#I can't find the post anymore... (⁠｡⁠���́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠)

[purplecrimson]

This made me think a lot about my own experience with non-queer people, thank you for both of your posts @genderqueerdykes and @kithpendragon ^^

As a (very) young queer adult who is still hiding from their aphobic and transphobic family, I am really glad I had queer friends who helped me out and comforted me during my childhood and my teenage years.

My experiences with cishet people of my generation were more mixed: while most women (/ girls depending on their age at that time) seemed to genuinely care about me and tried to understand the problems I was facing, I could not meet a cishet man who was an ally; in fact, I heard the most transphobic sh*t while trying to do so, and some of it came from one of my friends, which really hurt me (and I couldn't even stand up for myself, I was too weak...). Therefore, I started growing bitter towards all cishet men, which even resulted in me disliking myself for being transmasc. Online spaces I was in did not help me dealing with this insecurity.

But in September 2023, upon entering higher education, I met a professor - a cishet man - who has been making a difference in my life, by being kind-hearted, compassionate and thoughtful. Some gushing incoming :D

He was the first person outside of my friend circle I dared coming out to. I sent him a shy email asking if I could change my name and pronouns without the academic institution telling my parents, even if it was not technically authorised (I was still a minor). He had a perfect reaction, informed all of the other professors and offered his help in case someone decided to be transphobic.

But he did not just treat me decently. He went out of his way (even when he did not have to) to make my life as comfortable as it could be as a trans person, ensuring, for example, that I was misgendered in the least possible amount of documents. And when I was feeling scared or sad, I knew I could talk to him about it - he would always listen. Heck, he even called me during last summer holydays, even if he is not my professor anymore, when he somehow learnt that I was depressed and ready to quit my studies.

And of course, he is a brilliant, charismatic, motivating and captivating professor - everyone loves him. I ended up realising he made me want to become a researcher or a professor in his field, which gave me back some hope and energy. And I often come back to his classroom to chat or ask him for some advice - his door is always open. He is also rather skilled in reminding me that I should be more self-confident!

One could say he saved me, without knowing it. I don't think he has any idea how much of an impact he's had on my life. I am still trying to find a way to thank him, to tell him how much I admire and look up to him before I move to a university far away. I can't even begin to word it.

Weirdly, the fact that he is a cishet man has been sticking in my head too. Now, I understand why: I guess he gives me back hope from a more political point of view too, and makes me feel less shameful to say that yes, I am transmasc (even if I still have to work on this...).

i feel like the entire online queer community collectively forgot, or rather pretends that queer allies don't exist. like. we literally have a term and even a flag for queer allies. they exist. assuming every single perisex cishet person hates queer people isn't the way to go. allies are a very real and important part of our community. allies challenge the status quo by saying, i'm not queer, but i support what you're doing. they exist. they're out there- and yes, many of them are cishet men.

please don't forget this, or pretend that they don't exist: allies are an extremely important part of our history, community, and safety.

[maikelfist]

Working Title: Man With Big Dick Fucks His Precious Boy

Okay so I had the weirdest, most random ass idea for post-breakup BuckTommy and it just got more and more random the more I kept going. It's all over the place, I kind of rushed near the end, I have no idea where I was going with this. I would call this a fever dream more than I would call it a fic but it's here now so might as well throw it at you guys PS: Don't get fooled by the working title, this is more sappy than sexy

Buck's sex life went from mind-blowing, life-changing and so-so-active to absolutely nothing in what felt like seconds, and unfortunately, his libido hasn't gotten the memo yet. He'd been advised to throw himself out there again multiple times now, but every single cell in his body recoils at the idea. I'm not your last, I'm your first. Yeah well, we'll see about that.

It feels like a no-brainer to start watching gay porn since that's what he's currently missing the most. He jerks off to a handsome guy—the hint of cleft in his chin may or may not have been the reason Buck clicked on the video—fucking into a pretty twunk, and honestly, Buck is having a good time. It’s only when tears begin to swell in his eyes after he comes with Tommy’s name on his lips that he realizes he should not do that again.

The next videos he watches pointedly feature plump bears and dainty twinks, but even then, Buck can't help but make comparisons. Can't hold a rhythm, not attentive enough, where are the reassurances?

Buck comes to a visceral, gut-wrenching realization: Every single guy he considers will have to measure up to one Thomas fucking Kinard from now on.

So.

No gay porn for Buck anymore.

He moves to het videos, and the second realization of his latest porn binge hits him a lot quicker. There is absolutely no way he will ever be able to go back to regular straight sex again. Buck is very, very bi, and even relationships with women will have to be queer from now on.

Of course, porn isn't reality, but being confronted with the exaggerated heteronormativity of it all—the idea of fulfilling a society-given role after Buck learned what things can feel like when he's allowed to be himself—makes his stomach churn.

Living in a post-Tommy world is not an easy feat.

In between baking like he's preparing for an apocalypse, Buck keeps going down a rabbit hole of trying to find porn that would help him take his mind off Tommy.

Luckily, after browsing the most obscure, likely virus-infested websites the internet has to offer, Buck finds a video that instantly becomes a staple in his tabs—a comforting presence whenever he feels lonely, which these days is all the time. He doesn't even bother closing it.

As long as it took him to find the video, it’s quickly forgotten when Tommy and Buck make up.

The reunion is messy and like a balm for Buck's wounds. It is filled with tears and Tommy's ability to make difficult conversations feel easy—something Buck had desperately missed when Tommy chose to walk out of his life. It’s a skill Tommy can apparently lose when he’s petrified with fear. Buck vows to chip away at all of Tommy's worries now that Buck is aware of them. Now that Tommy lets him.

It's strange and not surprising at all how much like coming home it feels to have Tommy back. How easy it is for Buck to cook for them in his kitchen while Tommy looks for something they can watch later on Buck's laptop.

"I found this documentary about hyper-regional food," Tommy says.

Buck perks up from the herbs he's cutting. "Like Threads of God? Do you know that only three women in Sardinia know how to make that type of pasta?"

Tommy hums at that. "Sounds like we don't need to watch it."

Buck laughs and lowers his eyes to the herbs again. "No, I want to. But isn't there a new part of that car restoration series you like?"

"We can watch that later." Tommy emphasizes the last word in a way that makes another part of Buck perk up.

Early in their relationship, they found out that there are few things that can make Buck relax and fall asleep quicker than the sight of competent hands making old things look new to the rhythmic sound of metal being hammered and ground. This means Tommy has to make sure it's him that gets to tire Buck out before the video has a chance to. Thankfully, Tommy seems to be fine with Buck never reaching the end of any of the restoration videos he likes.

Tommy makes an intrigued noise of interest that breaks Buck out of his musings. "Ooor we can watch this."

Buck listens to the sounds of shuffling and smacking, confusion furrowing his brows before recognition seizes him by the throat.

"Oh my God!" The parsley Buck is holding ends up somewhere in Nirvana as he hurriedly frees his hands to grab his laptop. "OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod—" Since when is closing a laptop so fucking difficult?

Tommy lets him fumble for a moment, a teasing smirk playing at his lips. It’s infuriating how he waits until Buck, wide-eyed and pink-cheeked, finally meets his gaze before speaking slowly and deliberately, savoring each syllable.

"Woman With Dragon Dick Fucks Her Precious Girl."

Buck is glad he wasn't cutting chili because there's no way he can stop himself from pressing his fingers into his eyes as he whines, "You don't have to say it out loud!"

"I simply appreciate the originality of the title."

God, why was Buck a firefighter when he couldn't even do anything about his face being on fucking fire?

"Look, I missed you, and I couldn't watch gay porn because they either reminded me too much of you or they weren't you, and regular straight porn was tedious, so I found this feminist porn site, and I didn't feel bad about supporting them, and please, please don't judge—"

"Evan." Tommy says his name in a way that allows no ifs and buts. "I'm not judging." Buck has learned to hold his breath when Tommy speaks to him in that no-nonsense sternness. It's a Pavlovian reaction that sends shivers down his spine. Tommy raises his thumb to the birthmark on Buck's temple, gently brushing it as his voice softens. "I'm taking note." Buck exhales shakily and leans into the touch.

Tommy reaches for the laptop, opens it, and enters the password that Buck shared with him even before they broke up. He moves to stand behind Buck, arms wrapped around him, as he hits play again.

The titular precious girl is on all fours, purring kittenish noises into the mattress as the woman kisses her neck and shoulders, murmuring sweet nothings into her skin. She's fucking her strap-on in between her thighs, making sure the dildo rubs against all the right spots.

"The shape is interesting," Tommy observes. He glances at Evan, unsure of what kind of reaction his comment will provoke. Maybe some more bashfulness, maybe a sweet sigh similar to the ones the girl is making on screen while the dildo enters her.

Instead, Evan turns to him with an excited smile on his full lips. "Yeah, right? I found this website. Wait, hold on—" Evan pauses the video, opens a new tab, and Tommy is hit with the sight of colorful, artfully crafted fantasy dildos. Handmade, apparently.

Evan starts rambling about which ones he finds the most appealing, what media they're inspired by. Tommy has never heard him talk this much about pop culture, and no one is ever allowed to know that Evan learned about Avatar this way. Chimney would get an aneurysm.

Having Evan in his life means being in a constant state of whiplash, and Tommy has learned that he wouldn't have it any other way.

Tommy keeps in mind which ones Evan pointed out and makes a mental note to take a look at the cock sleeves the store has to offer before gently nudging Evan back to the porn.

"What else do you like about the video?" Evan relaxes back into him as they keep watching. Tommy can guess what Evan might find hot about it, but he would like to hear it from Evan before making assumptions. He also just wants to hear Evan, period.

"I like— I like that she's sweet to her? Most of the time, women in straight femdom porn are just mean, like men being dominated by women is automatically degrading. I don't like that."

Tommy hums in acknowledgment, enjoys the small gasp he receives as he dips his fingers into a gap in Evan's button-down shirt, playing with the trail of hair on Evan's stomach. That Evan likes sweet talk isn't new information, but hearing it is always nice. "Keep going," Tommy encourages.

"But she's also kind of… possessive about it? She calls her 'my treasure' a couple of times. I love it when she does. It's like—it's—she—she's—"

"Cherishing her?"

Evan sighs and nods, rubbing his temple against Tommy's.

Tommy leans in, noses at the pulse point of Evan's neck as he goes in for the kill. "Claiming her?"

Evan's moan sounds like it was punched out of him, and Tommy barely has enough time to hold onto the laptop to keep it from being dragged down as Evan turns to kiss him.

Tommy braces himself, gathering more and more courage with each kiss before he makes claims he prays to whatever God might be listening aren’t wrong. "You want me to hold on to you? Make you mine and never let go?"

A heart-wrenching sob escapes Evan's mouth, and Tommy swallows it greedily. "God yes, please!"

Evan keeps pressing pleas against his lips, and Tommy desperately wants to give in, but there is just one small thing that needs to be done first.

"Evan, the thing you're making, can—can that wait?" The last time they allowed themselves to get distracted while cooking, Evan kept pouting afterwards over the food being 'ruined'. In an attempt to cheer him up, Tommy had said that he couldn't tell the difference which had just made things worse. He wouldn't make that mistake again. There are many mistakes he wouldn't make again.

Evan utters a dazed noise before clarity settles into his features. "Oh. Yeah. It'll just marinate."

Tommy nods and moves to turn off the stove, Evan clinging to his side. He returns his attention to Evan, fingers playing with his curls.

The stove was a short distraction, but long enough to ensure that Tommy's next words are spoken with all the gravitas they deserve. "My treasure."

Another broken sound escapes Evan's throat as he burrows into Tommy and continues what they started.

Tommy hates breaking things, but, God, does he love repairing them. He knows he has a lot to make up for, and he will do it happily. If that means wiping away his boyfriend's tears and indulging in his trauma-induced dragon kink, so be it.

[ramblingautisticman]

Inspired by another post that I can't fucking find for some reason anymore because tumblr hates me, but one of my favourite movies is Everything Everywhere All At Once. It's an amazing film with a stunning cast, breathtaking editing and an incredible story.

Now, if you haven't seen the movie, it deals with multiveres (I would argue better than marvel have), so here is a thought.

Imagine, if you will, Wade is trying to explain the fourth wall and multiverse to Logan. Naturally, it would be a struggle. It's a hard concept to grasp, and even though Logan has seen some shit, he would probably still feel a little confused with it all.

So, for a while, Wade just gives up. He's tried at least 80 times and none of them have helped Logan understand, so why should he continue trying?

Until he watches Everything, Everywhere, All At Once. Wade can't believe there is a movie explaining exactly what he wants to explain to Logan. Also, it's just a good movie, which is a bonus.

So Wade VERY excitedly sits Logan down in front of the TV for their weekly Movie Date, presses play on the film, and keeps his eyes on Logan through the whole thing.

By the end, they are both crying from the film, and Wade has to take a second before turning to Logan and shyly asking "So...do you kind of understand now? The...the multiverse and the fourth wall kinda shit?" and Logan just scoops him into a tight hug because "how the fuck do you deal with knowing all that shit?"

[sleepy-grav3]

Glitching issue

So I was getting distracted again. I heard Masochism Tango and Stalker's Tango, wanted a yandere playlist with intense ballroom songs, that types of thing.

And then I thought of another story idea for my current hyperfixation: DCxDP

One of my favorite ships in that fandom is Dead Tired/Brain Dead, cause I love them... so much...

Anyway-

With the context of the yandere ballroom playlist, you should know where I'm going. And I read a few fics/prompts/whatever else you'd call them where it portrays a normally pretty toxic relationship but they're actually in a really healthy relationship.

There was one about mutual stalking, another with kidnapping shenanigans, one that mentioned attempted deprogramming- you get it. (don't ask me for them, I don't know what they're called and there's too much to sift through to find them, very sorry, do feel free to reblog/comment the authors of them or ones that hold some relevance)

But yeah, now I'm making a fic with a playlist as storyline inspiration. Idk the layout yet.

1 Long Chapter : 1 Song

or

Story Arc (probably short) : 1 Song

Always a 1:1 ratio, maybe a special 2 songs here and there? Not sure.

But so far!!! I have the usual: Masochism Tango and Stalker's Tango.

Got the Cell Block Tango ready. El Tango de Roxanne will be there too. I got some waltzes and looking into other types of rhythms like them. Tango, Waltz, thinking about Salsa and Swing, got a few others too

Looking into some less yandere themed songs since I can't solely do it on yandere themes. I want it to be drama filled but with some healthy doses of attraction, y'know?

Yeah, that whole thing is going on a headcannon and an idea.

Ghosts feel things more strongly, so some unhealthy things to humans are meh or minimum level things to ghosts. Because of this, Danny's a bit unhealthy in what he considers love (his vigilante life didn't help with that, especially with Vlad), but his human side keeps it more on the downlow

There's a different species of beings that are immortal in a way: The Undying. Life loves them or they're obsessed with Life. Tim is one of the only true Undying. They're as rare as true Halfas.

So... yeah. Love this little idea. Been working on it for a few hours now. And I need help. Song recommendations mostly, storyline ideas are welcome.

I'll be posting a playlist once I get it all sorted out, chronologically, and the outline of the story put up. The summary will be a genuine summary and not just some background info or a quick sentence like I usually do.

But I want a happy ending. No bittersweet, no hurt/barely any or no comfort, no fully angst-

I need some kind of betrayal for someone to go to jail TvT

Will it be Tim or Danny? Who fits best as a viewer for Cell Block Tango, just casually listening to people talk about killing (and that one framed murder).

Who's the one that lives off the thrill of getting hurt (I'm thinking more of the bdsm way, but also the "I'll only let you hurt me" type of way too? Doesn't have to be physical or verbal or even intentional... I'm making this sound worse-)

I got this one part for the Roxanne one

The yandere is "cheating", no idea if it's fake or a previous relationship, or whatever. still under planning for that.

And the "victim" is the one who's begging the yandere to not deceive them. Maybe they've been lied to a bunch of times, maybe they really don't want false hope, maybe they're fine with an open relationship as long as the yandere doesn't leave- idk, but the "victim" is the one who's pulling the strings during then.

I'm trying to think of who's the other person, the yandere, and the "victim". Who's who? Not sure. And how does it fit with the rest of the songs too... Ugh, I really should just do oneshots T^T But I can't at the moment, not with the ideas-

So yeah

Ideas? Song recommendations? Character ideas? Scene prompts????

Please?

Oh, and this post is named glitching because it broke my fucking computer. I don't have a mouse anymore. Luckily, it's touchscreen and the keyboard still works. Still annoying though

[galgali]

just gonna answer all of these bc i want to hope that's cool

like everyone else my favorite episode is 25 😔 (special shoutout to the last ten minutes of episode 37 though that is one of the best show endings i've ever seen in my life)

like rem. i'd be all over that

honestly for a while

i want to answer this but the opposite way-- i think kabru from dungeon meshi would thrive in death note skjfgdfjg (and light would make a great trigun villain)

sooo many (death note is a comedy) but probably the funniest sequence to me in the whole thing is when they're at school and light calls misa to get L's name and is incredibly smug and maniacal about it and then L picks up the phone

first one of course

light 😔

GOD.... WHY DID I ALMOST TEAR UP AT L'S DEATH EVEN WHEN I KNEW THAT WOULD HAPPEN FOR OVER A DECADE... THAT WAS CRAZY

my FAAAAVORITE light yagami song is bird song by florence + the machine. it's so so so so him it's crazy i can't believe there's not a billion amvs of it

matsuda OBVIOUSLY. also naomi and honestly L like that would be so funny

omg the end of the yotsuba arc where everyone on the task force starts touching the death note and everyone can see the shinigami was crazy i loved how that was done. but also as someone who somehow was not spoiled on what misa's actual role is and only knew her as "light's girlfriend or something" for 12 years, finding out that she also has a death note was surprising and so cool!

read the hinterland doctrine NOW. YES ALL 700K. CLEAR YOUR SCHEDULE AND DO IT RIGHT NOW.

i'm clinically insane over lawlight sorry. also a big remisa fan though

adult sayu....? i guess....? 😭

oh ABSOLUTELY matsuda obviously but also deeply ryuk. i'm also here to laugh at everything, go "oh you're crazy crazy" to light yagami, and pester people to feed me my favorite food

the entirety of light's warehouse speech because the voice acting for it is insanely good, and especially the "who else could have done it and come this far?" line

literally how shinigami use the death note. which is crazy because that's the whole premise but i feel like that's so weirdly unexplained?? like ryuk says that shinigami are doing fuckall in their realm and not even killing humans anymore but isn't being reaped by a shinigami how humans die? clearly people were still dying like normal before light got the note?? we never see any shinigami do "regularly scheduled" death note kills at all so HOW is ANY of this working

PERIWINKLEEEEEEE ☺️ (also they do in the jdrama! misa's is red it's so cute)

CUNTY! i'd need some strappy goth fit that could also double as charli xcx concert clothing

SALT AND VINEGARRRRR

other than some stupid posts here and there, the one i'm currently working on is a fic where L uses the death note and i'm very pleased with the idea... time will tell if i do anything with it

that mello and near are meant to represent L's two halves-- emotion and logic respectively

the rain/foot scene in the anime, but the entire blue scene in the jdrama. god. i'm not over that. there's soooo much you can read into for both of those scenes

misa of courseeee

episode 2 :') episode 1 was already fun but episode 2 was where it REALLY grabbed me. i LOVED seeing the set-up of light versus L and how the lind l. tailor thing + the resulting SCATHING call-out that followed played out. i was just having so, so, so much fun with it and continued to have a lot of fun with it

my favorite character is unfortunately light so everything bad that happened to him i was cheering for and he deserved it buuuuut if i had to pick a saddest thing to happen. i really adore everything about his death and there is something undeniably tragic about the scene where he runs past the vision of his younger self. i love that light, corrupted beyond belief, bleeding out and running away like a coward, has to face the memory of who he was before he ruined himself forever, and has to face just how much he's fallen and lost everything. it's incredibly cathartic for the audience to see light finally have to recognize that he's failed beyond redemption, even minutes before his death

💀🪽🥱->📕🌏->📕👦-> 💀💀💀💀💀💀->🇱🤔->🇱👦->🇱🔗👦->🏳️‍🌈❓->👦🫱📕->⌚🖊️->🇱💀->👦🥳->👦🪦💃->💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀->🇳➕Ⓜ️🟰💀🪽🖊️👦📕->👦💀->🥳

oh my godddd picking just one is so hard when death note honestly has some of my favorite official art of anything ever. i just love the style of it, the colors, and the imagery used. so i'll just use a recent favorite which is:

29. THE 2015 JDRAMA.... i jokingly call it death note stampede because it feels like a remix of the source material in a similar way as trigun stampede, but as with stampede, i also really love it. for the most part the differences it makes are pretty interesting and i think it stands really well on its own. while i love how unapologetically evil canon light is i also love how tortured light is in this one and how much desperation is in his relationship with L. it's a fascinating take on death note! (and in many ways, a much more cohesive one) also a huge fan of the musical though

30. REM.... i love her so much. i would say naomi but i've yet to read the bb case (SORRY I WILL I PROMISE). also kiyomi had such fascinating potential but o&o are too misogynist to do anything about it 🥲 the pattern here is just female characters.

Favorite chapter/episode?

If you had a Death Note, what would you want your Shinigami to look like?

How long do you think you could get away with hiding a Death Note?

If your favorite character weren’t in Death Note, what anime/manga do you think they would thrive in?

A scene that makes you laugh.

Which is your favorite opening?

Your favorite kira?

The death that affected you the most.

What song(s) fit the vibe of your favorite character?

A character you would hang out with irl.

What moment surprised you the most?

What is a fanwork (edit, fic, art, etc.) that you still think about to this day? (Pls link to the original!)

Favorite ships?

What character do you think you look the most like?

Which character’s personality do you relate to?

A line from the series that stuck with you.

A question that was never answered, but you wonder about all the time.

If Death Notes came in different colors, what color would yours to be?

What would be your staple kira catching outfit?

Favorite potato chip flavor?

A Death Note fanwork that you’ve made and are proud of.

A favorite Death Note theory.

Your favorite interaction.

Who do you think had the best style?

At what point did you fall in love with Death Note?

Saddest moment for your favorite character.

Lay out the plot of Death Note using only emojis.

Favorite official art.

Favorite Death Note Spin off media.

A character that needs to be mentioned more.  

[leeny-leens]

Knives Out (Wounds In) | BCJ x Reader

Pairing: bsf!Barty Crouch Jr x bsf! Reader

Summary: You accidentally stab Barty and he...asks for more?

Warnings: BLOOD, STABBING, INJURIES, Barty has issues,I've never dressed a thigh wound before, description of injury being taken care off, Barty likes pain (and blood), proceed with caution okay I'm sleep deprived

Content: Barty and the Reader are a little unhinged, Barty is having a crisis, Barty being called doll (courtesy of @vun3r4b13xwrites for this brain rot), not proofread or edited, Barty makes like one really dark joke abt dying but it's not too dark

WC: 3.83k

AN: this was inspired by a post of @unconventional-lawnchair and honestly idek what happened, it somehow spiraled into being something much longer and ??? than anticipated so have this. Also tagging @esotericloser BCS ya said ya want it <3

Being friends with Barty meant that there wasn't much that could actually traumatize you anymore when it came to gory horror. Oh no, you’re bound lose that ability quite quickly in his company, with the way he walked around looking like a splasher horror victim half of the time. He barley ever had an explanation for it either, always shrugging and mumbling something incoherent about where the blood on him came from.

So really, you'd say you're pretty desensitized when it came to blood and injuries, especially when it came to Barty being bloodied and injured.

Nothing however, could have prepared you for the sight of your very own dagger piercing his thigh, blood spilling and splashing on the ground and wall.

It's your worst nightmare come true; a loved one injured and bloodied because of you and your stupidity, though Barty would go on a tangent, chiding you for the self deprecating notion of that thought.

The boy in question, you just noticed, stood by the open door, his face pulled into a blend between amusement and a grimace of pain as he stared between the dagger and your frozen form on your bed.

“Damn doll, when I said your stare could throw daggers at me I didn't think you'd take it seriously,” he said, painfully failing to conceal the wince in his voice as he joked.

The sound of his voice was apparently all your brain needed to reboot itself and jumpstart again. Immediately, you hurled yourself up from the bed, standing by his side in a few quick strides as you crouched down to examine the injury on his thigh.

“Merlin I’m sorry Bee, I was doing that stupid Charms assignment and- and you just came in and I panicked and oh my god are you gonna die?” there was seemingly no stopping you the moment you began to speak, the words stumbling out in no rhyme or rhythm as you tried to remember what little you’d learned about first aid.

In your panic, there wasn't much you remembered aside for needing to stop the bleeding somehow and making sure to keep his leg raised high, or was it keep it low to prevent bleeding? You couldn't recall it, your mind too riddled with guilt and terror at the vast amount of blood staining the carpet.

“You can't die on me,” you whimpered, tears barley held at bay “They're gonna expell me if they find out I killed you-”

The sudden realization of who your best friend was hit you harder than any hex you've sustained in your lifetime before you stared up at him with terror blown eyes “Oh my god your father is sending me to Azkaban for killing his only heir.”

This was evidently the straw that broke the camels back, Barty finally doubled over from laughter, his barking voice probably resonating through the entirety of the dormitory. His laughter quickly turned into pressed coughs as he tried to straighten back up again, mild gasps of pain escaping him in-between. Quickly, you're on your feet again, gently yet firmly guiding him to your bed and hissing at him to not put any weight on his injured leg.

To his credit, he let you push him around like a pliant ragdoll, following your instructions and keeping his pretty mouth shut aside for a few pained noises here there. His eyes flickered between you and the dagger, regarding the latter with a glimmer of fascination and you could tell it took everything in him to not poke at the metal protruding from his flesh.

“Relax doll,” he said in an attempt to reassure you “’M not gonna die yeah? Tis but a scratch.” As if trying to convince you, he tapped the dagger lightly, smiling at you with that wide expression, his lips pulled apart so much it brought his dimple out. “See? I've survived worse,” he added, and to your utter dismay, it did help calm you down.

“Right, it's probably worse than it looks like” you muttered, taking a few deep breaths to compose yourself before finally gathering your thoughts to help him. “Okay, stay right there and don't move okay?” you threw him a warning glare before disappearing into the bathroom, occasionally glancing over your shoulder to make sure he was following your instructions. You knew staying still was hard for Barty, his natural inclination to always be in motion was one of the biggest hurdles he faced in his day to day life. He couldn't sit still for longer than a few minutes, not without bouncing his leg or tapping his fingers against the nearest surface or hell, rocking back and forth. Don't get him started on people telling him to be still, that somehow made it much harder to comply than if he tried to do it on his own.

He was however, trying his best to stay still, probably to not worry you more than he already had, and you appreciated his cooperation immensely.

Returning back to his side, you knelt down at the bedside and set down a plain white box and opened it, revealing various bandages, potions and vials along side bandaids and scissors of different types and sizes.

Barty decided to stay silent, watching your movements with an attentive, hawk-like gaze and arched his eyebrows in surprise as you grabbed the biggest pair of scissors, only to bring it to the hem of his pant leg, quickly cutting through the dark fabric.

“You know,” he said amused, watching you cut apart his pants “This is not how I imagined you undressing me would go, could've taken me out to dinner first at least.”

“You're so lucky you already have a stab wound,” you replied dryly, moving the fabric away to reveal the pale skin of thigh and barley held back your grimace at the sight of the dagger lodged into it. “Otherwise that comment would've gotten you one.” you grabbed a whole bunch of gauzes and disinfectant, slowly trying to assess how bad the wound was in order to decide your next course of action.

This was the part you'd feared the most, the one where you pulled the dagger out.

As if he’d read your mind, Barty reached out to take your hand into his, bringing it to his lips so he could press a kiss on your knuckles. “It's gonna be okay doll,” he murmured softly “I trust you, you're bloody brilliant and you don't have to be scared of this.”

It was comical really, how he'd gotten hurt because of you and yet was the one to offer you comfort and reassurance. Had this been anyone else, you would've scoffed and thrashed against the gesture, but this was Barty, your Barty, who'd watched you overcome every obstacle in your life for the last six years, your Barty who knew you like the back of his hand and studied you like you were the biggest mystery in the universe to be unraveled. You could only nod in agreement, squeezing his hand tightly as you steadied your breath to pull out the dagger.

You vaguely remembered how Madam Pomfrey would talk up injured students to distract them from procedures, and you decided that if the matron of the hospital wing did it, it couldn't be that stupid of an idea to try out.

“Why did you come into my room?”

you asked suddenly, and he leaned back into the nest of pillows you had propped against your headboard.

He shrugged, a lopsided grin on his face. “No reason, just wanted to see my favourite person,” despite all the years with him as your best friend, the response still managed to draw out an over exaggerated eyeroll from you, one that did nothing to mask the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips.

You questioned him some more, asking about his day and what he was going to do, and because this was your Barty, you knew he wouldn't pass up an opportunity to talk your ear off, the dagger in his thigh quickly forgotten. Fortunately for you, that meant you could pull it out with one smooth movement, granting Barty barley any time to register the pain before you began to press a mountain of gauzes against the wound. The white fabric quickly became a soaked, scarlet mess and you could hear his breath hitch at the sight, not the way it would've from pain, but rather from something akin to speechlessness. He watched you press against the wound, switching out gauze after gauze whenever it became unusable after soaking up too much blood, and he was sure the blood rushing to his head at the sight of your fingers gleaming with the red liquid of him was significantly more fatale than the stab wound to his thigh. There was just something so primitively alluring about the sight, your face contorted into a grimace of worry and concentration as you applied moderate yet firm pressure against his thigh, not minding how dirty your hands became in the process. It didn't help that it was him sullying your pretty hands, and he swore his soul left his body when you moved a stray strand of hair out of your face, cursing when you felt the blood smear on your cheek.

He wanted nothing more but to lean forward and wipe it off, perhaps clean it up with his own mouth just to see how he tasted on you, but he remained rigidly seated like a statue, his mind a battle field of desire and rationality.

You were none the wiser to his predicament, taking his sudden silence as a side effect of pain or shock. You took to murmuring encouragement and random things about your own day, partially to fill the silence and partially to make sure the boy was still rooted into reality instead of floating into the realm of dark memories, just on the off chance that the sight of his own blood and the feeling of pain brought them forward. You told him about the stupid Charms project you’d taken up for extra credit, letting a dagger float around in a coordinated pattern, and how you'd been sitting at it for hours on end before he barged into your room, startling you into sending the dagger straight at him. He made the occasional grunt of agreement or let out a snort at a particularly funny joke you cracked, and after a few minutes that felt like an eternity, the bleeding finally seemed to stop enough for you to be able to actually inspect the wound.

It looked worse than it actually is, not too deep and not too long, and your entire body slumped in relief at the realization. For a moment, you rested your head in your hands, muttering thanks to whatever might hear you. “Thank everything you're not gonna die,” you said once you looked at Barty again, whose attention had been on you the entire time. “What a pity,” he replied almost too plainly, yet the grin on his face betrayed the self deprecating statement. “Here I was looking forward to bringing joy into my father's life for once,” you rolled your eyes so hard you worried they might actually fall out, and you could only lean forward to hit his shoulder with a warning scoff. “Don't be mean to my best friend,” you chided “That's my job, I can't afford to lose it in this economy.”

“So true, the prices are ridiculously high these days,” he mused, eyes glimmering as he watched you disinfect the wound and bandage it up.

“Exactly! I mean come on, 5 galleons for a pack of chocolates frogs? Do they think all of us are made of trust funds and old money?” Barty is unable to hold in his snort at your statement, reminiscing how you haven't let it go ever since your last trip to Hogsmeade nearly a month ago. If anyone knew how to hold a grudge, it was his doll for sure.

Absentmindedly, your fingers traced slow circles around the red, angry skin of the gash, careful to not press or touch anything that might elicit unnecessary pain. Barty’s entire body went stiff at the soft touch, so gentle and soothing, like he was made of porcelain and too fragile, the lightest press of your thumb against his thigh a breaking hazard. It was a stark contrast to how he was usually treated, but he’d come to accept it from you. While he hated being seen as vulnerable and weak- because he was everything but that-, he found himself relishing your touch and care, for it stemmed not from pity or underestimation but genuine care and love. And oh how he soaked up every ounce of affection you gave him, starved of it for his whole life but finding you there to give it to him like a steady stream flowing from the creek of your heart.

You took his stiffness as a sign of discomfort and swiftly withdrew your hand to stop the ministrations, almost missing the imperceptible whine of dissatisfaction that barely escaped the boy’s lips. When you stared at him with a puzzled look on your face, he greeted you with one of his own, cleverly covering for his mindless slip-up.

When it seemed like he hadn’t actually made any sound, you were content to get back to treating the wound, your fingers brushing over the tools in the first aid kit.

After realising the wound wasn't life threatening, your mind had cleared up significantly, rendering you able to think and remember what you needed to do to properly take care of the gash. You grabbed a bottle of blue disinfectant alongside more of the gauze, dousing the latter in the blue solution before pressing it against the injury.

The lack of warning, coupled with the sudden action, had Barty hissing and bucking in pain, even if the momentary sting left an aftertaste of pleasure in its wake.

You glanced up at him, your expression one of sheepish apology, before dapping the gauze carefully on the cut.

“’M so sorry, just a bit more yeah doll?” you murmured, your other hand coming up to rub along his knee. Barty wasn't sure what knocked out the breathe out of his lungs; the endearment or the touch or perhaps the sincerity and care that he could feel seeping into his cold and hollow bones with every second he spent in your presence. If getting stabbed by you meant he could have you this close, this warm and soft and attentive all for him? Merlin, he'd let you stab him over and over again, like he was your personal pin cushion.

He tried to keep the noise to a minimum, alongside the flinching in fear of losing your touch. The last thing he wanted was for you to let go of him, as selfish as that sounded. He quite liked having your full attention on him, like nothing else in the world mattered as much as he did.

Selfish and self-centred? Maybe.

Did he give a fuck? Not in the slightest.

A tap against his knee brought him out of his reveries, and his eyes met yours in a questioning manner. “Whadya say, darlin’?” he asked, trying his best to sound casual “Too busy enjoying your hands on me.”

His comment drew an amused chuckle from you, much too used to his flirtations. You never quite knew whether he meant it or not, all those playful jabs and nudges that toyed the line between friendship and something more, yet neither of you made a move to explore that territory, too afraid to lose what you had.

“I said I’m putting some of that scarring ointment on the wound,” you said, repeating the statement that had been lost on him. You’d already grabbed the small tub with the greenish paste. When you uncapped it, dipping your finger into it to apply it to his wound, you were surprised by his sudden recoiling, as if the mere notion of applying the ointment would sear his skin down to his bones.

“Bee?” You asked, surprised to see him flinch away from you.

He was mortified at his own reaction, not having had enough time to control his movements. He didn’t quite know how he could explain this to you, why he flinched away when you’ve been nothing but a perfect caretaker, inspecting and treating his injury.

Just as he began to sputter out a messy apology and an explanation, realisation dawned on you. You weren’t stupid, just like Barty knew you better than anyone else, you had the privilege of knowing him like no one else had. You’d watched him get into fights more often than you could count. You’d talked to him plenty about it of course, unable to just stand by as he destroyed himself, body and soul, over and over again. What had bothered you the most was him never properly taking care of his injuries, opting to let them fester and scar until his entire body was littered with gashes and cuts of various sizes. Over time, you’d come to understand that he didn’t necessarily enjoy the act of fighting itself, but rather how alive he felt with each punch, with each crack and broken bone. The scars were a testament to his existence, proof that he hadn’t been complete worn numb by life and its hardships. He liked the reminders, liked to look at them and trace along their edges whenever he felt himself slip away into the darkest corners of his mind, and you’d figured that this gash was no exception.

“You want it to scar,” you said, not a question but rather a fact. You watched as colour rushed into his pale face, mouth falling open and closing in a comical fashion. He could muster up nothing more than a nod, knowing that trying to talk his way out of this wasn’t an option.

Softly, you traced along the edge of the gash, your eyes never once leaving his. “Why?” There wasn’t an ounce of judgment in your voice as you posed the question, just pure curiosity and the need to understand him.

Silence blanketed the room as you patiently waited for him to answer your question. His eyebrows furrowed in that typical Barty manner, the one that made the silver piercings in his eyebrows more visible, catching the lights around him. When he spoke up, his voice was quiet, almost too quiet, as if afraid that speaking any louder might shatter both you and him.

“I want your mark on me,” from all the answers he could’ve given you, this one was the last one you’d expected, yet somehow the most perfect Barty answer of them all. His love had always been that way, all teeth and scratches, leaving marks in its wake as evidence that he had been there. In the same fashion, it made sense that he wanted love in the same manner; with marks left on him to prove that he was loved.

It was crazy, really, how much you understood him. It should’ve scared you, weirded you out at least, but no such sensations arised. There was only love and understanding cursing through your body for the boy you called your best friend.

Emboldened by his vulnerability, you found yourself leaning in closer, your lips ghosting over the edge of the gash before pressing them down in a gentle kiss. “It’s alright,” you mumbled “You can keep it Bee, ‘m not judging you.”

His breath hitched at the feeling of your lips pressed so closely to the wound, mind reeling at having you so close, so understanding and so incredibly loving despite him being so himself, a warning in and out of itself.

“Does that mean you’d be down to giving me another one?” He asked jokingly, trying his best to lighten the mood by even an ounce.

“Maybe,” you quipped back, pulling one of the bandaids out to put it over the wound. “If you ask nicely, I might,” you grinned up at him, enjoy in seeing him squirm for once. His eyes drifted to the dagger, mind running wild with anticipation.

“Please?”

“Is that the best you got, doll?”

“Bold statement for someone who just stabbed me,” he retorted “And took off my pants without asking!”

With a snort, you stood up, patting his thigh softly before putting the first and kit on the ground to sit beside him. “Well when you put it that way, I have no choice but to oblige, no?” You grabbed the dagger, twirling it in your hand before you ever so slowly lowered it down to graze the skin of his thigh.

He was completely still beneath your touch, his breath shallow as he waited for your next move. There was no hurry in your movements, the glinting tip of the dagger barely tracing across his flesh. “What do we say when we want something, doll?” You asked, amused by the extreme change in his behaviour. You’d never seen Barty so complacent and mellow in all your years together, much less because of you.

“Please,” he mumbled “Give me another one?” Subconsciously, he’d leaned in closer to you, hazel eyes almost completely swallowed up by the darkness of his pupils.

A small smile tugged on the corners of your mouth, and not wanting to tease him any further, you pressed the blade into his skin.

You watched as he bit his lips, trying to the best of his abilities to not wince in pain and spurred on by the heat of the moment, you closed the distance between the two of you, crashing your lips against his. The sounds of pain he let out were swallowed by your mouth, moving in frenzied hunger as you let the dagger blade dig deeper into his thigh.

In that moment, you realised two things.

One: You were in love with Barty Crouch Junior, your best friend since first year.

Two: You were incredibly and thoroughly fucked, for you would go to the ends of hell for this boy, the same way you knew without a doubt he would do the same.

And here, in the quiet of your dorm room, your mouth on his and the distinct, metallic smell of blood, you didn’t quite mind going to the ends of hell if it meant you could have Barty by your side.

[numberonetacostan]

homeless taco head cannons break my heart

….

so uh.

have any?

Hello there!!!!^^ Welcome, and thank you for sending in your request!!! :] YOU BET I HAVE HEADCANONS FOR HOMELESS TACO!!! I THINK I'VE SAID SOME IN VARIOUS ANSWERS/POSTS BEFORE BUT I'LL TRY PUTTING ONES I DON'T THINK I'VE POSTED BEFORE!!! YAY HOMELESS HEADCANONS REQUEST!!!!! I love getting hc requests of any sort!!!^^

-Justin confirmed from one of my stream questions that Taco had stolen food from the hotel while she was homeless!!! I definitely think she avoided doing this at all costs, but during winters when she couldn't forage much if any food from the woods, she'd sneak into the hotel at night after like, a week of not eating to grab as much as she can and gtfo!!! Normally she could probably get in and out safely, but again, she hasn't eaten in a week. I think she would get caught by Pepper, who I had mentioned in my one-hc-for-everyone post to be the resident chef in the hotel!!! It's winter so it gets dark early, and Taco has no sense for what time it is other than the sun, so she accidentally goes in too early and Pepper walks in on her raiding the cabinets. Pepper is understandably surprised, but Taco tries to deescalate!! With her current state though, it comes off more like begging Pepper not to rat her out, and I honestly don't think she would. We have a very homeless, starving, freezing, and bedraggled Taco, and Pepper just can't bring herself to do it. She just turns to whatever food she's making and warns Taco that OJ or Paper might be in the check on the meal any moment. Taco leaves and Pepper never says a word. Sorry about the Tacopep friendship propaganda but i want them to be friends.

-I think Taco would spend a lot of time in the Gemory Cave!! It's basically the only "inside" she can access for when it's snowing, raining, etc., yeah? Staying in the forest during a thunderstorm would be more danger than it's worth for her, and with all the tunnels she'd be able to stay hidden pretty well. I'd say she has a few hidey holes in there, small enough that only she and a handful of contestants would even be able to get inside, where she keeps her most important possessions. At least, what she can't hold in her shell, yeah?

-Mephone did not program Taco with the proper knowledge or skills to survive in the wild. She had to figure everything out through trial and error, including what food is and isn't safe to eat. She had a lot of miserable evenings in those early days, throwing up what little she had managed to scrounge together for a meal, hallucinations, headaches, etc., etc.

--Due to these skills though, she's kinda the MVP of the group post-canon. She's the only one who has a lot of these skills and can work successfully with only the resources they can get from the land. She keeps them from going through the same trial and error phase that she had to, especially important now that they can't recover anymore.

-I think she put the sign in front of the Perilous Forest there herself while she was living in the woods, to keep the others from coming in and finding her. What's so perilous about it? Her.

-Rather than sleeping on the ground, I see her sleeping in trees. She's a Taco, she could reasonably nudge herself into a position in which she won't fall, and at least try to fall asleep. It would be a bit risky if case she fell, but it's definitely better than the risk of getting caught unawares. I don't see her sleeping nearly enough when she's homeless, though, and post-canon when she's in the mansion she sleeps for like 27 hours straight and feels better than she has in years.

-I mentioned in another recent post Taco being afraid of snow because of past instances of severe hypothermia!!! And, yeah, if it snows, or even just gets cold enough, she's fucked. The best she has is the cave, and even then, it wouldn't help much. And she's malnourished, which makes her even more prone to it!!! She does not get proper treatment ever!!!!! I'd say she's had some very, very close calls with frostbite, maybe a rough case of pneumonia or two, more hallucinations because they're great for angst, irregular heartbeat (if they have hearts), etc., etc.

Hopefully these seven are enough!!! If you do want more, feel free to let me know!!! Headcanons are so much fun, I'm always happy to answer requests like these!!!^^

[feluka]

the solution to the cinemasins conundrum is to allow yourself to be pedantic and nitpicky about minute details that don't matter BUT to do so with the understanding that it isn't a valid metric to measure media's quality upon. do it for your own personal self satisfaction. it's enriching. you work in a very specific field or you're studying a niche major and it always haunts you? have quality time with your ghosts. i sadly can't find the post anymore but earlier i saw a post of someone analyzing the environments in my favourite videogame (tales of the abyss) to pick out all the OSHA violations and concluded that that world is a perilous disaster. but there was no anger at the game for that or rebuking the delevopers. they were like "cool game 10/10 but what if i was self indulgent and gave myself a little task to have fun with." same with those playthroughs of real lawyers playing ace attorney. i thought it would be insufferable because clearly ace attorney exists in a looney tunes-esque universe and trying to apply real logic to it is an exercise in futility but the lawyers playing were genuinely having fun and giggling and pausing to explain how these things would go down in real life but with no venom in their speech. don't let anyone shame you out of pushing your glasses up your nose and saying "um, actually," as long as you're not ruining anybody else's fun with it!

[cherry-sofa-729]

I've just read your post about Jason Todd and can't help but wonder what you think Bruce's reaction would be like to how much he'd changed. How would the conversation between him and Jason (and maybe even other batfam members (for example Alfred)) go as they've been through a lot separately and together, and it would be hard to not say and not do a thing when he'd (/they'd) find out or simply notice the difference.

You have an interesting take on Jason, so I'd like to know what else you can add to what you've already said! And I really think the boy deserves to eat well and be healthy after everything that happened to him (after starving, dying, the Pit and coming back to life). And he deserves to be with his loving, supportive family (even if it is an unusual one).

I think B is himself about it (“hnn”, his usual emotionally distant/repressed self, because god forbid this man express a feeling) but on the inside he definitely has Thoughts.

Much like Dick, he doesn’t want the unhealthy, hungry, prepubescent baby Jason back, but he also doesn’t exactly expect (or want) 6’6 nearly 300lbs giant Jason either.

That doesn’t mean he says anything- I feel like their conversation when he notices goes like this

B: …what is your height and weight, now?

Jason: 6’6 I think and no idea. But you don’t need to stuff food into my face anymore. We’re good on that front.

B: …and you are healthy?

Jason: I’m a zombie, Bruce, what the fuck do you mean ‘am I healthy?’ Im not 6 feet under, so I’m healthy, okay? Jesus Christ just say you think I’m fat

B: I was not trying to imply…

Jason: you never are

B: I’m glad you are healthy. And alive. And here. (Clears throat) now back to business-

Because he’s B, and he’s observant and shows love via gifts and silence, he gets Jason the most Embarrassing Dad Gift Ever- cream to make the stretch marks… less noticeable.

(You ever get like- acne soap from your parents and it’s like- man you are not subtle huh, glad to know you know about that insecurity/s)

Jason is so mad and confused and mad he literally is left speechless

(As for Alfred, I think this man made the correct observation that not bringing it up would be doing Jason a kindness- he does make sure to get Jason some clothes that are big on him, so he can snuggle up in them like he used to, when everything was big on him)

[glitter-stained]

I’m trying to get a handle on Jason as a character. I got a great answer on Jason and Tim from @ultimate-marysue but they directed me to you as the Jason Todd expert. I’m wondering about Jason and Damian now. Do they interact at all in canon? Are they friendly/friends, typical brothers, enemies, or just acquaintances? Or do they just ignore each other?

I hope you can give me an answer. Thanks either way!

Oh goodness, that's because @ultimate-marysue is an absolute sweetheart but unfortunately my Jason knowledge is far from exhaustive, especially when it comes to Jason and Damian since some of their relationship happens in, um, unfortunate comics that are hard for me to get through (they probably say that because I study developmental psychopatholgy and do in-depth analysis about jason through that length rather than exhaustive lore-knowledge).

Sorry to toss you around like a pingpong ball, but I know @daisybell-on-a-carousel is currently trying to read through every single one of Jason's apparitions in comics (godspeed), so depending of where they're at in the comics they're definitely the one to ask for stuff like that in general. Unfortunately, I don't know anyone who posts a lit of lore/meta about Damian and Jason's relationship, but I do know @spicy-apple-pie loves Damian a lot and does really sweet comics so idk if they can help you but at the very least if they can't you'll get to read some cute comics.

The little I know about Jason and Damian's relationship:

-Jason and Damian's first meeting, from what I've gathered, is either from Battle for the Cowl (brutally butchers Jason's character, my second least favourite ever if I could go back in time to stop Tony Daniel from writing it I would), in which Jason shoots Damian in the chest, or Morrison's Batman & Robin run (somehow even more hated by the fans than Daniel, Morrison has admitted later to just not liking Jason's character. According to a survey I'm running these two are in the top three of worst Jason writers, but Morrison has a bonus of also butchering Talia's character to an unfathomable level and I don't know if I like his Damian very much either.) in that run (which is Dickbats with robin!Damian) Jason is portrayed as the classic "crazy evil villain" bs and making Dick his sworn-enemy apparently (he's more of a plot device than anything imo). So, we're off to a great start.

-The issue is, with the reboot, I find it pretty hard to clarify for some events which ones are still canon or not. The current state of dc comics is pushing the batfam conception more than ever before, with Jason back in the family (something that vaguely happened off-screen in the n52) and neither jason, dick, tim, damian nor anybody else seems to reference or resent anything about that despite how cartoonishly evil jason was in those so I think it's implied that they're not canon anymore (and I hope they stay this way and buried under twenty layers of retcon). However I don't think I've heard or seen any mention of a different first meeting for them so there's this shadow area of yeah btfc and morrison's jason probably didn't happen but then what did?

-currently as I said dc (ie tom king amongst others) pushes for a very "classical family batfam vibe" so they're on panel/on missions together but i haven't heard of them having arcs together in mainline (people who know more than me please feel free to correct me in the notes, in general but also if there's more about this specifically). I'm getting "siblings that don't really like eachother but don't hate eachother either vibes", especially on Damian's part. It's really not the most developed relationship in the batfam, of that I'm sure.

-for many people I've seen that their favourite damian and jason comic is juni ba's boy wonder volume 2. It isn't canon in mainline (and not my favourite jason characterization tbh) but since the two of them don't seem to interact that much in canon and the story is pretty popular and feels kinda parallel-ish to canon I get why people would consider it their reference. Also it has pretty sick designs for the both of them which certainly doesn't hurt.

-in the young justice show, a brainwashed/brain damaged(?) Jason is shown holding a baby Damian in his arms. This has no incidence on any dc comics canon but is extremely cute and therefore worth mentioning.

[nadinescholtes]

Q&A

About sending Asks:

-No NSFW, AI, NFT stuff

-don't send me pictures of your Ocs, it’s very sweet of you to want to show them to me, you are doing great! But my ask boy gets easily full of them. Same with if my OCs would meet/befriend your Oc. Don't DM them to me too, they are full!

-I don't do requests! You can always commission me if you want me to draw something for you. Responding with art is something I do on my own.

-If you ask something that was asked already many times I will most likely not respond.

Can I draw or write something about you Ocs or Oc's universes?

Go for it! Just add credits please, and tag or send links to me so I can see them.

Why don't you answer my asks or DM's?

Sometimes Tumblr is weird and Asks just disappear even though my Inbox says there is still something in there, but doesn't show up. My asks or DM's can be too full and it takes time to respond to all of you. Or you ignored my Ask rules.

Do you write fics?

Not really, I do write stories but not in the way you're used to fics. They're like scripts because I write those before I do comics.

Can I repost your art?

No, even if you credit it! You can reblog here on Tumblr or Bluesky. But I will not allow it because of Art theft!

Can I use your TSBS or Laia comics for Dubs?

Sure, but please ask first and use credits! Even if you make a Dub of an already dubbed video of my comics and that creator gives you permission, ASK ME TOO PLEASE! And send me links I want to see it. But don't use comics like Cool Uncle or from other books!

Can I use your art for AI or NFT?

HELL NO!

What is your gender identity/pronouns?

I'm a woman. My pronunciation is she/her, but I'm also comfortable with they/them. (I actually don't care about what pronouns you use for me)

What do you use to make art?

-IMac that is over 10 years old and can't handle much anymore.

-Cintiq UX21

-Clip Studio Paint

-Krita

Do you do livestreams?

I wish and I tried but my old computer gets easily overheated.

What is your job?

I'm an independent illustrator (but still part job hunting). I draw commissions to pay the bills and hold my head barely above the water. And no I don't earn money with the TSBS comics, they are drawn with the little free time I have. (or in the middle of the night, because I can't sleep)

Did you study art?

Yes, I made my graduation in arts and a bachelor of arts in communication design. But to be honest I learned how to draw on my own.

What books did you work on?

You can find them in my portfolio. I had many book/comic commissions and a few of my own like Cool Uncle.

When will the next page of Cool Uncle come out?

I know, 12 pages are left for me to draw, but commissions come first. And right now I have a strong obsession with TSBS and work on those in my free time, so I will work on Cool Uncle when I have the motivation again.

Are you neurodivergent?

Yup, I have Autism and a learning disability. And other mental health issues I won't go into depth here.

How old are you?

Old...

You have so many websites, which are you most active on?

Tumblr and Bluesky, the others are just for dumping my art, and will most likely not or late respond to the comments and Dm's there.

Do you have Kofi?

Kofi, here you go! I also have a Patreon but I post there rarely...

[ink-asunder]

The absolute separation and dissonance american people have from the concept of illness is insane to me. American culture (I know it's not the only one) is so hung up on preserving youth, health, ability status, privilege, etc to the degree that they moralize uncontrollable (and sometimes harmless) biological occurrences to the point of actual delusion.

You can't have wrinkles, you can't have grey hair, you need to look 24, you need to fit in the prom dress you bought when you were 16. And the way this extends into healthism and ableism is detrimental to the collective conscious, I think. People act like you're a "bad person" if you get covid. They act like if you get sick, it's because you did something wrong. They say you should get into health and fitness not to make yourself happy or to have something to do, but to "prepare our bodies to age gracefully."

As someone who was chronically ill and disabled since childhood, I've always had a bit of a disconnect with this culture?? Like, having to LIVE with a facial difference for 15 years before "cosmetic reparation" was an option for me taught me that the way you look and how healthy you are really has nothing to do with you at all. But the main reason people aren't "unlearning" these issues is that americans refuse to accept that they coexist with disease at all.

Cancer treatment only happens in movies or to people you don't talk to anymore. Covid isn't real. Covid is over. Everyone with lung cancer got it because they smoked and they knew the risks. If you're on a chemo drug, you must have cancer. If you have cancer or a spinal condition, you MUST be dying. If you're in a wheelchair, you can walk if you really wanted to. Don't be visibly sick or disabled around me; it makes me uncomfortable. Don't talk about your health; it reminds me of my own mortality. Deny, dissociate, don't think about it.

When the reality is that new illnesses and outbreaks happen all the time. "Chemo" drug units and dialysis centers actually encompass a range of drugs and disease treatments. Some people have to get a year's supply of iron infused into their blood once a year. Does that scare you? If you've had cancer, you have cancer forever. You're in REMISSION because the root cause of the problem is still in your body. You're cancer free now, but maintenance diagnostics will be a permanent part of your life.

But we can't talk about that. Because the concept of BEING ill is so deeply dysphoric for the generally healthy, abled public. Getting sick is TRAUMATIZING to the point where if you can fully recover, you tend to not dig deep into your feelings about the situation ever again. And you're doing it to yourself, but it's also kind of being done to you by everyone. Honestly, just normalizing illness and coping with our close proximity to it would do wonders for society.

And that's why I get pissed off whenever Healthies find my post about Mushi-shi lmao

[sternenschaukler]

Aro-Allo Experiences Bingo (blank card):

Test yourself: How allo-aro are you?

Extra difficult AroAllo & Aromantic Combo Bingo:

Finally. The AroAllo Bingo is here, and damn, did I have a hard time completing this. I made a more general aromantic bingo a few months ago and was planning on making an aroallo bingo as well... But then, as I was making a list with specifically aroallo and not just more general aro stuff, I didn't find enough things to include at first... and then later I had way too many squares and couldn't decide what to exclude :/

So that's why there are two versions now: a "regular" bingo, and an extended 6×6 bingo where I included more general aro stuff that's already in the "aromantic bingo".  (hope this doesnt make it ridiculously difficult or something)

Needless to say, some of the squares left in the "regular" bingo are also still not exclusively allosexual, and of course none of them are *needed* to be alloaro (would be a pretty boring game otherwise lol), But I at least made sure I personally can't get a bingo anymore. So maybe that will make it a bit harder for other aroace people to get a bingo here as well. 

A bit about myself: I'm aroace. Although I admit that I'm somewhat of a rare flavour of ace because I'm aegosexual, and I even thought that I was aroallo for a while. I'm not though. I'm just horny and like writing kinky and aromantic smut, and thought that this fact excluded me from being ace. I didn't even consider the possibility for the longest time, although I kinda always knew that I was aromantic (even before I knew the label existed). Finding the aego microlabel really helped me embrace that I'm definitely 100% plain, regular ace, but I still enjoy lurking around in aroallo spaces sometimes. The memes are just really good and relatable, so this is also kinda a little thank you for that :)

PS: Btw, Of course It's allowed to download, share, and post this wherever you like. I consider this a meme more than anything, and it'd be weird to claim ownership over a meme IMO (just please don't spam)

(Also, the regular aro bingo is here: https://www.tumblr.com/sternenschaukler/763318993366941696/aromantic-experiences-bingo-blank-card-how )

[puchun]

Hello, sorry for the weird question but I loved to surf through your archive to find cute post to reblog but since the last couple of days I can't find the archive option on your blog from mobile anymore. Do you have any clue on why it's gone? T-T

Hello! seems like tumblr took my domain :( I don't know why . i always had that(and my blog is like 12yo) and now i have to pay 5 dollar if i want it back

:(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

[wastelandbabyblue]

as is tradition, i've updated my: "hozier using terms of endearment on his songs" list.

"baby" remains number one with 9 new additions. he uses "baby" a total of 74 times throughout his entire (released) discography

"darling" was his favourite term this time around with 17 new additions. it went from only 9 to 26 times he used the term in his songs

"love" got 11 new additions. 17 in total

and last but not least he used "honey" one time. so that's 46 times he says "honey" now

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 3 - Random Screenshot Edition

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 4] [Pt. 5] [Pt. 6]