#YOU’RE FUCKING FASCINATING

[noodle-shenaniganery]

There are people on Earth—and specifically, on Tumblr—living lives so intricate, complex, chaotic, and fascinating that, if written, their biography would probably become a best-seller.

But, like. So many of the folks I’ve seen that are like this seem so unaware?? Just. Casually saying things about themselves as if it’s not incredibly rare or interesting information.

How Do I Explain To You That You Are Cool.

[hangonsnoopy19]

Just rewatching episode 3 in the context of episode 5, and that early scene…

“You held Louis’s attention.”

“Louis thinks I’m boring….”

“Do you find me boring?”

“No.”

(A fascinating vampire meets an eager black hole)

Gif credit: @loumandiel

[saffitaffi]

“What if the evil tyrant who likes to kill puppies for fun actually just needed to fall in love with a sweet naive child who redeems them through the power of love and they were actually good the whole ti-“

What if they weren’t, though? What if their life twisted them to the point that they can only love through violence?

What if the narrative doomed them to ever play their role, a role that has already been chosen by forces higher than them?

What if the sweet, gentle character didn’t love them ‘despite their flaws’, or even at all?

Why should they? Especially if it’s a case of kidnapping. ESPECIALLY if they hurt them. Or their friends. Or take away their agency.

What if that strange contradiction of love and hatred in their heart tore them apart and gave them their justified end?

What if they CAN’T be fixed?

What if they don’t WANT to be fixed?

What if we stopped glamorizing abusive relationships and started actually exploring them?

[shadelorde]

like. if it’s the AI that’s making you quit nano and not when we talked about being groomed I genuinely don’t know what to fucking tell you except for what the fuck.

[sarellathesphinx]

Sometimes I take a step back and think about like the very concept of Reeve Tuesti and Cait Sith and I’m like. Nomura I know you said Cait and Barret were characters you desperately wanted to use. How the fuck did you come up with Cait and Reeve specifically. How

[taskmasterhistorian]

“I really do feel myself a despot, and I really do feel Alex is my…is my subservient.”

More of Greg getting lost in the world of Taskmaster. (X)

[moltengoldveins]

.

I blink, and the sticky-penny taste of blood burns the back of my tongue. My side is in stitches. One of my fingernails is cracked. That’s not the most painful thing about me right now but it’s just so annoying, and it catches on the leather of my axe hilt as I raise it to shield my eyes from the trailing light. White flashes against a graph paper sky, and I can’t see the city any more for the explosions. I can smell rot, and burning phosphorus, and wet dog. There’s a slight whistle in the air that means duck, now, Theseus, bend your knees to absorb shock- and a scream overhead as a skull lands close enough to rattle my head and pelt the back of my neck with gravel, right where the turtle shell of my helmet doesn’t cover. Over the ringing in my ears and the screaming I hear a steady tread, and I know it is my brother. His feet in those boots, his hand on that sword. His face in that mask. I raise my head. Chin up, jaw forward, shoulders loose, or the epaulettes will crease, Tom, stand up straight - and press my palm to the back of the other half of my soul. He shakes beneath it, tattered suit threads catching on fresh sparring calluses, the ones my brother gave a rare smile for. I scream at my brother. Obscenities, slurs- anything I can find to throw, accusations of broken promises. You said we would meet such and such time, I cry, you are early. As if he has done something surprising. As if I haven’t clawed, with stripped and twisted nailbeds, through the muck for the slightest hint of an advantage. As if the axe I hold isn’t stolen. As if I don’t know who taught me the art of deception. All is fair, I remember shrugging. All is fair. Tubbo’s shoulderblade shakes beneath my palm and I am a traitor, yes. But I could not in good conscience have been anything else.

-ometimes, you do the right thing and it hurts someone, kiddo. Doesn’t make it not the right thing. Doesn’t mean you didn’t hurt ‘em. Just means you gotta live with the-

My soul shakes in my hands as his home burns behind us. More than burns. It curdles. It twists and writhes in the unholy fire as the very earth beneath it is scraped away, and I want to weep. I am weeping, I realize, beneath the hoarse screaming - and so is my brother. There are tracks of clean white bone carved through the splattered mud across his mask. He weeps for what he is doing, for what I have done. Traitor, he calls me. And so are you, I reply. I’m a person, he cries. And so are we, I beg, we’re just like you. It isn’t true, I feel it in my gut as soon as the words leave my mouth. None of us have ever been people like my brother. I raise my hand to shield my soul as he thunders down on us and- 

there was a moment in the Pit, half an eternity ago. before our nation killed its dreamer. My brother had killed my soul, and he hadn’t even apologized. I’d been so angry. I’d wanted to kill him. I’d wanted to rip and tear and hit until he lost that damned look in his eye, and he’d shrugged his cape off like my hatred weighed less than the fur at his collar and I’d looked into his bare face and known he was a monster. Smug sonuvabitch, I’d thought, look at his eyes. He doesn’t even have the decency to have normal eyes. His fist connected with my face and Honestly, what was Will thinking, letting a fucking pig plan our war for us? He’d kill us all and he wouldn’t give a shit-

- he passes us by. Like a cannonball ricocheting past a fortification, he slams against my shield and is gone, barreling past us both and into the crater of my former home. To an untrained eye, it looks like he’s slipped and fallen down the uneven slope. 

My brother never slips. 

The stench of blood hangs heavy in the air, his footprint scraped through the mud by my knee like the trailing claw of some ponderous beast, and my brother never slips. He is no mortal man, no fallible creature, nothing weak enough to make a mistake like that. But he is a person. And people, unlike monsters, have the capacity for mercy.

“Tubbo,” My voice scrapes the raw skin of my throat. I grab my soul’s shoulder and pull him upright. “Tubbo, run.” 

[evansbby]

haven’t i always said that selena gomez always plays the victim??? ALWAYS???

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

Howdy, Syn! Hope you’re doing well. I’ve got a fun little ask for you:

If you’ve got some spare time on your hands, I was wondering if there was a little (non-spoilery) detail in—well, any of your stories, I’m obsessed with all of them—that you really enjoy but don’t think anyone’s picked up on yet. If there is, I’d love to hear any ramblings on it 👀

Have a good one!

This ask is ages old but I’m working on chipping away at my backlog little by little. Since I’m in a pez dispenser debris kick right now, let’s look at that.

I honest to God can’t remember if I’ve discussed this before, so sorry if it’s redundant, but one of the main points of pez dispenser debris is that the conflict is Man v. Self to the exclusion of all else.

Like, to an extent, there’s a secondary conflict of Man v. Society, but that 1) primarily (but not entirely) exists in Izuku’s past and 2) feeds into the Man v. Self conflict by being the primary driver behind both Izukus’ actions.

I decided to eschew any kind of genuine conflict between Izuku and the people in his life because I didn’t for a second want the narrative to get confused by considerations about whether it was safe to have told his loved ones about his past.

I very easily could have chosen to explore a plot line where the people around him feel betrayed or question him. At the very least, Mirio could have had a moment of “what the fuck, man, I’ve spent my whole career being looked down on as the world’s Quirkless hero and you didn’t think to fucking mention you grew up Quirkless?”

Close to the entire class has been vulnerable with him. Todoroki told him about being abused his entire childhood. He knows about Uraraka’s financial traumas. Iida nearly killed that guy the one time. Kirishima made him look at that suspicious bump in the unfortunate place.

These are kids who have spent the past three years in the trenches together. They’ve been in actual, life or death scenarios since the age of 14-15, and the only thing that they could count on was each other. And then here they are, at the very end of it all, and they find out that the guy they’ve been trusting with their back the whole time seemingly didn’t trust them enough to tell them a single detail of his life before they met him.

They could have been a little more conflicted about the revelation. At the very least, they could have questioned deeper how their friend went from 0 Quirks to a suspicious amount of Quirks when they spent their entire time at school with Guy Whose Entire Thing Is Transferring Quirks And Like. Trying to Murder Kids Who Are Specifically Them took personal issue with every single field trip they’ve ever had.

But every single outside POV is like “obviously we can trust him. It’s Midoriya. Anywho I will now be questioning my own character because he can’t be the problem so it must be me.”

If I explored plot points like that, it would have divided the conflict’s attention between Man v. Self and Man v. Man. The plot would have to devote time and focus to resolving Izuku’s issues with his loved ones and regaining their trust, and that would have detracted from a major theme of this fic, which is that this wasn’t about not trusting the people around him. He didn’t tell them because of an internalized issue.

Midoriya trusted his friends with his life. This wasn’t about fear of them rejecting him because he grew up Quirkless. The conflict is with himself.

I also eliminated sources of external conflict by having it all come out to the entire class all at once. I didn’t want to waste plot resources on what Izuku would naturally do in this situation, which is try to hide the little shit by all means necessary and quarantine his very existence. There would be too much time and energy wasted on slowly revealing the truth to select members of the class one by one.

And don’t get me wrong, that could have been an interesting plot—it just wasn’t the one I wanted to write.

This fic is about having to grapple with the part of yourself that is still hurt and angry about it. The part that cannot process the past to the point where you fear it endangers your future. You want your trauma to just go away and not exist anymore, because things are better so it means you shouldn’t have to be them anymore.

The older Izuku wants the younger one to be gone. He wants him to, at the very least, stop talking about what happened in the past and accept the future for how it is, because he doesn’t want to lose what he’s gained. But in doing so he mirrors the denial of self his younger counterpart is being far more explicit about.

Because both versions of Izuku are refusing to believe the other is them.

Young Izuku is doing it in a very literal way. That guy ain’t me. He killed and replaced me. There is absolutely no way I am him. He refuses to accept that there is any version of him who could become like his older self.

But the older Izuku is doing the same thing, just in a less literal sense. Hes almost acting like his old self is somehow legitimately a distinct entity. He slips and says it to Aizawa—stop looking at me like I’m him. The older Izuku wants to just bulldoze over his past and pretend like it doesn’t belong to him, but it just doesn’t work that way.

That’s the conflict I wanted to capture for this fic. Just this absolute refusal to reconcile your past and your future because to do so would require processing the trauma you’ve been through. And so I cauterized off all other sources of conflict, because they’d just detract from what needed to be center stage.

[lesbians4armand]

tommy is so girlcoded. female hysteria as a man. eldest daughter trauma. weird psychosexual relationship with father/father figures and parallels. manipulated for his appearance and sexuality. its a thought

[iwaasfairy]

please don’t send me asks about anyone in high school in sexual situations (or younger istfg)

I’m not ever gonna write high schoolers or high school gojo or nothin. thank you

[genshinlesbian]

just finished the Focalors execution cutscene and we’re about to face the whale. Had to pause and write down my thoughts because the religious symbolism here has me in a CHOKEHOLD

Fucking primordial water in the Oceanid’s veins to turn them human is what turns them back again? This is my body and blood?? Remember you were water and to water you shall return????

Moreover there is literally a character with the title “The Father.” Navia’s grief for her father is a constant theme. Do you see the vision here.

Hydro elements consists of three central figures, two intrinsically linked as the same person, split into humanity and divinity. The first created the second who suffers under the burden of holding faith in the first. One sacrifices herself with a device that suspiciously resembles a crucifix (or guillotine. Sigh. French people) to return power to the third.

Then he VERBATIM fucking goes and FORGIVES THE NATION’S ORIGINAL SIN?? Now he’s about to go face the LEVIATHAN???

brb I guess I’m adding “allegory for Christ” to the reasons I love Neuvillette so much….

Edit: The flood came. As in The fucking Flood From Noah’s Ark. walking on water casting the nets etc. the disciples were fishermen. FUCKING. PURIFICATION BY THE WATER?? BAPTISM, HELLO PEOPLE????

[spinjitsuburst]

I’ve been reading a very very very dark Skybound Fic all night and I feel slightly ill but I’m so so obsessed with literally every “how Jay’s lightning works” headcanon

[highfiveheroes]

Your tags really get at something I've been saying a lot about KLCK and specifically the pure maddening Lovecraftian horror of realizing you're in a narrative but not understanding it, like at least in the literal Neverafter sense you can grasp that's how things work but to recognize those narrative walls without comprehending them it's like the universe is gaslighting you.

YES exactly like. i think it must be more common than i think because when i was a kid i thought something was wrong with me for expecting everything to run like a tv show. like there are supposed to be plots and threads and characters you root for that don’t fundamentally change. and i think kipperlilly is aware of that, and at some point she became aware she was someone nobody in the audience even noticed, and instead of deciding to make a spin off she went straight for the throat (whoops) and decided to take the spotlight by becoming the antagonist, because fuck her personal life if she gets to be top bill on the show right?

except that’s not how life works, because there’s no author and no plot and no viewers, and sometimes you’re just average enough to not get accolades and other people are extraordinary enough to become literal heroes and gods, and it’s hard to compare yourself to that when you know there’s nothing you can do to change it. you can’t make an au for yourself and give yourself better backstory and better advantages. sometimes you’re just a fucking person and when you want the glory bad enough it will drive you fucking insane.

[bilboyagathechickenfootedhobbit]

I swear I’m not a mean mom, my kid really and truly asked me for a multiplication math workbook for Christmas because he’s bored doing adding and subtracting with his class. I got him cool gifts, too, I swear.

[fyllophobia]

you art is so beautiful omg

just been coming back from a hiatus/inactivity so i’m glad people have been enjoying it so much, ffxiv has been a joy and creative font for me these past few months after feeling a bit bummed by art. thankfully i feel completely refreshed recently and comments like these make things sweeter, thank you for appreciating!!