decir”

that’s not what what i meant

“i wanted to sleep in my own bed”

“Podría haber venido”

i could’ve come over

“Miguel.. we’re not a couple..”

“and yet.. sigues terminando en mi cama”

you keep ending up in my bed

“i’m being serious right now. we can’t keep doing this”

he let’s go suddenly

“what”

you gently remove yourself from him.

“the hookups, the fights, the sleepovers. it’s messy enough now but given… our pasts this will never be more than that”

“our pasts.”

“we’ve lost too much, and our lives now are too complicated this.. whatever it is.. doesn’t work”

a look of anger takes over his face “we’ve lost?”

“yes”

“your brother died, i lost an entire universe”

“don’t talk about my brother”

“you brought it up”

“you know what i’d ~like~ to bring up”

“id love to know”

“the fact that you only lost that universe because you didn’t belong there”

his face falls and then he looks angry again.

“what did you just say”

“you might not have done it on purpose, and it may hurt just as bad, but honestly i’m tired of you projecting your guilt and cannon theory onto every other spider person in attempts to come to terms with what you’ve lost because you can’t deal with the fact that your world imploded and you don’t actually know why”

he gets up

“and don’t even think about yelling at me, you know it’s true but nobody else has the balls to say it”

he stares at you seething

“don’t come in to work this week”

“what are you firing me now because i told you the truth”

“don’t.”

and then he just walks out slamming the door behind himself

——

“well. thats one way to break up with a guy. get him so mad he essentially does it for you i mean really genius. i applaud you”

“we didn’t break up, we weren’t together”

“uh yeah- you were. maybe not in the normal healthy people way but that was a relationship”

“well it’s over now and i think it’s time i start looking for jobs in this dimension”

“seriously”

“what?”

“no way you’re gonna except going from helping superheroes hold the fabric of the universe..es together to working at a boring lab with a bunch of normal people”

“i don’t think i really have a choice anymore”

“there’s always s choice mana. if he’s as smart as he seems to be he’ll come around

“maybe”

“but you’re welcome to stay here until things blow over”

she goes to take the boys to the bus stop and head to work leaving you alone

lyla calls.

“hey.. so about you and miguel”

“what? there is no me and miguel”

“y/n please i know. i’ve known”

“well it’s over now so it doesn’t matter anyway. do you need me to come in?”

“uhh i wouldn’t. he’s upset right now, about what you said”

“why you think i was wrong too”

“i think it’s been a long time since miguel has thought about what happened with anything other than blind rage and self blame. give him time hon he’ll come around, until then i’ll keep you updated and do my best to keep him.. contained”

“thanks lyla”

“of course y/n… Oh! and one more thing gwen went to visit miles when she was supposed to be on a mission”

“she did?! why would she do that?”

“i don’t know, but things are getting a little hectic here.”

“if he- if you need me for anything call me”

“i will”

“good luck”

“you too”

————

taglist:

@urmotherswhor3 @kirke-is-my-name @rexxesgirl @simp4miguell @urmomisafinewoman @dammittjanet @cheezit-luv3rr @miggyyyyohara @polireader

#across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel x reader #miguel x y/n #spiderman 2099 #atsv #miguel ohara #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara smut

[princessefemmelesbian]

The Lesbophobia on this site is really getting out of hand.

All you have to do is say that lesbians do not fuck men in order to be attacked, dogpiled, and called a terf! It’s sickening!

Take this asswipe for example:

I see lesbophobes are intentionally deciding not to have basic reading comprehension.

“Does your ability to fuck men just disappear” Ain’t nobody said that lesbians are physically incapable of fucking men. When we say that lesbians can’t fuck men we’re saying that we don’t want to because we’re not sexually attracted to them. And we’re saying that if you���re a woman who fucks men then you can’t be a lesbian by definition. You can’t be a lesbian and also enjoy fucking men. Stop intentionally warping and misrepresenting our words because you want to jump through hoops to erase our identity. You’re all so fucking stupid. And at this point I think you assholes know you don’t have an argument so that’s why you have to resort to these “semantics”.

“Lesbians can do whatever they want including fucking the occasional man if it makes them happy” y’all are just blatantly spouting false bullshit at this point omfg what part of LESBIANS AREN’T ATTRACTED TO MEN DON’T YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND?! No fucking men doesn’t make us happy because then we wouldn’t be lesbians fool, but you know who it does make happy? Men. Because men fantasize about getting into lesbians’ pants and robbing the one group of women and non-binary people who do not desire or identify as men of that right to unavailability to men. They get off to the idea of a woman they are attracted to but who isn’t attracted to their gender having that lack of attraction overridden and being forced to make themselves accessible to men. And you guys are giving these men more validity, so yeah. Thanks for that.

”You don’t speak for all lesbians” bitch I know for a fact that all lesbians are unattracted to men and want nothing whatsoever to do with men in the slightest. We don’t want to have sex with or marry or date a man whether cis trans nonbinary or whatever the fuck. Because we’re not attracted to men, which because you’re a lesbophobic idiot I apparently have to fucking spell out for you. Show me a “lesbian” who is attracted to men and I can guarantee you that they aren’t actually a lesbian because ACTUAL LESBIANS aren’t into men. That’s just how it is. That’s just life. It’s our sexuality and if you can’t respect that then just go step on a Lego.

God I am so sick and tired of y’all.

Also this dumb bitch @/mlembug decided it would be a good idea to screenshot my friends’ posts about lesbophobia, and this other idiotic fucking clown named @/theotin reblogged from mlembug and tagged it #radfems. When all the posts did was say that lesbians are not attracted to men, to not interact with them if you are a bi “lesbian” or “les”boy, and that the lgbt community needs to pay more attention to lesbophobia in the community and that lesbians shouldn’t be the only ones calling lesbophobia out. One of them was even explicitly in support of trans people and including trans women in lesbianism! (Although I’m friends with these people so I know for a fact that they are all trans-accepting and despise transmisogyny, just like most of the lesbian community, mind you) And yet they were all called radfems for the vile sin of being lesbians and calling out lesbophobia. At this point you guys are just saying the quiet part out loud. You all hate lesbians for existing. It doesn’t matter if we’re explicitly against transphobia of all sorts. You don’t actually care about defending trans people. You just hate lesbians for not being attracted to men and try to pretend/convince us that we are and you’re unashamed of it. Disgusting.

I can’t believe how widespread the lesbophobia on this site is. But then again, I’m also not surprised. Keep entertaining yourselves with your pathetic little daydreams that lesbians can fuck men because you’d rather have something in common with cishet men who watch corrective rape porn than us. Just don’t be surprised when the “mean” lesbians don’t wanna be friends with your stupid, annoying, sorry asses.

#i’m tired of trying to be nice to these people #you want me to be the mean lesbian fine i’ll BE the mean lesbian #and people wonder why lesbians are so ‘mean’ to everybody maybe it’s because you hoes were all mean to us first! #dumbasses #lesbian #lesbophobia #anti-bi lesbian #anti-mspec lesbian #anti-lesboy #tw men #tw corrective rape #blocklist #op

[imliterallylegobatman]

listen the fuck up, i think (HOPE) all of yall are antifa on here, but for WHATEVER REASON, the only time y'all care about fascism is when it happens in countries you know a lot about. I'm tired of the only political shit discussed being America or some fucking western European country.

there's a very prominent neo-nazi party in georgia (WHICH MY CLASSMATE IS A PART OF????), with extreme conservative and puritan views. see the armbands and the flag in the back? that's the georgian neo-nazi symbol. don't ask me why the faces are blurred, my source for this is the nazi classmate himself, and he blurred it.

brief summary of how this sorry excuse of an organization formed: they broke into a nightclub because "DANCING IS SINFUL", destroyed the club obviously, beat up everyone who was there (girls, guys, university students, bartenders, EVERYONE). where was the police, you may ask? one of them was drunk and JOINED these shitheads, the rest showed up hours later for "unrelated reasons" and pretended none of it happened. you'll see that cops doing jack shit will become a reoccurring theme in this post. this all branches from the extreme upholding of "orthodox christian values" - they're doing all this in "God's name", AND THE CHURCH SUPPORTS IT. obviously, fascism in Georgia existed even before these fucking cunts, but they're growing stronger and recruiting more people these days.

SO, WHAT PROMPTED ME TO MAKE THIS POST? these days, they've gotten more physically aggressive. here are some examples:

they asked a random guy in the streets about his opinion on fascism, when he said he doesn't like it (FUCKING OBVIOUSLY), they beat him up (the police did JACK SHIT and pretended that the part security cameras glitched out WHEN THE NAZIS LITERALLY FILMED A VIDEO OF THEM DOING IT)

they killed a dog and kept beating it after death, and they beat up cats in the street (they filmed these as a video too)

they beat up the leader of a governmental organization Girchi, which is the most progressive party we have right now (with anti-governmental, anti-russian, and antifa anarchistic ideologies)

the Girchi leader was supposed to hold a lecture about politics for kids and uni students at a summer camp thing, and the nazis ATTACKED THE CAMPSITE AND THREW STONES AT PEOPLE.

update on the first one: an armed man in civilian clothes entered his HOSPITAL ROOM, some women tried to stop him, TURNS OUT HE WAS A COP, AND NOW THE POLICE IS PRESSING CHARGES FOR "ATTACKING A POLICE OFFICER"??????

1 - They didn't know he was a cop, 2 - they didn't even attack him just tried to stop him from going to the kid's bed because he was a threat, 3 - HOW THE FUCK ELSE WOULD YOU REACT IF A STRANGER WITH A GUN ENTERED YOUR KID'S HOSPITAL ROOM AND TRIED TO GO NEAR HIM?????

anyways, this shit is scary. the nazi party is recruiting minors, like my classmate, so that if they ever get arrested, the minors will have to be released because OBVIOUSLY nobody's gonna HAVE A 14 YEAR OLD ROT IN PRISON. even if they were all adults, as i mentioned, the police don't care, because they're doing this in the name of Christianity. they're posting xenophobic, homophobic, conservative and very christian nazi bullshit so that they can make people believe that they want what's best for people, BECAUSE THEY KNOW THAT THE MAJORITY OF GEORGIA SHARES THOSE IDEOLOGIES. their name is literally "Geo National Unity" TO MAKE IT SEEM LIKE THEY'RE DOING THIS TO "HELP" US. EVEN IF THEIR IDEAS WERE MORALLY CORRECT, WHY THE FUCK AREN'T THEY BEHIND BARS FOR WHAT THEY'RE DOING??

i know I'm not the most coherent source of information, i know this just looks like a stupid rant, but this information isn't accessible in English, which means NOBODY OTHER THAN US GEORGIANS KNOWS WHATS GOING ON. the later this shit stops, the more fascists there'll be in Georgia, because no one wants to put a stop to this. cops are fucking pigs, as always.

I AM SO FUCKING SICK OF THIS. I'M TIRED OF SEEING SWASTIKA GRAFFITI ON WALLS AND SCHOOL DESKS. I'M SICK OF FEELING THREATENED JUST BECAUSE I'M OPENLY ANTI-NAZI AND SOMEWHAT OPENLY QUEER. I'M SICK OF RELIGION BEING AN EXCUSE FOR THESE FUCKING DEGENERATES. NOBODYS DOING ANYTHING ABOUT IT. I'm sorry for getting fucking emotional on a post that's supposed to be informational, but SOMEONE had to fucking say it. progressive people in non-western countries are in fucking hell, because nobody acknowledges any problems in places that doesn't concern them. anyways please fucking reblog this, for awareness and for help and what-fucking-ever. thank you for reading.

#acab #geo national unity #neo nazis #antifa #let me know what other tags i can use for this so people actually fucking see it #georgian politics

[phxntomsdusk]

i love you all, i hope you know that. even if we barely speak, even if we only like each other’s post, even if you only follow me. i love you.

life has its ups and downs, it’s lefts and rights, it’s 180’s and 360’s. not everything can be a solid paved road, going straight into a picture perfect suburban neighborhood, that you can call home.

sometimes it has potholes, the houses are old and rundown, the grass is dying and the trees all lost their leaves years ago. but you can still manage to call this place home.

you have to look past the holes in the road, they’ll get filled at some point, not by you but by the township. they have to take care of their roads, not you.

the houses may be old and rundown, but as long as yours is safe enough to live in, and you have a roof over your head, don’t worry about others. you can check in and ask if their okay, you can provide help, even take them inside your home for a little; but don’t strain yourself into rebuilding their home from scratch. it’s theirs, not yours.

the many yards that have turned grey and brown aren’t your concern, take care of yours and make sure it’s green and bright, the flowers blossom each spring and wilt beautifully in the fall. you can water the other people’s yard’s, but again, it’s not your responsibility. it’s theirs, not yours.

it is nice to help everyone once in a while when they’re situation in tough, but you have to remember your conditions as well.

do you live in that picture perfect neighborhood? or are you in the old rundown double wide? is the grass green or gray? the trees tall and lively, or fallen and dead?

by this whole thing i mean to ask, are you okay? are you able to wake up in the morning and smile because you’re here? are you able to see the importance of true person you looks back at you in the mirror?

or do you ignore it all to help others? slowly fogging up the reflection you see in the glass, unable to see the beauty and importance your own self holds.

dont feel selfish for helping yourself first. you are the most important person in your own life, because without you, there’s nobody there.

if i say so myself, i’m proud of you. for waking up, for getting out of bed, for eating and drinking, for breathing, for having a smile on your face. whatever it is, i’m proud of you for being here. i’m proud of you for being alive. i’m proud of you for existing. you are amazing and you have to see that.

the person in the reflection isn’t what your negative thoughts think. that person in the reflection is beautiful and amazing. that person is someone’s favorite person. that person puts a smile on other’s faces by simply walking by. that person has a purpose to fulfill, and you may be doing it right now without realizing it.

even if life feels like you’re not doing much right now and you’re simply there, trust me, you’re not. life is far too short to sit around and think of what could have been. sure, dreams can be insane and unrealistic, but who cares? make mistakes, start over, do it until you’re tired and your joints are aching.

be proud of yourself for trying. for being here. for existing. love yourself for breathing and being you.

and if you’re not proud of yourself, i am. if you can’t love yourself, i do.

#phxntom talks #i love you all #<3

[magicaloneandmystery]

I hope you remember me. (p.p. x reader)

warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, reader has been dead for quite some time, grieving, angst angst angst

summary: a look at Peter's life after you're gone.

pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x gn!reader

a/n: I was supposed to post this a week or so ago but then I didn't like it but then I do like it now it's a whole mess. anyways, READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

word count: around 800, I suppose

your laughter reverberated in Peter's mind as his eyes opened slowly to the sun shining through his window. he didn't remember the dream, but whatever it was, it included your happiness. he was glad for that. for a few moments of consciousness, he lived in a world where you were beside him.

the dream came crashing when he remembered his reality.

your side of the bed was empty, bedsheet neat and tucked. it was untouched, only a single framed photo of the two of you resting on your pillow. 

Peter had hoped had he not touched your side, left it as it is, your scent would remain in his room longer. time was never merciful, though. it had faded a long time ago. he was scared of your memories fading in his mind just like that. would he be able to fight time, then? 

he reached out, his fingers resting on your face. in the photo, that is.

good morning, he heard some past version of himself coo to you.

too early, you would grumble.

it was weird, he could never sleep well before you. with you, he slept perfectly fine, well rested and quite energetic. after you, though… he slept a lot, but he never felt remotely energised. never fresh, never like he got enough sleep, even on days he would sleep 10 hours in a stretch.

May was starting to get worried, he could tell from her weekly visits. once she would have scolded him for not sleeping enough. now he was being pitied for always sleeping. Peter didn't understand what the world wanted from him. 

the visits were another thing that had changed. where he would go to visit his aunt at least once a week, even taking you, he had stopped altogether once you were gone. you were so fucking engraved in his life that it was hard to do anything remotely personal without being flooded by your memories. a week after your funeral, May had dropped in to take care of him. it had become "tradition" once she realised that was the only time he would talk to someone about anything. 

she would come by, see his apartment barely used, as if nobody resided there, and get Peter to socialise with someone, even if it was merely his legal guardian from when he was a teenager. they would recount their week, the silence being filled mostly by May. occasionally, Peter would talk about his work or something he would encounter that you would've loved. loved to hear about, loved to do, loved for him to do, and so on. 

weekdayss were easier on Peter to get through. he would wake up, get ready, work, come back, sleep. wake up, get ready, work, come back, sleep. an easy routine. on weekends, he was forced to sit alone with his thoughts. 

thoughts that drifted back to you all the damn time. he was tired, frankly, but his guilt every time this thought popped up in his head was insurmountable. he could never tire of you. he'll never let you fade away. it was his last promise to you.

well, to your grave. he hasn't visited it once after the funeral. he wonders if he'll ever garner the courage to do so.

what would he even say?

I am sorry spider-man failed you. the one time you needed me there, I wasn't, and I'll spend the rest of my life repenting. please forgive me. please come back. I need you. you promised to always be there. come back, please. 

yeah, no thanks. he'd much rather not think about the night he was working late in his lab and got a call from his neighbor about a fire in the apartment and how you were not able to escape before the fire had blocked the exits. 

 he remembers coming home to a bunch of emergency vehicles scattered all around, an overwhelming amount of red. the fire, the trucks, the uniforms. everybody looked red.

your body was covered in red, too, when they brought you out.

he doesn't remember much except cradling your face in his lap, asking you to wake up.

wake up, dammit, I'm right here. c'mon, love. please.

next thing he remembers is standing in the hospital as May wrapped him in her embrace, holding him tightly. he remembers thinking if this is some kind of nightmare, but the wetness pooling on his shirt where May's head rested didn't seem like a manifestation of his mind.

he remembers seeing your body in the morgue. they had cleaned you up and your burns were hidden more or less. your face was pretty clear apart from a few cuts. you looked like you were sleeping. he willed you, one last time, to wake up and laugh this off as some sick prank. I won't be mad, (Y/N), but please. I can't take this anymore.

when they left the morgue was when he cried for the first time since everything.

Harry sat with him as he cried in his car outside in the parking lot, the seriousness of it all settling in. now, he cried every night.

he kissed the photo under his hands good morning, getting out of his bed and walking to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

it was much easier thinking about the tasks his boss had told him about last week than about the drowning feeling he got every time his thoughts turned to you.

thank you so much for reading, reblogs and comments are much appreciated :)

I feel like most of the fics I write come out of this horrible headspace but lately that headspace has been ALL I'm experiencing so you might get some more fics that talk about r's death or anything along those lines? idk, if someone out there needs them or something :/

(tho I really hope you don't)

#tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker x y/n #andrew garfield x you #peter parker x you #tasm!peter fanfiction #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter parker x y/n #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter fic #peter parker fanfiction

[shouldhavebeenpersephone]

I Want You by Mitski is a Camilla Hect song.

This song is meant to be about one-sided romantic love or whatever, I don't care I don't care I don't care. Cam and Pal are platonic soulmates/codependent idiots and this is about them actually.

Hear me out.

Throughout NtN we see Cam repeatedly wanting Palamedes there. When Nona accidentally hears their recorded conversations, she expresses that she does not care if she gets hurt - she wants Palamedes to exist still. ("I've carried you, Warden. And I've carried your memory... I'd rather carry you")

[verse 1]

I want you

I hold one card

That I can't use

But I want you

Palamedes still existing is also a huge advantage they have that the BOE is unaware of. Pal being in Camilla's body especially helps, because he is less likely to be hurt by Varun and can basically peek out whenever needed - except he can't. The one time Pal and Cam join forces, Camilla goes into thanergy shock. He is of no real use to them except sentimental, he is eating at her from within and yet she still carries him. Additionally we get a double meaning here; Camilla is forced to appear mournful and not show her cards to hide Palamedes and keep him safe.

Flashback time to post-GtN! The image of Camilla walking into the room Palamedes exploded in haunts me on a daily basis. This verse can be taken both literally and figuratively.

[verse 2]

I found you

I found the door

But when I stepped through

There was no floor

Literally: Canaan House was old as shit. Palamedes blowing the floor out along with himself is much more likely than the room remaining unharmed. Yet she risked her life, scaled a half sunken-in room, probably had to scrape Palamedes' remains off the walls, and she reassembled him. No matter how ready she could have been, nobody can be ready for something like that.

Figuratively is what I find a bit more appealing though. In the short story Tamsyn wrote about the Sixth as young teens, it's so painfully evident that these two do not know how to exist apart from each other. Super unhealthy I wish it were me. For example, Camilla has a lot of things figured out, but she relies on Palamedes to piece it together. Palamedes knows how to work a puzzle, but he relies on Camilla to be his eyes and ears. Camilla notes that he enjoys 'teaching' her, but to me it came across more like neurodivergent "same hat" behaviour - he knows that Camilla is thinking the same thing. They know each other so well, that when something is obvious to him, he doesn't even need to consider Camilla might have to be told what he is thinking - she might, however, have input he hadn't yet considered. When Camilla finds him and sees that he was successful (and thus that he is gone), her foundation she has had for most of her life is gone. They were each other's flesh. Each other's end. Without him, there is nothing, no future, no ground to stand on.

And then they find Ianthe Naberius and grabbing his opportunity Palamedes is back - sort of. He is back, and she is dying, and they can act together again, and she is so relieved, and she is so tired. It is the end of the world. They are going to open the Tomb and whatever is in there will be the Emperor's death, and he is the world.

[pre-chorus]

You're coming back

And it's the end of the world

We're starting over

And I love you, darling

And I am done, dear

But also - it is the end of Palamedes, the end of her world. They have thought this through, they know what they are attempting, they know what it will take, they know they will not make it out. But the key here is that neither of them will make it out. They are ending, and they are ending together, and they are starting over, and Paul is born from the ashes. There is also something special, to me, about the comparison between And I love you, darling/And I am done, dear and Life is too short and love is too long. Camilla is very actively dying. Palamedes is ready to gamble with his own life the moment he knows there is no other way out for Camilla. And they love each other. And they are done. And it's that life-outlasting love that creates Paul.

And here, we are taken back again. I see the house as Camilla's inner world, and the car as her outer world (think DID, when alters are not fronting, they recede to an inner world which for many people is some sort of house I believe). Camilla is in the driver's seat, and Palamedes is inside, and he is so close, yet she cannot just go in and meet him. I wonder if they dreamt together. I wonder if they could see each other at all while Camilla too was in her own subconscious. I wonder I wonder I wonder, and I cannot help but think they could not.

[chorus]

You're in the house

And I am here in the car

I just need a quiet place

Where I can scream

How I love you

And then I remember the chapter where Nona kisses her knuckle for the first time. When Camilla sits in the dark bathroom, curled up in the bathtub - for hours. I wonder if she ever came back with her own hand cradling her face. I wonder if she ever cherished the ache of her wrist because Palamedes is left-handed and she is not. I wonder if she ever woke up to the print of Palamedes in her frame on the mattress.

#sorry to ramble but I am so unwell about this #in this house its camilla hect hours 24/7 #gideon the ninth spoilers #harrow the ninth spoilers #nona the ninth spoilers #the locked tomb spoilers #tlt spoilers #the locked tomb #tlt #camilla hect #palamedes sextus #mitski #Ash does TLT

[sweetestbaby]

something that i am seeing on pretty much any post about the genocide in gaza that gets any traction on tumblr is people replying things along the lines of "well if you care about palestinians so much then how about [another oppressed minority]" or "unless you also speak up about [another injustice] then stop talking about palestine" and let me tell you: this is a diversion technique and a meaningless argument. do not feel intimidated by these people and do not feel guilty about it

you do not have to be a political scientist or an experienced activist to look at injustice and feel the need to talk about it and support the oppressed. if you've never engaged with any political activism in your life for whatever reason but this particular event in history has ignited you into action however small that action may be, this is perfectly fine. if this is your first time becoming so engaged with a cause, this is also perfectly fine. we all start somewhere!

and another thing: this idea that you have to be morally superior or engaged with every single bad thing that comes across your dashboard in order to be "allowed" to speak on injustices or engage in activism is not only untrue but it is factually ineffective. it has been proven time and time again that focused effort is the way to go with activism. nobody can fix everything, know about every issue, worry about every injustice. you are a single person. you cannot be everywhere doing everything

i have been a local activist for most of my life, focusing on issues that happen in my city and metropolitan area, and in my personal experience, the people who try and be a "jack of all causes" are usually the people who least engage with effective, actually transformative activism. these are usually the people who will reblog a lot, retweet a lot, know a lot of buzzwords and casual discourse, maybe join a demonstration or two (so long as there is no police), but will not really dive deeply into any historical research, any study of ideology, and will claim they are "too tired", "sick of humanity", "feeling too hopeless to keep the fight" and will go on "a social media break" to work on their "activism burnout"

supporting a cause is not a club. there is no acceptance criteria, no exams to pass, no membership cards to be taken from you. you're not a hero and you will not heal the world by yourself. if someone sees you revolt against injustice and they try to tell you that you should not be talking about that injustice for whatever reason, the simple truth is that they just don't want to see you talk about that injustice. don't give in to these types. and if i can advise you further, don't even waste your energy engaging with them. FOCUS ON THE CAUSE AS THE SINGLE HUMAN PERSON THAT YOU ARE

#from the river to the sea palestine will be free #free gaza #free palestine #boycott israel #boycott divest sanction

[silentreigns]

Australian GP 2023 Reflection that nobody asked for

I don't even know where to start. I started watching the race in the middle of it, and at that point George's car just caught on fire. Charles and Alex were already out and I was so confused. I had such high hopes for them and to see them taken out so early made me so sad. But little did I know about the amount of fuckery I was about to witness.

First of all, if there is a red flag with less than 5 laps to go, the race should finish under a safetycar. The FIA keeps putting the theatrics before the drivers' safety and it's so tired. Like we could have avoided the Alpines getting taken out and Pierre & Esteban getting the points they rightfully deserved. All the drivers were talking about how hard it is to get temperature into the tires. This was a disaster just waiting to happen.

Carlos did not deserve the 5 second penalty. Max hadn't even completed the first sector of his lap when the race was red-flagged. And I am still confused as to why it seems that the lap counted but it didn't at the same time. Lance and Fernando were given their positions back so I don't know why the penalty was enforced. Like we all have our differences but I think we can all agree that it is not fair to give 1 driver a penalty when there were like 4 other incidents to happen in the same timeframe.

Logan Sargeant rammed his car into Nyck de Vries, not even an investigation. If the FIA had braincells they would be giving Sargeant a grid penalty, but it won't make much of a difference since it's a Williams and the car is a tractor (although Alex is making the most out of it). Lance and Charles had a racing incident and nobody was penalized. Pierre locked up and crashed into Esteban and no further action was taken. I mean, y'all saw the same footage so like what's the tea???

The McLaren didn't even make much gains pace-wise but they went from 10th to 5th in the championships. Like how is it possible that they're ahead of the Alpines when the Alpines were matching pace with the Ferraris? But good for Lando and Oscar, you could tell they were mentally and emotionally distraught from the first couple of races. They stayed out of trouble and I cannot fault them for it. Oscar getting his first points in his first home GP is a feel-good story that we needed. But I am salty because Pierre was in 5th and it was going to be his best finish in his new team.

One positive to take away from this is that Lewis got a podium despite not feeling connected to the car. He's getting closer and closer to another race win and I am so excited with what he can do in Baku. George complaining about Lewis racing him is whatever because Lewis was under pressure from Max and Fernando so of course he's gonna be fighting for his life. A lot of TeamLH find George annoying but all I see is George trying to make a name for himself. Like the best way to do that is to challenge yourself against the GOAT. And as long as Lewis ain't upset by it then why should I care?

Another positive is that Yuki & Zhou got their points. I feel like if Yuki finished p11 again he would have self-destructed. Now I just want the other rookies to get a chance at points so we can have another season where everyone scores.

Also Max not lining up on the grid "properly": to me it does not make sense for it to be allowed that the car touches the white line. Like in track & field, you're not allowed to do that, you have to be behind the white line. So that was my reasoning for posting about it initially. Also I wanted Lewis to win something and I can admit that. I ain't taking back my initial post though it's kinda funny seeing the responses to it.

#formula 1 #f1 #australian gp 2023 #ooooweeeeeee this was a lot and i still have more to say. maybe i should make a part 2 #lewis hamilton #george russell #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #max verstappen #fernando alonso #pierre gasly #esteban ocon #lando norris #oscar piastri #yuki tsunoda #lance stroll #logan sargeant #nyck de vries #i aint even have a chance to talk about checo LMAO #or nico hulkenberg #too much happened i cant believe what i witnessed and its been like 12 hours #alex albon #zhou guanyu

[miaoniuu]

There is an organized network of groomers who have been operating in plain sight for over a decade on 4chan. There has been one confirmed murder, many confirmed s*xual exploitations and two potential drug related deaths. I don’t know where to talk about this anymore. I am so scared for these girls.

I made a post on Reddit about a network of groomers that exist on Discord, Endchan and 4chan and have been operating in the open for over a decade and it has been a whirlwind. 3 posts highly upvoted and subsequently removed, multiple death threats of course, and some participants saying conflicting things. Psyops, outrage, emotional contagion, politics, this one really has it all apparently.

I’m going to send you the formatted post below directly because, again, this post is being removed very fast over and over despite the intense attention and concern.

There are girls actively in danger.

——————————————————

There is an organized network of groomers who have been operating in plain sight for over a decade on 4chan. There has been one confirmed murder, many confirmed sexual exploitations and two potential drug related deaths. I don’t know where to talk about this anymore. I am so scared for these girls.

I could write a million paragraphs like I have done for years but I’m just tired, and nothing has ever come from it. No matter how many documents and and all the direct evidence I provide, it seems that this isn’t really an issue people care about, but I am not ever going to give up on these girls.

A lot of these girls are from broken homes and deal with poverty, mental illness, previous child grooming or molestation and the circle of predators knows this well, because they recognize patterns in posting from those types of disadvantaged minors and they hunt them down accordingly.

Here is the first thing you need to see. These are the current girls being targeted. Two of them are minors.

I have reported this to MissingKids, to ISPs, relevant local authorities, I have tried getting in touch with parents, I’ve tried sending this to content creators, I have exhausted every tool I have and my mental fortitude is limited. It feels like nobody cares.

From here on out, I’m listing three names of the most egregious cases, posting archives and I will do small descriptions but I don’t even know what I can say anymore at this point. It all feels so pointless at times. Some of these girls have been cyberstalked and doxxed for nearly a decade, starting when they were minors.

Ciara “Eliza” Horan - possible OD death, possibly in hiding. Whatever the truth is, does not want to be found. Please respect that. Has ties to Jet Neptune which is relevant in the next description. Her underage nudes were leaked regularly.

Relevant image: Ciara & Jet + obituary

Marky J Thompson - groomed by Sam Hyde, a public figure who committed statutory r*pe against her. When she came out to the public with this, he launched a smear campaign making derogatory and disgusting sexual skits about her on YouTube. Her underage nudes have been leaked countless times. Jet Neptune is a long time friend, a technical producer, and basically the shadow of Sam Hyde. You’ll never hear about Jet without Sam being mentioned along with it. Marky and Ciara were on and off friends. Jet and Sam are directly linked to both.

Relevant image 「EXTREME NSFW WARNING」: tr*nsphobia, ab*se, r*pe, r*cism, extensive vulgarity (I did not make this, it was written and compiled by someone on Twitter

Bianca Devins - I don’t want to spend too much time on this one and I have no need to link or compile because it is just horribly depressing and on top of that, it’s public enough to learn most of what needs to be learned on your own. There is still an active smear campaign against her happening despite her being dead.

orbiters - predatory individuals who mistake a controlling obsession with something poetic like limerence.

/r9k/ - revived instance of 4chan’s original Robot9000 board, where every post had to be an original post.

Endchan - dedicated board pertaining to 4chan’s e-girls, both active and past, alive and deceased.

I have archived the entire Endchan board, updated as of today. I have downloaded the files in case of deletion as well. I’m working on a timeline and organized document. I will be archiving and downloading every post I make to document any and all deletions and takedowns, and expanding more on this post as time goes on.

You can find the current version of the archived board here. Extreme NSFW, very long + trigger warning.

#4chan #endchan #bianca devins #r9k #grooming #predator #sexualassault #mental health #mental illness #murder #tw death #tw rap3 #tw overdose #egirl #depressing shit #depression #borderline personality disorder #bpd #stalker #doxxing #tw stalking #please help #crime #urgent #fish tank #fishtank #sam hyde

[an-idiot-in-fandoms]

Dead! / Chapter 1: I’m Not Okay (I Promise)

a/n: decided to post it on here as well cuz i am excited for this one gurls

Story Summary:  If you're going to die, then you have to live. And I don't mean that in a wishy-washy sense; I mean that you need to make the world your bitch.

Or, alternatively, you've just been diagnosed with lung cancer, and want to live your last years to your fullest. You're determined to make Jason Todd understand the gift of life while you're at it.

-

Chapter Summary: “You like D&D, Audrey Hepburn, Fangoria, Harry Houdini and croquet. You can’t swim, you can’t dance and you don’t know karate. Face it, you’re never gonna make it.”

“I don’t wanna make it. I just wanna—”

or,

You’re introduced to Jason Todd when you’re fifteen, and emo.

By god, your school was an ugly building. Back in your youth, you could recall seeing the structure for the first time, and being utterly unimpressed by the four pillars outside, to curate a poorly made knock off Greek House.

Knock offs can be good. Sometimes even better than the original. But this, this was even more pathetic than your self esteem.

“It looks like a prep’s wet dream,” you had said out loud, right in front of your father, as you’d sat next to him in the seat of your car.

He’d frowned, and given you a harsh look, “Behave yourself. You’re no longer a child, and you need to act your age. I have worked very hard in order to get you into Gotham Academy, and I expect you not to bring shame to our family. Don’t bring any of this… ‘emo’ nonsense into your studies, do you understand?”

You’d rolled your head sideways, to fix him with a blank, irritated stare; he had looked right back, with a vicious look of discontent, expecting a polite, submissive ‘yes daddy’. Instead, your lips curled into a sickeningly smug smirk — “What’s my age again?”

Before your father could blow a fuse at your impudence, you’d hopped out of the car, and ran into the ugly hub of education, your red tie fluttering in the wind (against the dress code), and your shoes scuffed. Even as a twelve year old, your philosophy had always been to never take yourself that seriously, so you never did, and did whatever the damn fuck you wanted.

Immature impudence? Revenge against your neglectful parents? You decide.

In any case, you began your new life, having finally been released from the clutches of homeschooling, and quickly made yourself a menace. The age of tween is a precarious one, and at that point you wanted nothing more than to wreak havoc on everything and everyone, till the world bowed down at your feet, while you sat on a throne made from the discombobulated limbs of your enemies, and drank blood from a skull like Byron. You didn’t know what your end goal was, but one thing was for sure, right now you wanted anarchy, misery and destruction.

For now, though, you’d have to make do with just being the quiet kid at the back of the class, and make hissing noises whenever somebody approached you.

Needless to say, you didn’t make many friends. By the time you were fifteen, you were a lone wolf, who was (just about) known for standing in front of the glass cabinet of trophies at eight am, whilst putting on red eyeshadow, stolen from your mother’s dressing table.

Some people jeered at you; some people ignored you; some people were scared of you, and spread wild rumours about you being in a vampiric cult, and that was why you always looked tired. The truth was a little less extravagant, and these kids were but a few minority — to the rest of the students, you were nobody.

That wasn’t your objective anyway, you told yourself, as you sipped your juice, sitting on the front steps outside the building at lunch. You just insisted on getting out of the house so you wouldn’t have to hear them fucking arguing all the time.

What even is it with them? If they’re unhappy together, they should get a divorce. I wouldn’t care. They’ve never cared about me, they adopted me to look good, so I don’t care about them. They’re just my sugar parents at this point.

Heh, that’s actually funny. Maybe I should poison them and I’ll inherit all their money.

A shout pulled you unwillingly from your thoughts, and you reluctantly looked up to see where the noise was coming from; instantly, your mouth dropped, as you stared up in complete astonishment, at the boy who was standing in the window sill directly to your right, on the second floor. You took a brief moment to survey his features — a somewhat toughened, confident face, with curly black hair that sat atop his head as if he were a sheep.

Who was he? Wasn’t he that new guy from a month ago? You weren’t in any of his classes, and he was in the year below you, so you’d never bothered to find out. Something relating to Bruce Wayne, you believed, if your eavesdropping was accurate…

… off topic. For now, the question had to be why the everloving fuck was he two inches from belly flopping onto the courtyard?

Encouraging whoots came from behind him, and you could vaguely make out the words; “Do it, street scum! Show us how tough you really are!”

The boy glanced behind him, obviously riled up by the derogatory remarks thrown his way, but none  to his credit, for it only made him further determined to do something stupid. “I will! I’ll fucking show all you rich pricks!” he yelled (you had to admire his grit).

Then, you watched, almost in slow motion, as he pushed himself off the ledge, and jumped; time seemed to come to a halt at that moment, as you gazed up at him, his blazer fluttering like a pair of wings, his scarlet socks becoming streaks, that wound through the air tracking his journey, like fluttering silk ribbons. His eyes were a fearless, shining bluish green, that reflected the autumn sun imperfectly, scattering little specks of light across his irises, and glancing off his shoes in tiny blows.

You could swear that he was flying, then.

But, as if somebody had clipped his wings, he fell, and landed hard on the ground with a hysterical crack!, right on his leg. The agonising scream he let out snapped you out of your stupor, and you stood up, quick to rush over to him, and kneel by his side — several other students ran over as well.

“Are you alright, Mr Wayne?!” one girl cried out, daintly pressing her hand to his chest, in a gesture so pathetic and obviously overexaggerated in order to gain approval that it made you sick to your stomach.

Your eyebrow twitched in irritation. “Of course he’s not,” you barked at her, with a scowl. “He just jumped out the second fucking floor. What he needs is a doctor, so go ring the nurse bell and get a damn teacher!”

She froze for a moment, before hastily getting up, and rushing off to do as you’d said. The boy below you was still breathing heavily, holding his ankle, and whining in intense pain, muttering curses; another guy looked up to the window he’d flown out of and shouted up, “Screw you guys!”

He received a deafening howl of laughter from the neanderthals upstairs — you stared up at them, in silent aggravation, your photographic memory switching on to capture each of their smug, idiotic faces — six in total. You couldn’t recall their names, them being utterly irrelevant to you, but you did manage to remember that they had a string of lockers together, right across the trophy cabinet where you did your makeup every morning. A thought occurred to you, and you pondered as to whether you should do it or not, and then promptly decided to, what the hell, you only live once.

You reverted your gaze back to the boy below you, who was still writhing. The student from beforehand tried to keep him focused, asking a simple question, “What’s your name?”

The curly haired young man choked on his own words, before sputtering out, “Jason Todd.”

You didn’t have time to do much else, for the nurses came in the next instant, as well as two teachers, each with panicked expressions. As Todd was loaded onto the stretcher, you could hear the two professors mumbling hurriedly amongst themselves about what ‘Mr Wayne’ would think, and whether the academy would get sued for having brought damage to his son.

(You hoped the school would get sued.)

In any case, now you understood more clearly. This was Bruce Wayne’s new ward. It made sense that people would either be picking on him (example a, the fuckers up there), or sucking on his toes (example b, the girl who was putting on a flattery show). You came to your feet, and looked on silently, as the nurses worked on him steadily, while another faculty staff called 911, whilst another fainted out of fear of losing his job. The scene was really quite fascinating, an insightful study into the mindset of the pathetically insecure, which to some level you could sadly relate to — so, unfortunately, you felt a shred of pity, and reluctant sympathy, towards the flailing adults, as they struggled to act like sane human beings, whilst a child was suffering right in front of them.

You stayed for a tad longer, to keep an eye on Jason Todd, before the ambulance showed up, and whisked him away, leaving the poor caregivers to attend to the wretched teacher who’d blacked out. Then, you twisted around, and headed back into the building; you still had around fifteen minutes till your next lesson began, so that gave you ample time to complete the task you’d wanted to do previously.

-

“Did you see him just fucking jump out like a twat? He’s so fucking stupid,” one of the bullies chortled, as the lot made their way down the corridor, after the lunch bell.

“Right? Must be the public schooling,” another sneered, earning a plethora of detestable laughter from the rest of them.

“I think he broke his foot. Isn’t that hilarious?—”

They all stopped dead, in the middle of the hallway, since there was a sizable crowd. Pushing their way through to discover what was going on, they were astonished to find the cause of the audience.

Scrawled along all six of their lockers, were the plain words ‘pathetic bastards’, with neat, large, black handwriting. That was all, nothing less, no more.

They turned around, to see who had been responsible for their humiliation, and their eyes settled on you; but you were applying your typical red eyeshadow, with your signature deadpan expression. When you met their gaze in acknowledgement of their staring, they couldn’t say a word, and only turned back to the ‘crime’, and started trying to rub off the inscripture, only succeeding in smudging their expensive jackets in the substance.

Ten metres or so away, you smiled, as you felt the black eyeliner in your trouser pocket.

-

That was the one and only time you ever interacted with Jason Todd. From then on, your thoughts never dwelled once on him — until, six years later, his death was announced to you all in an assembly.

And then he was all you could think about. The boy you’d met once, was now dead — gone, forever, stripped from the earth like a weed, carelessly yanked out by the fates, and laughed at by the gods. It felt wrong, and injustice was a familiar flavour that stung bitterly in your mouth, and made you grit your teeth in pure rage and regret.

Life was short; life is short, like the fleeting jump Jason Todd had taken out of the window, like the brief moment he’d been soaring through the sky like a bird. Even after his passing, he remained influential to you, reminding you that taking your existence for granted was something foolish, for if your time was cut short, you’ll wish you’d done more.

The ghost of Jason Todd took a small, unoccupied place in your frozen heart, and settled there cosily, a constant sad yet needed prompt of the spontaneity of everything around you.

And you kept him there, as if he’d never gone at all.

Next chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/an-idiot-in-fandoms/692697189283135488?source=share

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd fic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fanfic #jason peter todd #jason todd angst #jason todd fluff

[crimmson]

okay before I say what I'm about to say:

1) we believe in and actively participate in nuance on this blog, crimmson.tumblr.com

2) I am acutely aware that this is at least partially a "me" problem; I am also aware that the ratio of "me problem":"not-me problem" could very well skew heavily toward being entirely a "me problem"

3) I know I'm some flavor of neurodivergent, what flavor that is is between me and god and I'm not talking to god to find out what that combination of flavors is at this time

4) I'm human, you're probably human, and sometimes that means being nonsensical and contradictory (I do not control the brain chemistry)

okay? okay.

so now. the thing. the thing that bothers me to no end: When You're Talking About Something And Someone Is Trying To Be Relatable But They Kinda Just Make It About Them, Even If Unintentionally. i hate this. I hate it so much.*

*it is highly dependent on who is doing it, how well I know them, how it's phrased and delivered, and a dozen other factors. sometimes and with some people I'm completely fine with it.

"but crimm! isn't that a trait of some neurodivergent people?" yeah I know! and I get the reasoning behind it! I still fucking hate it! (see points 1 through 4)

I'm going to outline my thought process (also applies to when I'm listening to someone else and I can see the conversation getting away from them; if you've been in a group call with me and I bark at you to let Person continue, well, you already know).

So here's a fictional scenario and my thought process:

I am telling a story among a group of people. so it is My Turn for attention (something I generally avoid and prefer to play more of a supporting or sidekick role so if I'm going for it, it's like... meaningful for me or whatever)

Branch A: someone interjects with a reaction or a comment; this is fine and it's a clue to me that you're listening which I appreciate. however it snowballs with everyone building onto the joke or comment and becomes a whole other conversation.

Branch B: someone interjects with a "oh hey something similar happened to me," and begins telling their story instead.

I wasn't actually done with my story though

combo of feelings ensues: nobody was actually listening or cared enough about what I was saying since they don't seem to notice or care that I didn't finish, being steamrolled by someone else who usurps my Moment of Attention, feels like someone turned it into a competition or had to one-up me, couldn't let me feel Special for 5 seconds, etc etc

(also really annoys me when I'm watching this happen to someone else, I just think other people should have their Moment and get to bask in it for a minute rather than getting immediately one-upped)

((if anything it annoys me way more when it's happening to other people))

(((Once again, see points 1 through 4 at the top)))

listen. I try really hard to keep it in mind that people are doing this as a means of trying to relate and prove that they are paying attention, showing empathy, sympathy, etc, I know all this. but I'm tired of pretending that it doesn't impact me or other people. I can HEAR the upset in other people when they're getting steamrolled and the conversation is getting away from them before they've finished saying their piece, or they're constantly getting cut off, etc.

it feels....childish? to say "oh it's just a neurodivergent trait! they can't help it!" and just expect it to go unchallenged all the time? like dude 1) we aren't a monolith 2) if I had to learn how to socialize then can't someone else learn to read the fucking room and shut up for a minute? not all the time, but maybe like 50/50? please?? compromise????

(once again, reminder: points 1 through 4)

like I'll go out of my way not to change subjects too fast so that people can have their minute in the spotlight. even if there's something I was gonna post. but if someone beat me to it, that's a-ok and I'll wait a few minutes to an hour depending on context so I'm not taking attention away from them. but like it always kinda weirds me out when someone posts about their day, and then like 30 seconds later someone else starts talking about themselves or something totally unrelated to the other person's message instead.

thankfully my group is generally pretty good about things and even if we get off track for a moment we will apologize and tell the person to continue. (or I yell at everyone for a second when I sense The Upset, and then tell the person to continue, and thankfully everyone seemingly does not outright hate me for this)

So with the knowledge that I fucking hate when people do that to me, I make sure I don't fucking do that to the best of my ability. I wish I could say it was hard, or a habit I had to develop, but like... it's not. It's not hard, I didn't have to work to Not Do The Thing I Hate (or if I did have to work on it, it's been so long that I genuinely don't remember), and I have been employing this strategy below for as long as I can remember. It's not something I have to think about anymore.

My Strategy For Conversation And Making Sure The Person Knows I Am Engaged And Interested And They Feel Valued:

I ask questions. it seems to keep the conversation going and they get to expand on details and stuff. it seems especially nice if it feels like they were trying to avoid taking too much time but now they feel like you do actually want to hear what they're saying and they can relax. at least that's the vibe I get. I can hear when their voice changes and they relax or get excited or whatever.

If I interject with a comment or joke, I will make sure I end it with like a "but keep going" to encourage them to keep talking (sometimes a little apology just to politely signal that I acknowledge my interruption)

if I interject with a comment, it's about THEIR story, not a "oh that reminds me of the time I..." so like, if someone is telling a story about... Idk, John From Work Said Something Fucking Stupid, then my comment might be something like postulating about what the fuck John's thought process was to get to that point of Saying Something Fucking Stupid. but it's something that THEY can build off of to continue THEIR story.

idk man. I just. I watch it happen in chat sometimes and I bite my tongue because I'm trying to be considerate and I don't even know if it bothers the other people who, in my mind, are getting interrupted or not getting a minute to soak in their moment of attention. like I could very well just be getting pissed off on behalf of other people who didn't even think twice about it. so like yeah, could 10000% be a me problem!

but I'm a big fan of the concept that an explanation is not an excuse! yes I am glad I understand these traits and tendencies and it does help me be tolerant of them to a degree when I know the intent is good. but it feels like I have to be tolerant of it all the time, otherwise I risk being anti-neurodivergent or something. which is very funny because I have ADHD, I've had anxiety, I've had depression and (this is the only time I'm going to acknowledge this) there's a pretty solid chance I'm autistic to some degree (we will never speak of this again).

I am okay with the knowledge that I'm just gonna be socially incompatible with some people but idk man. I know it probably comes down to like Clear Communication because obviously how will people know it annoys you and work toward a potential compromise if you don't say anything!

but if you think I'm gonna go "hey, half of the friend group, I fucking hate this thing you do sometimes because I'm mentally ill 12 ways to Sunday" then you are out of your fucking mind, I would rather wear cinderblock shoes and swandive into the Mariana trench

(also one last time, Points 1 through 4)

((and no this isn't about anyone in particular and wasn't even triggered by any specific event, I am literally just laying in bed eating chips and watching YouTube videos and decided to be a bitch on a whim))

#dont mind me im rambling #it probably comes down to like. i ask for so little and i try to take up so little space and attention to begin with #so any perceived disregard when i stick my neck out is. oof ouch. amplified a billion percent. #which again! me issue! i am unwell! and i am aware of that! #but like. it cant all be me. right? right???