#I don't know if I love this one

[oreoambitions]

Kara hangs some four feet off the floor, palms sweating, legs trembling, and tries not to close her eyes. Four feet might as well be forty. Might as well be four hundred. The move is a drop knee and a reach up with the left hand and she can do it, has done it before, has to do it again because otherwise fear wins this one and since when does Kara Danvers let fear win? She turns the knee in but the left hand has a mind of its own and it wont let go. If she lets go she’s going to fall. And if she falls…

She pushes off the wall and drops the four feet with ease, lets her knees fold, indulges in an unnecessary backwards flop onto the mat. She stays there for a long moment, eyes on thick wooden rafters high above, chest heaving with what feels even to her to be unnecessary drama. The absurdity of it all would make her laugh if the frustration of it all weren’t burning hot through her veins. It’s a V0. It’s a climb for beginners. For Kara, it should have been nothing.

But today it’s something. Alex would say, we are taking each day for what it is. We are meeting each day as we are. We are refusing to swell in the past. Easy for Alex to say.

Kara rolls to her feet to take up a perch on the cubbies just off the mat. A couple of minutes and some water and she can try again. It’s about the strength of her will, isn’t it? The body is strong. Not as strong as it once was, but strong enough. It’s the mind that falters. A boy no older than 14 scrambles up a route of tiny chips, his weight all on his fingertips and toes, defying gravity 16 feet straight up with no hesitation, and Kara looks away. There is nothing, and everything, to fear. And isn’t that what she’s come here for? To look fear in the eye and win? Because if she wins…

“Injury?”

Kara startles so hard she almost knocks her own water bottle out of her hand. The woman who settles down onto the cubbies next to her suppresses a smirk. Kara tries without success to suppress her own heartbeat. Green eyes meet hers for half a second and flicker away. Suddenly Kara finds herself fascinated by the loose thread on the seam of her climbing pants.

“Sorry,” the newcomer says. “I know it’s hell of an assumption. I just thought- I’ve seen you around a couple of times.”

Kara has seen her around too, because, and she means this in the gayest possible way, shoulders. The woman beside her is, according to all available evidence these past few weeks, allergic to shirts. Addicted to sports bras. And she’s clearly never skipped a training day in her life, because shoulders. Has Kara mentioned the shoulders? And let’s not talk about the abs. Kara cannot, in fact, look away from the abs. She makes a noble effort to redirect her attention to the lose thread.

“I just joined a couple weeks ago,” she chokes out.

“Lena.”

Kara is so busy looking the other way she hesitates far too long before taking the hand offered to her. Who shakes hands these days anyway? But she takes it, and then she hesitates another moment too long before letting go, because warm.

“Kara,” she replies.

“You don’t move like a new climber, Kara,” Lena comments. “But I never see you on anything steeper than a V1, so I’ve been wondering. And it’s super rude of me,” she concedes, nudging Kara with another smirk, “ but I thought I’d just ask because, as it happens, I am also working some lower grade problems right now because I tore my ACL a little while back.”

“You tore your-”

Lena waves her off. “Happens. So I was wondering if-”

“Happens?” God. Humans are fragile. And reckless. And well muscled. And warm. God. Focus.

“So I was wondering if you wanted to be my injury recovery accountability buddy. You know? We can hype each other up, remind one another that there’s no shame in easier climbs. Maybe we can meet up and do a couple workouts off the wall, some prehab, some core. That sort of thing.”

What Kara should say is, “Sure, but if we’re doing that, I’m definitely gonna need your number.” Maybe not. Maybe something similar to that but smoother and paired with some kind of winning smile. Kara has never before this moment worried about whether her smile is winning or not. What she says instead is, “I’m actually not injured. It’s- I can’t get out of my head.”

Lena nods slowly, her gaze joining Kara’s on the loose thread now twisted tight between Kara’s fingers.

“So…” she says after a long pause, “Was it a fall?”

For an instant, Kara is there again. And it is four hundred feet rather than four, and the concrete rushing up so fast below her, and the taste of ash in her mouth, the smell of iron and blood choking and choking her as the wind whips past, and then the crack-

“Yeah,” she says. Her fingers flex. “And now I can’t- And now I’m scared of heights. And I’m-” Human, she almost says. “And I’ve lost a lot of strength.”

Lena reaches out to tug the loose thread from between her fingers. “Just because it’s in your head,” she says, “Doesn’t mean it isn’t an injury.”

That’s the kind of thing Alex would say. That’s the kind of thing that would make Kara want to roll her eyes on a good day - would, on a bad day, make her want to scream and rage against the unfairness of a solar flare that might just never end, against the tedium of building strength and endurance one slow painful day at a time, against the weeks piling one on the other, the waiting, the fear, the courage that never comes back to her no matter how hard she tries.

Coming from Lena, it isn’t so bad. Lena’s hand lingers on Kara’s a moment too long, and Kara decides the line. “Guess I’ll need your number if we’re gonna be accountability buddies.” She tries the winning smile too, risks a glance back up into those too green eyes, just for good measure.

Lena laughs. Her hand is still on Kara’s, that loose thread between her fingers. “Guess so,” she replies.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Expertise can't help you here.

[christadeguchi]

i'll let phie-san say it:

[inkskinned]

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

[jerich0two]

Surprise! It's not Hazbin Hotel, shock horror... but happy pride month! I like this Mordecai headcanon (edit: I've since been told that it's canon!)

[magnusbae]

To illustrate this post by @mayahawkse I would like to visualize to you the difference:

A post in 2023:

A post in 2014:

A zoom out of the same post:

This is what a community looks like.

See how in 2023 almost all of the reblogs come from the OP, from their few hours/days in the tag search. Meanwhile in 2014 the % of reblogs from OP is insignificant, because most of the reblogs come from the reblogs within the fandom, within the micro-communities formed there. You didn't need to rely on tags, or search, or being featured. Because the community took care of you, made sure to pass the work between themselves and onto their blog and exposed their followers to it. It kept works alive for years.

It's not JUST the reblog/like ratio that causing this issue, it's the type of interaction people have. They're content with scrolling and liking the search engine, instead of actually having a reblogging relationship with other blogs in their community.

Anyways, if you want to see more content you like, the only true way to make it happen is to reblog it. Likes do not forward content in no way but making OP feel nice. Reblogs on the other hand make content eternal. They make it relevant, they make it exist outside of a fickle tumblr search that hardly works on the best of days.

If you want more of something, reblog it.

[time-to-write-and-suffer]

I love how on Tumblr, "media literacy" has become "Um, just because someone writes about this doesn't mean they're endorsing this. I hate all these media puritans ruining everything."

I'm sad to inform you that knowing when and whether an author is endorsing something, implying something, saying something, is also part of media literacy. Knowing when they are doing this and when they're not is part of media literacy. Assuming that no author has ever endorsed a bad thing is how you fall for proper gander. It's not media literacy to always assume that nobody ever has agreed with the morally reprehensible ideas in their work.

Sometimes, authors are endorsing something, and you need to be aware when that happens, and you also need to be aware when you're doing it as an author. All media isn't horny dubcon fanfic where you and the author know it's problematic IRL but you get off to it in the privacy of your brain. Sometimes very smart people can convince you of something that'll hurt others in the real world. Sometimes very dumb people will romanticize something without realizing they're doing it and you'll be caught up in it without realizing that you are.

Being aware of this is also media literacy. Being aware of the narrative tools used to affect your thinking is media literacy. Deciding on your own whether you agree with an author or not is media literacy. Enjoying characters doing bad things and allowing authors to create flawed or cruel characters for the sake of a story is perfectly fine, but it is not the same as being media literate. Being smug about how you never think an author has bad intentions tells me you're edgy, not that you're media literate. You can't use one rule to apply to all media. That's not how media literacy works. Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! Aheem heem. Anyway.

[garbean]

I love dunmeshi for the like.. built in horror of consumption. Like they eat to survive, they eat to honor their prey, they eat to possibly mourn someone. Laios eats monsters because he wants to learn more about the things he loves, Senshi eats monsters to feel included in the ecosystem because he didn't fit in with the outside and with most creatures in general, Chilchuck DOESN'T eat as much as he could because eating too much could kill all the party members, Marcille eats monsters and hates it but she still does it because she'll die before she could save Falin.

[akantorrr]

[missmisnomer]

it's always a good day to wake up and choose violence

More Rise silliness [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ]

[glorious-spoon]

i know we all laugh (mostly fondly) about the paper-thin plots in porn that only exist to make the sex happen, but i was reading some old stargate fic over the weekend, and i really think we're sleeping on the paper-thin hurt/comfort plot that only exists to force the characters to FEEL THINGS.

like, is this scenario realistic? no. does it make any rational sense? no. does it provide a built-in excuse for a character to collapse, bloody and disoriented, into the arms of his beloved/friend/partner? obviously, that's the whole point of this exercise.

i love it. it's my favorite thing in the world.

[seancefemme]

yeah well you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The math just adds up!

[lazylittledragon]

and what if they got married. what then

[starry-bi-sky]

don't you want to be a cult leader? - danyal al ghul au

this is mostly a joke post but i thought it was funny and had to share so--

his first mistake was, obviously, inheriting his father's inability to see an injustice and stand still. -- actually, danyal's first mistake was his lair being so big. a mountainous island with a large temple in the center resembling his old home in Nanda Parbat? With sprawling foliage and rivers and streams and waterfalls galore? What was he going to do with all that space? Let it go to waste? He had plants there! Native trees of the ghost zone growing from the soil! He couldn't let it all be left unchecked!

So naturally after helping a fellow teenage assassin ghost -- who he later learns is named Akihiko, -- from Walker of all people, he sent them over to hang low at his lair until it was safe enough for them to wander around the Zone. Walker couldn't get through Danyal's astrofield if his life depended on it, and trust him -- he's tried. Danny was clearing out debris from his stupid transport vans for weeks.

Honestly it wasn't so bad, he and Aki really quickly became fast friends and Danny loves having a sparring partner close to his level again -- he hasn't had this much fun fighting since he left the League. Aki was very dedicated and levelheaded, the both of them clicked really well because of it.

Nonono, the real trouble began after Danyal met some long-passed League members and allowed them to come join his island as well. Apparently they had made a few enemies of the zone, and maybe Danyal still felt some loyalty to the League. He couldn't just let them be left to rot. Their zealotry could be overlooked so long as they kept it contained and helped him take care of his island.

And it.. snowballs from there? He meets a teen squire aptly calling himself Ambroise -- whether that was his living name or not is yet to be seen -- who died during feudal france, who is just about as dramatic and passionate as every french stereotype makes them out to be. He calls Danyal "my moon and great muse" -- which is both flattering and little uncomfortable, but Danyal's grown up in the League as the Grandson of the Demon Head, he is used to mild worship. he passes it off as nothing more, nothing less. -- and while his energy is overwhelming on the worst of days, he helps Danny draw out of his shell more in ways that Sam and Tucker still struggle with.

Him and Aki butt heads a lot, but the two seem to hold the other in at least some positive regard, so Danny doesn't worry too much about them fighting while he's gone. It only becomes a mild issue when Aki also begins calling Danny "my moon". It's a little sweet, so Danyal brushes it off.

Then he takes in a troupe of ghosts some time after he defeats Pariah Dark and they begin calling him "great one" just as the yetis do in the far frozen. This is where he meets the twins -- a pair of sibling ghosts who call themselves Trixie and Missy (short for Trick and Mislead) -- who aren't quite as passionate as Ambroise but more energetic than Aki. Eventually they also start calling Danyal "my moon" and attach themselves to his hip, even within the living. They like to hide in his shadow and cause trouble for the rest of the students. He makes sure they don't hurt anyone.

He's pretty sure Aki is jealous, same with Ambroise, but he can't be too certain other than the fact that they become much more lingering (re: clingy) whenever he visits the island.. Something he's trying to do much more often these days due to the increasing amount of people living there now. Since when did he become so popular?

Then there's Pēnelópeia from the Greater Athens, who ran away from home and joined his Island after he ran into her while she was being chased by Skulker -- and he's pretty sure the reason was because of her chimeric appearance. Her strange eyes and mismatched wings and lion's tail and talons. She assimilates into his friend group very easily, she gets along well with Ambroise and Trixie and Danny usually finds the three of them climbing the trees to pluck the most fruit from the top. They can fly and he knows it, but they prefer to climb.

Then finally there's silent poet Akkara who comes from ancient mesopotamia, who gets along most with Aki -- which is no surprise there considering their similar personality dispositions. he watches Aki and Danyal fight each other and leaves comments on this or that that he notices. He writes Danyal poems on clay tablets and leaves them by his room.

They're one big mismatched group of outcasts, and Danny's got the other ghosts on his island to tend to, because they're living on his island and he wants to be hospitable even if he struggles with that. But he spends the most of his time with them.

Sam and Tucker are making fun of him. Tucker jokingly tells him 'careful Danny, at this rate you're gonna start a cult'. Danny really wishes he had taken that joke more seriously.

He just. keeps. collecting people. Wayward souls lost in the zone, looking for shelter or refuge from something or other -- whether that be another hostile ghost, or a past afterlife, or just a purpose. Danyal finds them, he takes them in, offers them a place on his island until they are ready to leave. Many seldom do. He's not complaining -- he has the space, and it feels like it's only ever growing.

His close friends, his "inner circle" as he's heard the others call them, keep insistently calling him "my moon". He starts calling them his stars, because then it only feels fair. They're his stars, this is his constellation. It becomes a thing; little star halos begin forming behind their heads, picking them out from the rest. He loves them so much, it's hard to place. Sam and Tucker are also his stars, but they reside in the living realm, they're his tie to Life. Meanwhile, his friends here know what it's like to be dead, and sometimes its nice to relate.

Those living on his island keep calling him "Great One" and he's beginning to notice zealotry in their care for his island. He really, deeply appreciates it. His close friends gain nicknames -- as his stars, it's only natural for him to pick them out from the cluster in the skies. Akihiko, his Sirius and bright star. Trix and Missy, Castor and Pollux, the twins and troublemakers. Ambroise, his zealous Antares and close friend. Penelopeia, chimeric and loyal Vega. And Akkara, his Arcturus and strength.

It's ridiculous how long it takes for him to notice; he is, of course, a deadly trained assassin. He is meant to be observant -- and normally he is! But somehow this becomes a blind spot. One that becomes too big to be dealt with by the time he realizes it.

He should've noticed when Aki, his Sirius, stood beside him one day while Danyal looked over his island and saw the sprawling spirits carrying on about their afterlife and bowing to him as they saw him, and said: "I looked down into the depths when I met you; I couldn't measure it." They aren't one for flowing prose, it took him so off guard he was silent for over a minute before he finally spoke.

Danyal should've recognized devotion for what it is, and yet he didn't. He should've recognized it when Antares began spouting praises about him, crowing about his radiance and resplendence to the heavens. He just brushed it off as Ambroise being Ambroise. He should've recognized it when Trix and Missy nearly broke Dash's leg after he knocked Danyal's books out of his hands, he excused it as them being protective. Of them coming from times where such violence may have been customary -- after all, that's what he used to be like. What he was still like, sometimes, when his emotions nearly got the better of him.

He should've noticed it when the people living on his island followed his word like gospel, looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. When his friends gifted him a shawl with the moon phases delicately embroidered into it, with silver, shimmering thread and moving stars lovingly stitched into it. Their constellations seen clear as day in the dark fabric. When he found small shrines dedicated to him -- but they lacked any image of him beyond stones carved to look like moons, so he ignored it. When the religious imagery began popping up.

He really, really should've noticed it when a bunch of cultists accidentally summoned Antares, and Antares had turned to him when he arrived and called them heretics. But he was so centered on the fact that they had kidnapped one of his stars, that he hadn't paid much attention to what Ambroise had said.

Sages say that faith is blind, they should also say faith in you is even blinder.

It really only hits him one afternoon while he's sitting in Sam's room studying with Tucker, Missy and Trixie lounging at his feet, Aki sat on his right, Penelopeia braiding his hair, Ambroise draped against him, and Akkara lurking over him. Its one of the rare few times they're all in one room together.

It hits him like a bolt of lightning. He looks up from his textbook. "Oh Ancients," he says in no amounting shock. Everyone looks up to him.

"I've become my grandfather."

[kaahmbem]

legend has it that the young witch circe and the once beautiful nymph scylla shared a complicated past...