#//that’s my 2 cents

[tcmpestes]

Good morning gamers, due to the chaos starting today I’m going to try and keep myself scarce online. Take care of yourselves and do what you can ❤️

[mwagneto]

sorry idk but the way the world is so fast and the people in it still want it to be faster is sooo annoying to me. people groaning while standing in line for 3 minutes people being mad the train ride is gonna take 2 hours people complaining that the bus is a few minutes late people being angry that construction work is taking months even though it used to take decades. don't you see the world is already so so so fast in every single aspect can't you understand that being mad will do nothing and just make your mood worse. enjoy the moments of stillness you're given. just stand in line and look at the people around you. sit on the train and watch the scenery. you'll get there.

[ballpitwitch]

𝐊𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐮 𝐑𝐞𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐂𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐍𝐉 - 𝟏𝟎/𝟎𝟖/𝟐𝟑

[dishwasher09]

knight teruko for all 4 teruko appreciators out there. i love you ( + bonus sskk sketchbook doodles under the cut cause my ass is not doing my homework)

[lemon-bomb]

I saw someone say the rat grinders were disappointing as villains because of how easy they’ve been to take down, but as a criticism for d20. But I think the rat grinders being anticlimactic is kind of the point? They didn’t but the work in, they took shortcuts and so they’re not doing well. I personally find them getting their asses beat to be so satisfying. They picked a fight they can’t win so yeah half of them are already dead.

That’s the point.

[sasasartblog]

[edit: on my defense I personally thought it'd be funny not sad]

[perilegs]

[hinamie]

you're lovely in ways that i just can't explain

testing out new brushes w some lmhs itfs nape kisses :> jjk atla!au with @philosophiums

[unclewaynemunson]

Alt version of this post bc too many people asked for both <3

It's Saturday night and, like almost every Saturday night, Eddie wishes he didn't have to be at some jock party. The flashing lights, the scent of cheap mixed drinks, the incredibly mediocre loud music... And worst of all, the fucking jocks. Everywhere.

'Eddie!'

He looks up to find Steve, with a dopey smile on his face, basically skipping towards him and throwing his arms around his neck. Oh. He didn't know Steve still went to parties like those. Hadn't seen him at any of them in a while. But as soon as he gets wrapped up in an enthusiastic full-body hug, he decides there's one jock, and one jock only, that he doesn't mind running into at those parties.

'Eddie, what're you doin' here?' There's an unfocused look in his eyes and he wobbles on his legs a little bit, grabbing tighter onto Eddie for support. The touch burns through Eddie's t-shirt and he tries to ignore the shiver running down his spine.

'I didn't know you liked parties!' Steve drops his voice, slurring: 'I thought you hated the jocks.'

Eddie can't help but smile. 'I hate all jocks but one, big boy,' he tells Steve. 'Not here to party, only to get some cash.' He rattles with the metal lunchbox in his hands to illustrate his point. 'Can you let me go now so I can get on with my business, pretty please?'

'Noooo,' Steve says with an exaggerated pout. 'I'm too happy you're here! Dance with me!'

Eddie chuckles. 'I don't think you're in any state to dance right now. Jesus, Stevie, I don't think I've ever seen you this wasted before. Thought you were planning to pick up a girl tonight?'

'I was,' Steve says, suddenly sounding oddly serious. 'But it doesn't matter. Just needed to forget. The rum helped, too.' He frowns. 'Til you showed up.'

'Forget what?' Eddie asks, trying to make sense of this drunken string of words.

Something happens; something that's been happening quite often lately. Steve's eyes flash downwards, just for a second, right to where Eddie's lips are.

Eddie's heartbeat involuntarily picks up speed.

'What did you need to forget, Steve?' Eddie asks again.

'Can't tell you,' Steve mumbles so softly that Eddie can barely make it out over the loud music. 'I don't wanna make you feel guilty. I'm not judging you, y'know. 'S fine.'

He abruptly lets go of Eddie and takes a step away from him, stumbling right into some girl who pushes him back with an annoyed scoff; if Eddie weren't still standing right behind him, he would've fallen on his ass for sure.

'Alright, you're not making any sense tonight, big boy, but I can't in good conscience let you stay here by yourself. How 'bout I'll drive you home?'

Eddie glances at his watch. If he hurries, he can probably still be back to do what he came here for before the good part of the party is over. He does kinda need the cash.

'Can't,' says Steve. 'Can't go home with you.' Something in his voice is breaking and suddenly there are tears in his eyes, and Eddie still doesn't understand what's wrong; he feels like he's overlooking something huge, something that should be obvious.

'Let's just go outside to talk, then?' he suggests.

'Can't. Dance with me, Eddie.'

But when Eddie starts gently tugging Steve towards the open door leading to the garden, Steve easily lets himself be led outside. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath when the cool night air reaches his lungs, as if one gulp of fresh air will instantly make him sober up. But he's still swaying on his feet, making Eddie grab onto him tighter.

Eddie likes to think of himself as moderately strong, but unfortunately, hauling 180 pounds of muscled jock around is starting to take its toll on him. He spots a bench in a secluded corner of the garden and guides Steve towards it.

'This better?' he asks.

'Yeah,' Steve breathes out. Even now that they're both sitting down, Steve keeps clinging onto him. 'Look at the stars, Eddie.'

Eddie looks up at the scattering of lights twinkling far above them - but he can feel Steve's eyes still burning into his face.

When he directs his gaze back to the guy sitting next to him, Steve's face is even closer than before. The starlight is reflected in his hazy eyes, tiny specks of silver hidden in various shades of brown and black.

'I wish I could kiss you,' Steve whispers, looking at Eddie with nothing but admiration behind that glassy drunk gaze.

Eddie almost forgets to breathe. He knows that it seemed like he and Steve were headed exactly toward something like this for a while now, but he still can hardly believe that it is real. That Steve Harrington is really looking at him like he's just as precious as the stars in the sky above them.

He brings up a hand, gently caresses Steve's soft cheek.

'Maybe you don't have to wish,' he whispers back, unable to stop his eyes from flashing towards Steve's beautiful lips for a moment. 'Tomorrow. When you're not drunk anymore. If you still remember this.'

'No.' Steve shakes his head, so fiercely it makes his hair flap in all directions and his complexion at least two shades paler. 'Can't.'

'Why do you keep saying that, Steve?' Eddie asks softly.

'Cause.' For a moment Eddie thinks Steve is gonna grab his ass, but then... he randomly frees Eddie's handkerchief – the one with the skulls – from his back pocket.

'Cause of the Russians.'

Eddie can only stare at him in confusion.

'They tied me up,' Steve all but whispers. Eddie hates how small and broken his voice suddenly sounds.

He has always known – broadly speaking – about what happened to Steve and Robin miles beneath Starcourt last year. He's never actually heard Steve talk about the details, though. All he knows is that he and Robin were captured by Russian spies and somehow made it out alive. He could always see how difficult it was for Steve to talk about it whenever it came up, but he never wanted to pry. And now here they are, at some goddamn high school jock party of all places, and all of a sudden Steve willingly brings it up.

'I was with Robin,' Steve continues, still in that scared and broken voice. 'And they tied us to a chair. We couldn't move. And they – they hurt me. They hit me. 'Til I was bleeding all over. I thought I was gonna die. Robin thought I was dead.'

'Jesus Christ, Steve,' Eddie breathes out, tightening his grip around Steve's torso.

'So I can't,' Steve mumbles, holding up Eddie's handkerchief as if it's some kind of logical explanation for whatever it is he's trying to tell Eddie.

'Wh- What?'

'I know what it means, Eddie,' he says, as if he's even remotely making sense right now. 'You know John?'

'Who the hell is John?' Eddie only keeps finding himself more and more lost in this conversation.

'My cousin,' Steve says, like it's obvious, like he's ever talked about some cousin named John to Eddie before. 'The one in New York. He knows all about that shit, right? He sends me the good magazines sometimes when my parents aren't home. That's how I know.'

'Know what?'

Steve only waves around with that stupid handkerchief again.

'You're flagging, aren't ya? You like pain. Like BS... BM...'

Eddie feels his jaw drop.

'What the fuck are you talking about?' he asks. 'It's – this is a metal thing. It looks metal. I literally have no idea what you're – flagging?'

Now Steve's face finally mirrors the confusion Eddie has been feeling for the past ten minutes.

'Are you serious?' he asks, for one second showing more clarity in his eyes than Eddie has seen all evening.

Eddie nods.

'So it's not...' Steve stops himself, swallows, frowns. 'You're not into, like, hurting people and shit?'

And finally, it all clicks together in Eddie's mind: the repeated chorus of I can't, the story about the Russians, the goddamn handkerchief... Flagging. BDSM.

'Why the hell would I get off on hurting you, Steve?' is all he can get out of his mouth.

And Steve honest-to-Satan starts giggling; it sounds so relieved that Eddie kinda feels like giggling too, scary metal image be damned.

'I dunno, it's more common than you think,' Steve mumbles. 'I wouldn't judge you, alright? But I knew I could never give you that. No matter how much I like you. And then you'd get bored of me.'

'Oh, Steve,' Eddie whispers out. 'You don't need to worry 'bout that, I swear. For all I care, we can have the most vanilla sex in the world forever. Or never have sex at all. As long as it's with you... I'm good.' Eddie cringes as soon as the words leave his mouth: it sounds too cheesy, too sincere. He kinda hopes Steve will have forgotten this particular part of their conversation tomorrow morning.

But Steve doesn't look at him like he thinks it's stupid at all: his eyes are wide and he's smiling a soft smile.

'You sure? You won't get bored?'

Eddie chuckles. Now that he's being too goddamn cheesy anyway, he might as well double down on it. 'I can't imagine getting bored of getting to hold this body in a million fucking years. In any way you'll have me.'

Steve heaves out a relieved sigh before he buries his head against Eddie's chest.

'Can I bring you home, now?' Eddie asks.

There's a twinkle in Steve's eyes when he lifts his head again.

'Ooohhh... You wanna have the most vanilla sex in the world with me now?'

A chortle escapes Eddie's lungs.

'Um, maybe tomorrow, when you're not drunk off your ass,' he answers with a wink. 'For tonight, just lemme get you to bed, 'kay?'

'Okay, big boy,' Steve answers, and Eddie can't help but laugh before he presses a kiss against Steve's forehead.

[respectabletwunkjasontodd]

i feel like people who are like 'bruce is wild cuz surely other kids in gotham saw their parents get murdered, he's not special' are missing the point cuz, like. Yeah. gotham is a place where crime and violence are rampant. almost certainly other children saw their parents murder, perhaps even more viscerally than bruce did. but. thats the Point.

arguably one of the longest-running themes in batman is an interplay between power and just... the desire to help other people. bruce might not be 'special' because he saw his parents die, but he's 'special' because he saw his parents die, felt (and often feels) powerless, and yet had the ability to do something about it. and yeah, he often fails but he also... doesnt, a lot. gotham may never be rid of violence (for canon and meta reasons) but, arguably, batman isn't about Results, it's about wanting to help, finding the power to try, and giving it your all even when it seems bleak and impossible. 'batman' may (often) be a male power fantasy, but i think its also... a victim's power fantasy. the fantasy of being able to say 'i was hurt, im still hurting, but im going to stop other people from getting hurt'

like thats the Point. thats Why he does what he does, in as many ways as he does it. idk why people think that that makes bruce or gotham less interesting

[daincrediblegg]

No you know what. I thought Joker 2 was good. And I’m tired of pretending that it wasn’t. Reasons under the cut bc of spoilers.

Because the thing is… Arthur was never the incel power fantasy that a lot of people made him out to be the first time around. He was never a true figure of “white male rage” because fundamentally he was a figure of an extraordinary level of social/classist and interpersonal abuse that led him to violence that liberated him from that (as is the case with MANY mentally ill and socially disenfranchised people in the world), but the violence was absolutely never the thing that defined him as a character, but that’s always the first thing that people miss when a character is reduced to black and white elements in the zeitgeist. But this movie definitively proved that all of the incel dude filmbros, as well as average detractors who reduced him to that “white male rage” narrative the first time around were not reflective of him as a character because in the end, even ARTHUR HIMSELF held himself accountable for his crimes, even fessing up to killing his mother in the eleventh hour. And his subsequent death after this revelation even further drives home the point that how he exists as a figure of nuance could never survive in the world that created him OR the world that allegedly “embraced” him. And I think that’s kind of beautiful from a meta-narrative standpoint and VERY faithful to how the first film operated.

[ikeasharksss]

hey im curious

feel free to rb & explain your answer in the tags!

[james-silent-hill]

Fuck it im gonna write James x Reader stuff. I shouldn't care but what is going with all the hate towards himmmmm. Wtfff.

There are SO MANY WORSE and much more awful people that tiktok Editors and Twitter folk simp over SOMETIMES EVEN IRL MURDERER and suddenly everyone decided "Jep James from the Silent Hill 2 iS THE guy to hate and shame people for finding him hot or interesting" ok then everyone who ever simped on ghostface or THE GHOST from call of duty needs to be shamed as well. They killed a lot of people?! Or Joel from The Last of Us... but y'all ain't ready for that fucking convo and it showwws.

(Not shitting on them I had a huge Joel and ghostface phase)

I like James. He's a very conflicted and interesting character who happens to be hot too. So I write some EQUALLY as bad and evil and terrible dirty fucking Reader smut with him :)

Especially the hate on people who edit him on tiktok is fucking crazy.

Let people like what they like why are we always going back in time with this.

I don't tell you pink as a color fucking sucks and you shouldn't like it. So don't tell me blue is terrible and I shouldn't like/write about it.

Thanks.

The most insane thing is that we are talking about a fictional game character bruh.

[once-upon-the-earth]

Look I think I said it before somewhere but I need to talk about it again.

Aziraphale (in the show - his characterization differs in the book and I’m talking about show Aziraphale here) is a soft character. He started out as a soldier and he made the conscious decision to give the sword away to someone who would use it for protection, instead of keeping it to fight (leaving out the whole thing about War owning it later on cause that’s a different topic and definitely wasn’t what Aziraphale had in mind when giving away the sword). He also makes a conscious decision to look and act as non-threatening as possible, instead deciding to look soft and huggable and gay as hell a tree full of monkeys on nitrogen oxide. We don’t see him fighting anybody even when he gets the sword back - he just holds it and swings it around a little, he doesn’t even lift it when they face Satan (I think. I’d have to go back and watch again but I’m fairly sure he just stands in the background behind Adam with the tip of the sword facing the ground).

We know, or at least suspect from the scene where he fixes the hole in the wall that he’s physically strong and we know he’s still technically a soldier in Heavens eyes (Gabriel going „you’re a lean mean fighting machine“ and him having and possibly leading a platoon in Heaven) but he fully rejects that position in episode five to go back to Earth. He doesn’t want to be a soldier at all. He’s still a protector, we see this in season two with Jimbriel (he literally says „I said I would protect you and I will), but even THEN he doesn’t physically fight the demons entering the bookshop (he lights the circle but it’s Maggie and Nina throwing fire extinguishers and encyclopedias).

I know we as the fandom love badass Aziraphale. I love badass Aziraphale as well. I take a little bit of an issue with how him actually being badass is portrayed in fanfic sometimes because a lot of trying to make him physically fight demons comes across as trying to make him more masculine, more fit, less the campy, soft, kind character that he is and it annoys me. (A part of that is also how people try to make him more like Crowley, which I don’t like the undertones of either but that’s a whole different topic.) Both because I don’t like the implication that to make him badass you have to change that part of his character and because we’ve seen him being badass in the show already and it was either a) trying to protect humans/Crowley/Jimbriel, which involved a lot more threatening that him actually throwing hands or on one occasion b) him being bitchy (Furfur pronouncing his name wrong). It was him being kind and caring about people and their lives! And possibly their reading skills.

And I know there’s a lot of hope for more badass Aziraphale in season three, because hell yeah, Heaven getting obliterated from the inside? Absolutely. But when we get to see BAMF Aziraphale in season three (because I don’t doubt we will, in some form or other) I’d much rather see him be badass by outsmarting Heaven (magic tricks anybody?) and getting away with it or threatening the Metatron or whatever than by punching somebody in the face. And IF he does have to use physical violence, then I want there to be a reason for it and I want it to be portrayed as a bad thing. Like I want I to be the absolutely lowest point of the character because we know how much he detests doing it and he hates having to do it anyways.

In that case also want it to end with the Metatron dead in a ditch.

[live-laugh-ukotoa]

anyways chat if Caleo is pedophelia despite the fact that Calypso has the mind+body of a teenager, and that time works differently on Ogygia shouldn't you hate Solangelo for the same reason? Nico didn't die. he's chronologically like 93 or something! but what's the solangelo fans reasoning? "he has the mind and body of a teenager, and time works differently in the lotus casino!" tl;dr some of you are hypocrites

[nycteris-g]

You want examples of anti-Manicheanism in Tolkien?

Take Maedhros - he who performed "deeds of surpassing valor" and stood against the darkness and armies of Morgoth for centuries. He who swore a blasphemous oath, condemning himself to damnation. He who murdered his kin not once, not twice, but four times. And he who, finally holding the very object that symbolized his damnation, realizes the futility of all the evil he committed and throws himself into the fire.

Is he bad? Is he good? He swore a blasphemous oath - by Tolkien's standards, that alone would make him 'bad.' And then, of course, there are, you know, the murders. But is he absolutely evil? Born to be a murderous thing? Beyond any redemption or pity? How can someone who so fearlessly resisted The Evil be an entirely lost case? Can absolute evil even recognize the horror of its own deeds?

Tolkien, far more insightful than those who try to divide humankind into simple categories of good and bad, masterfully depicted the complexity of human nature (the Children of Ilúvatar). Humanity is not inherently evil, nor is it doomed to fall - yet it does, and still holds the potential to rise again: to see, to believe, to choose to do good.