#so who are they to deny her

[faeriekit]

The Foster Mother

Now on ao3 and VHS release

There was, supposedly, someone waiting for him in the green sitting room.

“…Why?” Tim asked. Most of the usual suspects had already come by to give their “condolences”—former Drakes Industries investors, curious about the newly orphaned heir; fellow socialites, once again flocking in to give and receive sympathies for their “close friends, the Drakes”; gawkers come to see what they could scavenge off of a dead family’s home, never mind that their child was alive.

“She claims to know you, Master Tim,” Alfred offered, kettle in his hand. He spent a moment deciding between different two canisters of tea; a sign of possibly difficult future conversation. “Her interest in your father's estate seemed quite…minimal.”

…Alright.

Tim was still in his formalwear. Dissolving Drake Industries would take at least another year, and plenty of future hours cementing the future home of certain resources in their dissolution, but the outfit probably was more appropriate for whatever oncoming conversation that was about to ensue than his planned change into Dick’s old hoodie and board shorts.

Okay. Tim steeled himself. The self-determination…mostly worked. Whatever. He trudged up into the green sitting room from the kitchen with his usual introduction ready on his tongue.

And then Tim walked into the room.

And then Jazzy was there.

*

Tim had been three, and Miss Jasmine had been his had been his third nanny. He’d outgrown the wetnurse early on, and his second nanny had been dismissed, so although Miss Jasmine was the third nanny, she was first nanny Tim could consciously remember.

She’d had red hair. She’d been very gentle with him.

She got him up in the morning and put him to bed at night; for the first time, there had been someone who sat with him until he was asleep, reading all sorts of books his parents had left to engage him with as an early genius. Then, when those were over and done as promised to his parents, they got unauthorized books from the library: silly books with made-up words, dinosaur books, books about teddy bears and adventures around the world.

Tim hadn’t been allowed to travel the world. Tim hadn’t been allowed a teddy bear. His parents had thought it would encourage undue attachment.

(It had been the same reason he’d never been given a pacifier.)

Miss Jazz had given him a knitted bunny. She’d said her dad had made it especially for him.

The toy’s name was Bunny and Tim remembered him being very soft.

She didn’t smile all the time, but smiles were rewards that were easy to earn. He finished his meal and she smiled. He finished an educational puzzle and she smiled. He was quiet all through her phone call and she smiled, and answered all his questions once she was done.

Jazzy had been the first person in his life who was there all the time. She’d kissed his forehead after the bath and kissed his scraped knees; she’d carried him in his arms when he was tired and sometimes even when he wasn’t. His parents had wanted him to be independent, proactive, and not clingy, but Jazzy had been someone who he could run to from his bed when he’d had nightmares and someone he could cuddle on her lap with when he’d cried.

She was gone when he was seven. He didn’t remember why. His parents had probably never told him, but still; he'd assumed he'd have found out why eventually.

Jazzy looked the same right now as she looked in Tim’s memories, although she was likely no longer a college student at a nannying gig. Her red hair was pulled into a high bun, her dress modest and conservative from her neck to her ankles. There was a backpack beside her foot. She was sitting, one leg crossed over the other, on the high-backed loveseat in the green sitting room.

She looked up when he came in.

Tim. Stopped in his tracks.

It didn’t matter. Jazzy—Miss Jasmine stood up as soon as she saw him, eyes alight with worry. Foggy memories were swimming to the forefront of Tim’s brain. He couldn’t move.

“Tim?” Ja—Miss Jasmine asked, teal eyes raking over his frame. Tim froze where he was. He didn’t move, wide-eyed and terrified for no reason at all when Miss Jasmine got closer to him, at a distance that was more appropriate for a conversation.

She stood there. Watching him. It felt like his mother had just come home from her trips with Dad, and a ghost of old terror wafted through him as he waited for her to decide he’d done something wrong. Her voice got softer. Her eyes got softer. Why was Tim feeling so wrong-footed?? It was only a former staff person!

“Tim?” her voice was so gentle. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m—“

“M’s Jazz,” Tim croaked. Which. Wasn’t the level of formality he’d been going for, but better than Jazzy. He wasn’t a toddler anymore.

Miss Jasmine was so tall—honestly, was she taller than Bruce? She’d seemed insurmountable as a child; he hadn’t expected her height to truly be so statuesque as an adult.

(Or. Well. Almost an adult.)

She didn’t quite kneel down, but she did stoop lower, as if Tim was small and he needed to be on equal footing in order to have a serious conversation.

He could see all her freckles. Tim swallowed. It was too familiar. Everything about her was too familiar.

“You’re so big now,” Jazzy whispered, looking at his hair, his suit, his polished shoes. He didn’t feel it. “Oh, you’ve grown up so well.”

Thanks, Tim almost said. Something stopped him—something thick in his throat, to impassable to break through.

“I—“ he tried. He coughed. “Why…you… You’re here?”

Jazzy threw him an incredulous look, and then an incredibly wry one. “Well,” she drawled a little too primly, in the way that Alfred occasionally made obvious statements, “I’d think it obvious that when one’s parents have passed away, that those who care about you might come to check and see if you’re alright.”

Which. That didn’t make sense. Jazzy hadn’t come back for any other reason; she hadn’t come back for his mother’s funeral, nor when his father was injured publicly by a villain. Why start now?

“And,” Jazz added, seeing his visual confusion and distrust, “Your parents can’t exactly threaten me with a kidnapping charge for visiting you when they’re dead.” Pause. “Which I am sorry about. My condolences.”

Which. Whiplash. What a statement.

“Uh,” said Tim, who was rapidly losing control over the situation.

Jazzy stood again, and went back to her seat; she didn’t set herself down, though, as she only stooped to grab her backpack. “I am sorry for being unable to visit, although I really wanted to; you were at a very vulnerable age and had already moved into a class a year above you, and your parents should have been less hasty about replacing your main caretaker. The assassination attempts were unwarranted, but they did drive the point home that attempting contact was perhaps discouraged.”

“What,” said Tim. “Assassin what.”

“They were ninjas,” Jazzy offered, as if that was an answer. “Except the last one, which was a former marine. The point is that I do care about you, and wanted to ask if you had any idea where you’re going now that your parents are no longer…available guardians.”

Tim’s mouth opened. It closed.

Jazzy waited patiently.

“…How have you been?” Tim tried, resorting to a part of the script they hadn’t gone through yet.

Jazzy’s laugh was tired, but no less real. It was nothing like listening to his parents titter politely; he didn’t think Jazzy would even know how to fake a laugh. “Well, my brother told me that my former bosses had died, which was somewhat stressful. Otherwise, I’m pretty happy: I live with my brother and worked with him for the last few years. I was going to pursue medicine, but…well. The assassination attempts made it hard to interview for scholarships. I suppose that I could return to that now,” Jazzy mused, attention now elsewhere. She pulled the backpack off the floor and up into her grip. She opened it, and flipped through its contents. “How are you doing? I know that Wayne Manor fosters, but your parents were always rather…hands off. I thought the difference in levels of attention might be overwhelming.”

It was. Tim should be surprised how clearly she sees through him—

—But Jazzy used to watch him stim for almost a full hour after school, twisting Bunny’s arms back and forth until he could calm down. Seeing other people all day had been too much for him. Coming home from his parents’ parties had been similarly stressful.

She’d never been mad at him for it. She held him while he talked and stimmed and talked and talked and talked, and brushed his hair sometimes, or if it was very late and he was very young, helped him brush his teeth through all the medieval execution facts he could name.

“It is a lot to get used to,” Tim agreed quietly. He didn’t want to be ungrateful. He didn’t want to let on anyone about his plan to leave.

He had an out. The papers had already been filed; there was an actor waiting to play his uncle for a custody battle, ready for the fight.

Tim was ready to up and go. It was no hardship to leave all the good things here; anything beat making Bruce stick his fingers into Tim any deeper than they already were, compromising the dynamic they’d already established.

It was for the best.

“I can imagine,” Jazzy sympathized easily. “And I wanted to offer—well. I know there’s probably a lot of choices available to you, but my brother and I recently moved back to Gotham proper for the time being. He’s teaching astronomy courses at the university and I’m filing paperwork for Arkham patients. It’s not so privileged a home, but it’s quieter, and more central in town.”

…Tim’s heart skipped.

He. He couldn’t stop staring. Jazzy stared back at him, quiet and sure. Sure of what, Tim had no idea, but…

Why? Why would she want Tim? There was no way she would be able to get to his trust fund without his help, and he for sure knew better than to enable her ability to leech from him. The last time she’d known him, Tim had been a snot-nosed kid who cried all the time and couldn’t be normal for twenty consecutive minutes. His parents couldn’t even stand to be on the same hemisphere as him as a child. What appeal did this have for her?? What could having a teenager with severe baggage living in her house do for her?

And it’s not like there was any chance she knew he was Robin!

“Oh,” Jazzy suddenly interrupted. “I brought these for you, by the way. Your parents had tossed them out at various points; I’ve washed them since, of course.”

She handed him the backpack by the handle.

…Tim peeked inside.

On top was Bunny, still a washed-out faded sort of pink. He looked as fresh as he had the day when Tim’s parents had ”cleaned out” Tim’s nursery—in other words, a faded, a little gray, and slightly discolored from an old spaghetti stain. His button eyes were big and blue.

And beneath him were books that hadn’t passed his father’s muster as appropriately masculine reading material: The Velveteen Rabbit, with the cover a little scarred from a fierce attack of wet wipes. There’s A Monster at the End of This Book, with a goofy-looking Muppet on the cover, gold spine beat up beyond belief. Art Tim’s teacher at the time must have laminated and sent home; Tim’s dorky, crayon cat proved he would never make it as an artist, but attached to it was a photograph of a grinning boy with a bowl cut and a missing tooth.

Tim stared. There’d been purple marker on his hands and face. His grin looked…really bad, actually, like as if he was baring his teeth because he didn’t know how to smile. There was no formal grace there. Nothing to show the neighbors, nothing worth framing to put into the line of sight of the investors in the office.

Jazzy had kept it and brought it home with her. Jazzy had fished it out of the trash, and brought it with her to give back to him in Gotham.

It was crinkled like it’d been folded, over and over again. Further down in the bag was a crumpled certificate dedicated to “Timmy Drake, for: knowing a lot about octopi”, and a baby blanket Tim didn’t even remember. It had rocket ships on it. It looked as if someone had cut into it with scissors, although it had been obviously and brightly mended with red embroidery floss later on.

Jazzy had only been his nanny until Tim was seven. She had simply been gone one night, and Mom and Dad had been home for ten nights after without help before giving in and hiring Mrs. McIlvane and Mrs. Edith. Ms. Edith had never been so…permissive…with Tim as Jazzy had been.

Tim swallowed. He carefully put everything back into the backpack, unsure if he even wanted to keep it or not. It wasn’t like he could leave it here; he’d be gone, ideally, before the week was out. There was no point in taking it with him if he only planned to live with a stranger until he was eighteen.

“J…” Tim tried. He cut himself off before he could get too informal without prompting. “Miss Jasmine—“

“Just Jazz,” Jazzy corrected politely.

“—Why are you here?” Tim asked, ignoring how she’d technically already answered. He didn’t believe her. “What made my parents fire you?”

Jazzy’s expression turned…soft. Tim couldn’t look at her. Something horrible was welling with it, and he didn’t know how to cope.

“I’m here because I care about you,” Jazz repeated, and knelt beside him. She looked up into his face, and took his hand. Tim didn’t know why. He was practically an adult—he didn’t need this!

“And I was fired because your Mother overheard you calling me ‘Mommy’ on accident when you were tired. I suppose she was insulted, although I’d never know why; it’s not like she was ever home to bond with you in the first place.”

Tim’s throat closed. He missed his mom. He missed waiting up for his parents’ flight home, seeing their headlights outside the window, and knowing they’d bring home gifts from overseas. He missed using Mom’s perfume, and knowing he’d used more of the bottle sitting on her dressed than she ever had, but that it still smelled like her. He missed hearing his Dad telling all sorts of adventure stories and promises through the phone to be home for the holidays, even if Tim knew there was every chance he’d find some other way to spend the time back in Gotham.

And there was some small child in him who missed Jazzy, who hugged him and walked him to the library and made him soup from a can instead of fancy dinners and, who’d never needed to be waited for in the first place.

Tim looked at Jazzy’s round, freckled face.

He swallowed.

Tim moved out before the end of the week, as expected.

#dp x dc #Jazz fenton #tim drake #that one time Tim specifically hired a fake uncle so that Bruce couldn't adopt him #free to a good home #Jack Fenton knits btw #I'm not going to continue this but i thought it was a cool premise and needed its time. Have fun with it if you want to! #this is dedicated to all the fulltime nannies at the library who are fully just college girls raising babies #dpxdc #dcxdp #Jazz said is anyone going to raise this baby and was targeted by ninjas for it #I don't have any future plans BUT there is a moment where Dick tries to sneak into her apt to 'check it out' and she fully Gets Him with a #TBI and a Fenton CreepStickTM #also. parents who try to shape their kids by denying them every form of human comfort and access to their interests. You're dead to me #also also also I'm still a Tim Drake Autistic truther #not NOT inspired by the Say Uncle by Megarakles. This one's for you fellow fans #also. if he goes with her. He gets parented for the first time ever and it Sucks Ass lol. #faer fic

[a-heart-of-kyber]

I can only speak as a person raised Catholic (heh...), but let me present a wild scenario.

Could you imagine the actual Holy Spirit having a clear and direct sentient influence in your child's life?

With this connection to the Holy Spirit, he starts performing absolutely insane miracles that a Child shouldn't be capable of and by the age of 8 God's chosen priest shows up like "Hey kid, have you heard of our lord and savior Jesus Christ? In my day, he was super sexy. You’re special. I'm going to train you and later you should probably go to a religious school."

And then, by age 17ish, Jesus himself shows up like, "Yes, twas me the whole time. Let me train you one on one my child." And then a year later, your son tells you he's sleeping with Jesus?

Like...does this help anyone understand what happened to Gale better? Or does it help that the Mystra analog is depicted as a man? Do you need me to hold your hand and tell you that even if Gale showed interest, it was on Mystra, as the omniscient god with all the power in the relationship and Future sight?!, to not fucking sleep with the mortal who maybe became an adult 5 minutes ago?

#you do realize there are books that state the weave is mystra and mystra is the weave #she uses the weave in. the. game. to lovebomb him in act 2 and arguably in act 1 #tw grooming #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #he deserves so much better like holy shit #the willful ignorance is troubling #like *gestures wildly* how are you denying/disregarding this?! #she HAS A HISTORY tf is wrong with you people #I've seen many people who have done the research state this Mystra is all Mystras too so #given her past history and the fact she's still doing it she's absolutely on the line for her past sins #wtf #fuck mystra #if you try to say there's nuance i will block you

[teamunee]

alhaitham 🤝 me

feb 11th born kaveh stans

#IM LATE 😭 #was too busy doing nothing on my actual bday oops #stayed up all night to finish this so gonna pass out now #genshin impact #haikaveh #al haitham #kaveh #happy birthday alhaitham #!! #also kaveh was supposed to be cropped and blurred actually #but my (kaveh simp) friend convinced me not too #and hell im a kaveh simp too #so who am i to deny her

[mitsuki91]

Okay but you know what could really destroy Snow?

Seeing Lucy Gray slowly starting to fall out of love with him. Lucy Gray knowing him so well she starts to be repulsed by him. The pain and disdain and the masks she has to wear (expecially if they are in the Capitol and she depends on him) in order to survive... With him because she has no other option. Lucy Gray, who put trust above everything, slowly starting to lie to his face, to hyde the fear and the pain behind fake smiles to make him happy with her.

And he will see this. He will see because, as always, as they are connected by the stars, as they are both performers, he can read her as she can read him. He can see her pulling back from their love story.

So. He may think that he want her to be caged, because so he can feel safe. But in reality he can not. In reality, he needs her to choose him. Everyday. They have to be a team. They have to be alone against the world (even if that means they have to perform to find a place in that world). He has to know, to feel sure, to feel warm about the fact that his Lucy Gray wanted him and wanted to be with him in the same way he wanted to be with her.

He has to be sure they truly love each others.

Or he is going to be insane. After all, he already did. One trace of doubt - he lost it. He lost it so bad.

But betrayal in a so giant way is a thing; a thing that set him in a rage, that make him spiraling without control and do despicable things in a matter or seconds.

Slowly see your only love slowly fade away? This is another type of pain who can drive one mad in a more subtle way, because he still had hope he can just fix things and surerly he will do it. Just a little time. Just a little patiente. He will do it. But in reality she fade. More and more far away. And panic arise, day by day.

So yeah, Coriolanus Snow was a boy in love, and as a boy in love (the first time I must add) wanted to cage her loved one, to control her. It's normal to feel this way when you love someone, because you want the other one to love you the same. But it's a passing thought, not a real one, because physical possesion doesn't mean owning someone's feelings, and he knew this. Deep down he knew. And he wants Lucy Gray's love above everything else.

Seeing her simply perform their love story to him will be too much.

#coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird #meta #snowbaird #this is why everytime I read him as a cold and possessive bitch who only wants to own Lucy Gray's “body” I feel so much ooc #this is not him #he will never be satisfied only to close her behind a door and fuck her #you all are overanalyzing one possessive thought one teen have once the first time he fell in love #and foget that everyone at some point thought something like this #expecially as a teen #in a first love situation #if you deny it I know you are lying #no one is so pure not all the love is platonic or an agape love #coriolanus snow meta #I have strog and deep feelings about this #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #rant #coriolanus snow rant

[coolcaribiner]

lesbians who are terfs will never make any sense to me crying about the supposed exclusivity of the “female experience” like my brother in christ she experienced an othered, lonely, confusing childhood where she was made to feel inadequate in her gender, sexuality, or both just the same as you and instead of letting this unify you against patriarchy you just enforce it on other people to maintain the sliver of “power” you think you have. how do u not see how dumb this is oh my god

#like trans women are hurt by the patriarchy they don’t benefit from it you fucking coconuts bc even if they were ‘men’ (they’re not) #they’d be men who cannot live up to the standards set by patriarchy!!!! this is feminism 101 yet some people run their mouths like it’s 1912 #like dude. she’s doing gender and sexuality in a way cishet society hates just like u are. please be fucking smart and realize attacking her #only hurts YOU and loses YOU the same bodily autonomy u wanna deny her for the sake of “’saving ur lesbian brethren’ or what the fuck ever #you’re hurting cis women trans women intersex people EVERYONE because you’re so obsessed w feeling special for being perceived as a woman #and then being harmed for it that you can’t even see that the women you hate so much experience the EXACT SAME SHIT. use ur brain!!!!!! #anyways sorry read some takes from some lesbians in LC and got way too heated. god bless u trans dykes i love u trans dykes #idk what to tag this so. ya #posts

[infinite-infinite-stars]

What if... Who Killed Markiplier... but it's Ace Attorney Investigations...

"Ace District Attorney Investigations", if you will.

(Everything you see here was drawn by me, with some backgrounds/that one evidence photo being either screenshots from the show, or edits of official photographs of Mythea Castle, where WKM was filmed)

#who killed markiplier #wkm #ace attorney investigations #wkm fanart #wkm district attorney #captainsona #captain yona masters #''a burgundy-wearing prosecutor teaming up with a kooky detective? now why does that sound familiar- OH YEAH!'' #anyway you guys ever notice that the da from what we're shown is a pretty piss-poor investigator? #they just kinda wander around aimlessly and allow people to shoo them away before offering up any information #like their alibis or lack thereof #it doesn't exactly help that wkm is a choose your own adventure without any choices #and I know mark's team was limited on budget and time or whatever and they meant for it to be more involved than what we got! #it's not their fault! #but still you can't deny that what we got isn't very satisfying as far as murder mysteries go #and I don't feel all that compelled to pretend otherwise! #so in the version of wkm that exists in MY head #da!yona is going to take the prospect of solving her dear friend's murder SERIOUSLY goddammit! #(the conclusion she's gearing up towards in the last two pictures #is that the party was a cover for mark's plan to kill the colonel; but it obviously backfired and mark wound up getting killed instead) #(that's her theory. as we all know it's not /quite/ accurate to what really happened but it's pretty close!) #(obviously she's unaware of any supernatural element to the whole thing at this point) #(or heck maybe in this version of events there actually isn't a supernatural element at all and she's right. I haven't decided)

[thepoisonroom]

'I flirted with the idea that instead of being trans that I was just a cross-dresser (a quirk, I thought, that could be quietly folded into an otherwise average life) and that my dysphoria was sexual in nature, and sexual only. And if my feelings were only sexual, then, I wondered, perhaps I wasn’t actually trans.

I had read about a book called The Man Who Would Be Queen, by a Northwestern University professor who believed that transwomen who were attracted to women were really confused fetishists, they wanted to be women to satisfy an autogynephilia. And though I first read about this book in the context of its debunkment and disparagement, I thought about the electricity of slipping on those tights, zipping up those boots, and a stream of guilt followed. Maybe this professor was right, and maybe I was only a fetishist. Not trans, just a misguided boy.

About a year later, on the Internet, I come across a transwoman who added a unique message to the crowd refuting this professor. Oh, I wish I remember who this woman was, and I wish even more that I could do better than paraphrase her, but I remember her saying something like this: “Well, of course I feel sexy putting on women’s clothing and having a woman’s body. If you feel comfortable in your body for the first time, won’t that probably mean it’ll be the first time you feel comfortable, too, with delighting in your body as a sexual thing?”'

-Casey Plett, Consciousness

#this quote always moves me almost to tears when i remember it #i'm not a trans woman and i don't share the author's specific experiences with transition #but it really moves me that she frame transition as joyfully giving yourself permission to approach your body #not as something that has to be disciplined and deprived and made small in all these various ways #but as a means for experiencing pleasure and joy and delight and for insisting that our feelings and desires are worth #valuing and exploring and treasuring #i always used to think of prioritizing those things for myself as selfish and irresponsible #but who does it harm to want to experience pleasure in your own body? #it's such a beautifully simple and powerful switch to have flip in your head #and equally why are we forced to deny our own pleasure in transition and anything else related to our bodies in the name of moral rectitude #this is why i get so confused and pissed off when other trans people are fatphobic for example #like why are you so invested in politics of shame and disgust that never had any purpose other than #violently disciplining people as if they've violated moral codes by existing in a body #to say nothing of white people being racist in gay and trans communities #like again this system of violence is foundational to homophobia and transphobia #so why are you acting like it has nothing to do with you #even if you are unmoved by the urgency of other people's suffering which btw you should be moved by #what do you hope to gain by acting a collaborator and handmaiden to those systems #Casey Plett #she really is one of my favorite authors i wish more non-canadians read her #this quote is from a series of columns she did ont transition and every single one is a banger #i love when she talks about the people-pleasing elements of dysphoria and transition denial #she's so sharp about noting how many of us deny our own dysphoria on the grounds that others like and validate our bodies #that's how i always felt during my cis conventionally feminine era #it pleased other people so much and also that reception felt so hollow and joyless to me because i hated it #i get less of that positive feedback but that feels so unimportant next to the joy and pleasure i get to experience #said with the understanding that i'm very privileged in being able to prioritize those things without fear. but it was a switch flip #personal nonsense

[barb-l]

Enid: You lowkey want me to come back, just admit it.

Wednesday: No. Your perfume stinks.

Thing: Just admit that you miss her.

Wednesday: No, I don't.

Thornhill: You're sure you're just gonna let Enid move out?

Wednesday: I don't like living with her. I don't need a roommate.

Fester: Damn right, you don't! You don't need her!

Wednesday: 😠

#wednesday netflix #Wenclair #her denying to everyone who can tell th at she wants enid to come back #only to silently frown when somebody finally agrees with her #is so funny

[darlingod]

Cardan dropping his king act for Jude when she’s blushing

The Wicked King chapter 1 by Holly Black

The Wicked King chapter 15 by Holly Black

#who can blame him it’s JUDE lol #Cardan: well I can’t deny her now #Cardan: not with that look #can’t help himself I guesss #leave it to me to do the reaching💅🏼 #the cruel prince #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jurdan #the wicked king #TFoTA #I was so nervous people wouldn’t understand what I meant but I’m glad y’all do!!

[carefulfears]

one thing that stands out to me about the IVF arc is the way that, for as much as i make fun of her for asking her coworker if she can have his babies, scully asking mulder to be involved in the biggest process of her life (and the most important thing in the rest of her life) is such a healing and reverent experience. like he says “i’m absolutely flattered,” but it’s so much more than that. it’s like…spending your whole life feeling like you should’ve died at age twelve and then being told someone just wants more of you, more and more and more, in everything.

#it reminds me of 'sixth extinction' / 'amor fati' #when he quite literally was tied down and couldn't speak #and the way we hear him try to SCREAM when his mother just leaves him there #but his mind is Silent from the moment he hears scully in the hall begging to see him #and he couldn't crack a joke or run out the door #he literally just had to lie there and feel it #feel it on his Skin #her hand holding onto him #her tears falling onto his face #listening to the overwhelming depth of her fear that she is failing him and her devotion and her dedication to finding a way to help him #her Pleas for him to just 'hold on' #'i think that...if you know...if you could just find a way to hold on...i need you to hold on...please...' #everybody go listen to the civil wars' cover of 'talking in your sleep' #i don't think it can be overestimated how much of an impact that had on them and the lightness and healing in s7. that he Had to hear it #and then with the baby thing it's like...he CAN'T deny her that. he HAS to say 'yes' #there's no part of him that's capable of denying her something that she desires this badly. enough to ask for outright #and so he HAS to let himself be wanted and be invited into this unimaginably important and personal thing #let himself be a part of something bigger. be SEEN as someone who is valuable in a way that's bigger #and again he can't run from it and he can't deflect it and he can't hide from it. he has to just accept it #txf.txt #per manum

[mrpsychokiller]

tex red vs blue is insanely transgender but im the only one who sees it that way because im crazy in the head.

what if there was a past version of yourself. a woman, a wife, a mother, with long hair and a sweet smile. and she died long ago. and you are her. but you are not her. you're nothing like her, but the people who knew her desperately want you to be her, want to preserve the memory they have in their minds of the woman they loved through you. but you never asked to be her, never asked to carry the burden of someone else's expectation of who or what you should be. you have a new name. you prefer to go by this one. people remark on how weird it is that it's a guy's name. sometimes the people who loved [the past version of] you call you by your old name. they are not referring to you when they say it. you live in the shadows of someone who's long gone, and you're something different now, but you don't feel like you're ever allowed to define yourself on your own terms, to be your own person, to control your own life, because you exist solely through the memories people had of you. and the longer she has been gone for, the more desperately people try to get her back, the less you resemble her and the less you know who you are, or if you ever even got to be anything at all. what i mean is that transition could have saved him

#🧃 #rvb #red vs blue #DONT ask me why i got up in a cold sweat at 7 am with thoughts on tex red vs blue. i miss her so bad #anyways i do think if anyone in rvb could ever be actually trans coded (which nobody is because theyre created by fucking rooster teeth) #its gotta be tex #but because i know a trans subtext couldnt ever possibly be intentional i also think tex is a fascinating subject on the #''dead wife'' trope and the way stories like this treat female characters #and how tex's existence somehow seems surprisingly self aware as she actively rejects being the Dead Wife #and its brought to attention how existing solely as the angst memories men had of their dead wives #actively denies her of agency as a person inside the narrative #but also more generally denies dead wife characters agency in any narrative theyre written on #tex's struggles as a character inside her narrative are also the struggles of fridged/killed off female characters outside their narratives #on a meta textual level by being written by men in male centered stories who dont allow the women they write to exist as people #tex is a fascinating character and i am fucking furious she exists in a that stupid ass show. ill save you girl. ill take you out of there

[thistleation]

I dedicate this sketch to @daisychainsandbowties.

Specifically I dedicate it to their complete inability to get through a single davy jones au post without mentioning Bea's rolled up sleeves and mage tattoos.

Enjoy buddy 😘👍

#warrior nun #sister beatrice #pirate au #my art #sketch #I have now headcanoned this author character flaw into in-universe lore #In my mind Bea has 100% integrated bare forearms as a core part of her personality #but she'll deny this is the case whenever asked about it #“better to be seen as a mage than a woman” #yeah sure Bea so who are you trying to impress when you're *on the ship* huh? #(the answer is Ava) #(she will never admit this either)

[rainedroptalks]

Everyday I think about Penelope Everpetal and feel like ripping my hair out

#ramblings #d20 #dimension 20 #fantasy high #penelope everpetal #SHE WAS A TEENAGER. SHE WAS 17. #and yes. she did do that shit. I am not denying that she did all that #but it just drives me crazy that her life literally ended before it started #she was used as a pawn by a man who didn’t care less if she died and then she did #and she’s in hell for it. forever #wearing a mockery of the crown she died for #she delights in pain I suppose… #and when Sam was having her… weird symbolic grave hallucinations in ep 9 of the seven #the Penelope she saw in there. the one she told that she didn’t love anymore. wasn’t the real Penelope #BECAUSE IT NEVER IS IS IT??? #it was just the idea of her #Penelope has spent so much time curating this person so far removed from the middle schooler with braces and a clumsy smile #no one ever really knew her. maybe not even herself #not her parents obviously #her dad was too busy being a bad husband and her mom was too busy picking up the slack #not Sam who was clearl devestated by her betrayal #definitely not dayne #and now no one ever will. it’s too late #she’s just some concept now ig #a villian the bad kids defeated. a shitty friend in sams life. nothing else #she’s not a good person. but she’s never treated like a person either #anyway what I’m trying to say here is that she would’ve done numbers in jawbones office. by which I mean he’d be so concerned #(this rambling was brought to you by that bit in house of leaves where it says ‘you die at fifteen’ and talk about how karen died at 15) #(so Penelope Everpetal coded) #also I haven’t watched the seven in a bit so if any of this is wrong feel free to hunt me for sport

[giftedeath]

surprise is such a good episode for the vampire crowd like it rly takes the season one, half - baked soul lore of ' its a demon and it takes ur body but ur not really the human version of yourself thats dead ' and sort of puts that idea in a box and shakes it up bc the judge's first words to spike and dru are "u two stink of humanity u share AFFECTION 🥺 and jealousy" but then meets angelus and is like oh yeah .. there's not a spec of humanity on this one and to me .. to me ... that's just chefs kiss like what makes them different ? and like its LOVE 🥺

#this does have smthn to do w buffy and that #the vampire she surrounds herself in season 5 is spike who is ruled by this emotion #meanwhile she struggles w this ... feels like she can't feel it anymore #cant say it as easily / is calcifying .. seen too much done too much but hes there like #i literally am in love w u #and hes tried to kill her on multiple occasions but it takes CRUSH and his love confession for her to be like ... yeah uh stay away freak #DEFLECT DENY DEFLECT DENY #AND THEN its just AMPED up in season 6 #season 2 rewatch is rotting my brain in the very best way thank u <3 #why are you full of rage ? / because you are full of grief › meta. #spuffy / #like season 2 is so good but w season 5 + 6 it just makes it BETTER

[po-cky-o-o]

I present a very unnecessary analysis of the scaralumi talk before the big fight

First of all I love the way they both can see through each other. I think often times we overlook how good Lumi is at understanding the feelings of others - mostly because Paimon does most of the talking - but here we can see just how good she is at reading him since (I believe) this is the most she has ever talked in a quest. Scara believes he knows what he wants, but Lumi knows what he needs.

I like how he says this because it is true. We have been proven time and time again how Lumi cares about others, which is why despite her being enemies with Scara she can’t help but empathize with his situation.

But she’s not stupid, there’s where it comes the “almost” part. She is saying that as a way to try and stop his plans, not simply because she is worried about him and he knows that, but he still tries to convince her about him being, even though for a moment it almost sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.

Scara then moves on to say how his life has been meaningless up to this point, as if becoming a god is his only purpose and without it he is nothing. So he tried to understand why would Lumi bother going through such “futile errands” of protecting everyone.

But once again Lumi sees through him asking why then would he keep the connection with Haypasia (and consequently with Lumi herself). Even with his answer she is not convinced so he just deflects with his arrogance.

Not to mention how everything he says about Haypasia can also be applied to Lumine, since they both share a connection with him and saw his past. I find it interesting how he was able to sense Lumi and immediately entered her consciousness to observe her

Once again Lumi is able to figure him out and say what she needed to tick him off. He says how bad she is at sewing discord, but he still goes ahead and attacks the fatui calling it an “expression of affection”like he did for Haypasia, putting the two girls on the same wavelength

#I wanted to add more images but tumblr won’t let me 😭😭 #I really love the dynamic they established here #All the times they met before happened around some conflict this is the first time they stopped to talk without attacking each other #it just makes for a really fun back and forth between two enwmies who sre surprisingly good at reading each other #lumi knows godhood won’t bring scara the happiness he craves for #she doubts him when he says he keeps Haypasia around just because a god needs followers #She has seen his memories so she knows he craves for acceptance no matter how hard he denies it #While Scara sees Lumi’s determination in keeping everyone safe despite Teyvat giving her nothing in return #all while ​knowing it will most likely end in her simply getting her the same way he did #so yeah I love them lots and lots #genshin impact #lumine #scaralumi #lumiscara #scaramouche #wanderer #lumi harem #mine

[notbecauseofvictories]

I finally listened to the latest episode of the silt verses ("latest" meaning "it came out in january, I've just been really busy") and I don't want to be negative but I liked faulkner better when he was unhinged. No more pseudo-therapy or painfully honest conversations for these characters, they need to march to their doom being lonely, unfulfilled, and tragic.

#I am half joking but I do think that ''I went back to my childhood home where my father is losing his mind'' #''and I got absolutely no clarity. I was denied apologies or even confrontation; he was just a frightened frail old man'' #''and now I am alone trying to shout at someone who can't remember who I am'' #is a much better story. #paige already got to have a confrontation with her father who made it up to her late and sideways and bloody. #faulkner should be denied that catharsis. #especially after he listens to the radio transmission from greve about how he's false and a liar and alone #it would be so satisfying. for me even if no one else. #the silt verses