#also i left it vague on purpose

[kiigan]

starter call @moonsworn

ㅤEnding up the day listening to a feud between overworked employees and an entitled client surely had not been in Itachi's to-do list, yet here he was nonetheless. Waiting in line as he'd been for the past almost ten minutes, waiting for that heavenly bliss that would be a cup filled to the brim with steamy black coffee... and, in the meantime, trying to not wither inside as the spectacle unfolded. Long story short, said client was outraged to have found pieces of pineapple in their pizza slice - which might even have been a valid argument, if it wasn't for the fact that the ingredient list was literally hanging from the wall and clearly detailed everything that went in every snack option. Meaning, the awful person ordered without paying attention and was now making it everybody else's problem rather than to admit to their fault, because obviously that was what responsible adults did.

ㅤOnce the matter was finally settled, basically through the establishment's manager escorting the idiot outside and asking them to never return again, Itachi didn't bother stopping the sigh that escaped past his lips. Having to wait wasn't even the issue, especially given that he was a rather patient person; rather, currently feeling so terribly sorry for the poor cashier in particular. After receiving his own order, he made sure to drop a very generous tip in the jar, to at least try to make the person's day a little bit less horrible. And, even then, as he grabbed the cup and was making his way to a table, he couldn't help but conclude the previous argument in his head, half to himself and half out loud.

«Imagine feeling offended over fruit in your pizza. What are you going to do about the tomatoes, then?»

[gaylactic-fire]

I feel like the only difference between the FNAF timeline and the LoZ timeline is that FNAF fans have gaslit themselves into thinking Scott Cawthon is some genius cryptic storyteller. Zelda fans I think at least have the self-awareness to understand the timeline / cohesiveness is an afterthought to Nintendo

[necrotic-nephilim]

"I think you need a little something to remind you of who you belong to." - JayTim

send a quote and a ship and I'll write a short fic!

god this one is so good. this idea just. sat in my brain goo for days until i had the time to write it. this takes place like. right around Search For A Hero and before Battle for the Cowl, i would say, with dead Bruce and all, but before Red Robin. very fucked up one-sided feelings bc Jason is Jason and i love him. it's like 3.6k words and my partner edited it for me so. enjoy <3

It took Tim longer than it should’ve to notice the change.

With Bruce gone, Gotham was in upheaval.

No matter how much Tim did, there was always more. A new villain to fight, a new gang to take down, a new murder to solve. Gotham knew that the Batman was gone, for good this time.

Which meant they knew someone, something, could kill Batman.

That made Tim the fresh meat to go after. If the Batman could be killed, it shouldn’t be any harder to take down his Robin. Tim knew that every villain would want a piece of him and he had to prove himself. And for a while, he did. Tim was personally targeted by rogues, ready to be the Joker to his Robin.

Then it changed.

No one was pulling their punches, necessarily. But there was a change. Gangs that once had no problem facing Tim down were running in the opposite direction. Rogues gave up too easily, with an amount of fear in their eyes that didn’t quite match Tim’s reputation.

He should’ve noticed it sooner.

Tim knew something was wrong, at least. But he’d been so slow to notice it; now he was scrambling for answers. He’d interrogated half a dozen thugs and none of them gave him anything. Tim used every trick Bruce had taught him and still. He had nothing. It was just confirmation that they were hiding something. He was missing something, and he had nothing to show for it.

It reminded Tim of how the tide receded right before a tsunami- a quiet, deadly calm rolled over Gotham.

Someone was pulling strings. Someone was going right over Tim’s head, probably planning a big attack to sweep Tim undertow to drown in the chaos. And Tim didn’t have a single lead.

Waiting was always the worst part.

And still, the fires in Gotham burned. Whatever was going on kept getting pushed to the back burner so Tim could stop everything from human trafficking rings to street muggings. He knew he was stretched too thin, too exhausted to hold himself up.

It was a matter of time before Tim got pulled into a merciless riptide.

He just didn’t expect it to be in some grimy alley, losing a fight to a second-rate mob that jumped him.

Tim should’ve gone back to the Batcave when his shoulder got dislocated an hour ago by Harley Quinn instead of just setting it and carrying on.

He should’ve called for backup an hour before that, when he had to face all the Gotham Sirens on his own, leading to the chase with Harley in the first place.

And he definitely should’ve stayed home from patrol altogether, with ribs that were still cracked from a run-in with Solomon Grundy less than a week ago.

But Tim didn’t do any of that. Because if he was going to carry on any part of Bruce’s legacy, it was this: fighting until his body gave out under him.

Tim just hoped if this mob killed him, they wouldn’t dump his body somewhere embarrassing.

Though it was starting to look less like if, and more like when. Tim didn’t like to be pessimistic in a fight. There was always something more to do, one final trick to pull out of his arsenal. Just like Bruce taught him.

This time, though. Tim wasn’t so sure about that.

There was blood in his mouth. Blood in his eyes. He could barely stand, let alone hold his bo staff. It took every ounce of worn-out effort to block the endless blows raining down on his battered body, let alone try to punch back.

Tim always figured he’d meet a violent end.

He wasn’t sure where his comm link had skittered off to. It got knocked out of his ear under a particularly vicious blow to the head, cutting Tim off from any hope of backup. He was in this one alone.

Someone kneed Tim in his already brutalized ribs. He doubled over and groaned, falling to the ground.

He needed to get back up.

Tim’s arms were too shaky to support his weight. He just collapsed again. A steel-toed boot was raised above his head, ready to come down. Tim just closed his eyes and covered his head as best he could with his hands. Better broken fingers than a broken skull.

The boot never connected.

Instead, Tim heard gunfire.

He knew some of the men had guns, but this was a different kind of gunfire. The automatic kind, coming from a different direction. All Tim could do was watch with wide eyes as his attackers started to drop like flies tinged with red.

The ones who managed to survive the first volley of bullets were scrambling around, yelling at each other in a foreign language. Russian, maybe? It was hard for Tim to tell with his head swimming from blood loss, eardrums pulsing to the infernal beat.

From the darkness, a figure jumped down, landing in front of Tim, holding an automatic rifle over their shoulder. Tim blinked hard, trying to make out who it was.

“I only gave you miserable fucks one rule,” a cold voice growled. “Who wants to remind me what it was?”

Damnit. Tim knew that voice.

He was beyond screwed.

All the men froze. Stuttered apologies and pleas came out of half of them, messy and incoherent. They all sounded positively terrified, cowering in front of the figure.

“We didn’t know it was-”

“-just wanted to scare him-”

“He came to our territory first-”

“-but we weren’t going to kill him-”

Jason Todd fired a few shots into the sky, silencing all of them. Tim swallowed a mouthful of blood, his own heart reverberating against copper-stained teeth.

“I asked what the rule was,” Jason repeated slowly. He cracked his neck and pulled a knife off his belt, flipping it around for show.

One of the men was brave enough to step forward. “No one’s allowed to touch Robin. Sir.”

Tim’s breath caught in his throat.

What the hell?

Jason nodded slowly. “And last I checked-” he made a show of turning back to look at Tim. Under the helmet, Tim couldn’t begin to guess Jason’s intentions. “-there’s only one kid with a big R on his chest fighting with a bo staff. I was being pretty generous with all of you. Protection from the cops, from other gangs. All for one fucking rule.”

“Why are you protecting him, anyway? Vigilante freaks cause us nothing but problems-”

The man’s yelling was abruptly cut off by the bang of Jason’s gun and his brains splattering across the alleyway. A smear of pink landed on his bo staff; there was no coming back from that one.

“I guess I should’ve had two rules. No touching Robin and no asking questions,” Jason hummed lazily, as if he hadn’t just taken a man’s life. He shrugged. “I’ll add it to the tab.” He reloaded the gun.

Tim grabbed Jason’s ankle. “Don’t…” he coughed up a mouthful of blood, “don’t kill them.” It was pathetic. He could hold his own in a fight against Jason. He had before. But now, Tim couldn’t even stand and was left with barely enough strength to even grab Jason.

Like shooing away an insolent child, Jason pulled his leg free and clicked his tongue at Tim. “I’ll get to you in a second. Wait your turn.”

Then, he let loose. And there was nothing Tim could do but watch in horror.

Jason tore through every single one of the men like paper. their bodies dropped one by one because instead of the gun, Jason jumped in with his knife. For the fun of the fight, Tim guessed. Because it definitely sounded like Jason was enjoying himself, flipping through the crowd and throwing out a vile quip now and then.

In seconds, it was over. A pile of bodies with Jason as the indisputable victor, wiping his bloody knife off on his jacket. He walked over to Tim, perfectly casual.

Maybe he was saving Tim for the finale, to be killed by Jason’s own hand around his neck. That was the only reason Tim could think of for Jason being the reason rogues had pulled back so much over the past few weeks. Jason wanted Tim’s blood for himself, so he could make some kind of statement out of killing Robin. Or something like that, anyway.

“Up we go,” Jason said with a grunt, leaning over to Tim up like a sack of potatoes. Tim was hauled up with Jason’s hands under his armpits, then tossed over Jason’s shoulder, with an arm supporting him around his thighs.

At least the dead bodies couldn’t judge Tim for how utterly embarrassing he must’ve looked.

“Put me down,” Tim tried to say, but the words were so slurred they sounded like one long syllable. His head was spinning. Tim had heard of double vision, but never triple. Was that a bad sign??

“It’s pronounced thank you, actually,” Jason said, walking off with Tim in tow. Each step made all of Tim’s injuries feel far worse and he hissed, uselessly trying to claw at Jason’s back, the material of his gloves squeaking pathetically. “As in, thank you for saving my sorry ass, Red Hood.”

“Fuck you,” Tim sputtered. He was getting blood all over Jason’s jacket and it was the only thing he could see, as his vision got more tunneled by the second. “Where are you…” everything hurt and consciousness was slipping away from Tim.

Jason said something. Tim didn’t hear it. His hands went slack, followed by the rest of Tim’s body.

His last coherent thought was a long string of expletives cursing Jason Todd out.

It took over a liter of blood to stabilize Tim. Stitches on his arm, stomach, and forehead littered his battered body. He was still unconscious on Jason’s coffee table, with a makeshift IV drip giving him fluids, stripped down to his boxers.

Jason was torn between being supremely pissed off at Tim getting jumped and being sickly fascinated by the sight of Tim being bruised and bloody. Perfectly laid out for Jason.

Maybe he should’ve thanked that Russian mob before killing them.

Jason knew it was just a matter of time before that mob caused him issues. They were no real loss to his empire. He was lucky he caught them in the act before it was too late.

One simple rule and some idiots went out of their way to ignore it.

Tim was Jason’s meat and no one else’s. Jason hadn’t been ready to mark his territory yet. This sped up his plan. There were so many steps Jason had to skip to save Tim. He had been waiting for Gotham’s trust in Robin to grow secure and rooted down, putting Tim on top of the world. Then a new Batman would step up, probably Dick. It’d leave Tim aimless and vulnerable, quickly forgotten by his city the moment they had someone in a Batsuit to worship instead.

And that was supposed to be the moment Jason swooped in and claimed Tim. Protecting him from all the big mean supervillains who were salivating for Tim’s blood that Jason had been holding back for so long.

He would be Tim’s fucking savior.

But a no-name Russian mob had to go and screw it up. Leaving Jason sitting on his couch, feet propped up on the same coffee table Tim was sprawled out on. Every now and then Jason nudged Tim with his boot, just to check how out cold he really was.

The latest boot nudge to Tim’s hip actually got him to stir.

Tim groaned, trying to move. His attempt to sit up failed pretty spectacularly. His arm gave out and he slipped, head loudly bonking on the coffee table. With the concussion he definitely had, that had to hurt like hell. Jason smirked, lighting a cigarette. Another pretty groan out of Tim’s mouth before he managed to open his eyes, blinking hard to adjust to his surroundings.

Jason didn’t rush him. He just watched as Tim looked around the safehouse, craning his neck. He ran his hands over his body, feeling the neat bandage work. Finally, his eyes settled on Jason, widening slightly. Jason could see the wheels turning in Tim’s bright mind, remembering what had happened.

Tim opened and closed his mouth a few times, presumably trying to decide where to start. Jason took a long drag and blew the smoke in the direction of Tim’s face, making him cough.

“Why?” Tim finally said. His voice sounded a little raw.

Jason arched an eyebrow, playing innocent. “Why what?”

“You know what,” Tim snapped. He gestured to himself. “Why are you… doing this? Telling everyone I’m off limits and…”

“And saving you?” Jason finished, earning him a lethal glare. About as lethal as a kicked puppy could be, anyway. Jason snorted and shrugged. “Because I can.” No point in sharing a plan that was all fucked up.

“I don’t need your help,” Tim said through gritted teeth. He tried to sit up, slower this time. He still didn’t manage it.

Jason stared at him. “I’m sorry, would you have preferred Nightwing scrap what was left of you off the pavement after those asshats were through with you?”

“I can fight my own battles.”

“And lose them too. Clearly.”

An angry noise came out of Tim’s throat. “Did you just want to save me for yourself, or something?” Tim prodded, fist clenched at his side.

“Probably not in the way you’re thinking,” Jason said. He flicked ashes off of his cigarette onto Tim’s skin, pulling a hiss out of him.

Tim frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Figure it out yourself. Isn’t detective work your whole thing?” Jason made a show of adjusting how he was sitting on the couch as if he was getting comfortable. He moved to prop his feet up on Tim’s leg, one of the few places on his body that wasn’t covered in injuries. Using him like a little footstool.

Oh, that really pissed Tim off. Jason grinned wickedly, watching Tim try and fail to pull himself free. There wasn’t much weight on his leg, but he was still too weak to get his body to cooperate, leaving him to sluggishly struggle.

Tim’s face twisted. “If you think you could convince me to be your sidekick, you’re out of your mind.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a lap dog, actually,” Jason tilted his head back. “Much more submissive and obedient, that way.” He didn’t hide the obvious innuendo in his voice.

Tim recoiled. “Very funny.”

“I’m dead serious,” Jason shot back. “I don’t kill for just anyone.” Contrary to popular belief, murder was purposeful, with Jason. If he killed a lot of people, it was for a specific reason. It was a careful image of the unstable madman to make people fear him. But in reality, it was all planned. Every single body in the grave was carefully counted.

“You’re psychotic if you think I’d ever… submit to you.” Tim’s mouth twisted just having to say the words, utterly disgusted by them.

Jason scoffed. “I think there’s a misunderstanding here, Drake.” He pulled a butterfly knife out of his pocket, flipping it open. “You already belong to me. Every criminal in Gotham knows you’re mine. You’re alive because I’ve allowed it. You’re protected because I called for it. It’s a done fucking deal.” He took his feet off of Tim’s leg and brought them to the floor so he could lean up close to Tim’s pale face. “Understood?”

Like a perfectly rational person, Tim tried to headbutt Jason.

Jason pulled back, more for Tim’s sake than his own. He caught Tim’s head with his hand, forcing it back down on the table.

“I didn’t ask for your protection,” Tim hissed, breathing hard. “You can go to hell, Jason. I can handle this city just fine on my own.”

“I don’t really care if you can or not.” Jason pressed the knife to Tim’s throat, a dangerous warning against any more stupid attempts to fight Jason. “You can be Robin all you want. You can crawl back home to that disgusting cave and play house with all the other bats. I don’t give a shit how you live your life, Drake. So long as you know you’re mine at the end of the day-” he shrugged- “we can take all this slow. I was planning to anyway.”

“You were planning to…” Tim echoed, turning the words over as it sank in for him. “You were planning… what? To make me fall in love with you or something?”

Jason gave another nonchalant shrug. “If that’s how you want to dumb it down, sure.” The plan was far more sophisticated than that. Jason didn’t just need Tim to love him. He needed Tim to crave Jason, need him down to the marrow, and dedicate himself wholly to Jason. Be by Jason’s side as a strategist and partner.

They would get there eventually. Soon Tim would see and understand things from Jason’s perspective. His approach just needed to be a little more head-on.

More fun for Jason in the long run.

It was hard to read Tim’s expression. Maybe Jason was too hopeful to believe there could be some kind of arousal or intrigue there, but he could at least tell there wasn’t nearly as much anger as he expected.

Nor was there any disgust.

For a split second, anyway. Then Tim seemed to snap back to reality, trying to pull away from Jason and the knife.

“Over my dead body,” Tim said with as much venom as it seemed like he could muster.

“You know, I’ll do you a favor, Drake.” Jason lifted one leg over the table so he could sit on Tim’s midsection, making him yell in pain. Jason was a heavy son of a bitch, and his body weight did no favor for Tim’s sore ribs.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tim tried to shove Jason’s chest. He looked a little panicked, like a caged animal.

“I think,” Jason dragged out the words, just for show, “you need a little something to remind you of who you belong to. So I’ll be nice, to make sure you don’t forget it.”

He grabbed Tim’s jaw and jerked his head to the side. Tim cried out and tried to get away. He hit Jason in the chest as hard as he could. Which given his current state, was about the same as being smacked by a toddler.

“You should probably stay still if you don’t want a knife in your eye,” Jason warned. He lifted the blade and pressed it into Tim’s cheek, going deep enough to scar.

He didn’t even have to think about it. Jason knew exactly what he was doing the moment he pressed the blade to Tim’s skin.

A mark that anyone would recognize.

A mark just like the one Jason had been given, years ago.

The letter J could stand for a lot of things. And right now, it stood for marking Tim as Jason’s territory.

Jason dragged the knife down and curled it upward. Then he went in for the second cut, dragging across Tim’s cheek.

Tim had the sense to stay perfectly still while the blade moved. Pained noises came out of his throat and he was giving Jason a death stare, but he stayed still.

A perfectly obedient lap dog.

Jason hummed in satisfaction when his work was done. He flicked the knife closed and slipped it back into his belt, watching fresh blood pour down Tim’s face.

Now they matched.

For good measure, Jason bent over and pressed a kiss against the cut, holding his lips there and feeling Tim’s breath on his skin.

Jason pulled away, licking the blood off his mouth. His first time tasting Tim. It definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“I’m going to kill you,” Tim bit the words out through grit teeth.

Jason just smiled. “Don’t you have pesky bat morals about that?” He climbed off Tim, flicking more ashes onto Tim’s skin from the cigarette that had stayed between Jason’s fingers the whole time. He lifted it to his lips, breathing in. “Your suit is over there.” Jason gestured vaguely to the heaped pile of Tim’s suit.

“You’re-” Tim sputtered on his words. “You’re just going to let me leave?”

“I told you,” Jason hummed, wandering toward his fridge, “you can go live your life. I don’t care. You’ll crawl back to me when I want you to.”

“Like hell.” A loud grunt came from Tim and Jason looked over his shoulder, watching Tim slowly move. Every inch looked painful for Tim, but slowly, he managed to get his stiff joints to obey him.

All while Jason watched, offering absolutely no help.

Tim got dressed with a lot of swearing and groans of pain, occasionally shooting Jason a dirty look. He put a small bandage on his cheek, then limped away, leaving behind the shreds of his dignity.

Jason just smiled, finishing his cigarette and stubbing it out on the floor with his heel.

Tim would be back. He would make damn sure of it.

[dimension-20-every-introduction]

Everyone Introduced in Dimension 20's Fantasy High: Junior Year episode 20 (finale)

[mspeevee]

Watching da pokepasta guys bully each other like 🍿🍿🍿🍿

[lovesickeros]

do you have any Rosaria headcanons?

I have sporadic headcannons for like. everyone in this game I think abt it maybe a little. think abt it occasionally. just gonna do generalized hcs here since you didn't specify if you wanted smth like yan/sagau or anything 🧍

cryo characters are my fave to write about bc. looks at tsaritsa. no reason in particular :]

kind of wish hoyo went more in depth with visions. stolen authority of the dragon sovereigns given to the common people and there's no side effects it's just a buff? nah. delusions kind of fill that role but I like to think having a vision still changes you in some manner (kind of like how I imagine the archons still retain certain inhuman characteristics even after losing their gnosis. you don't get that kind of power for free)

for cryo users the obvious thing is very cold body temp. which, to me, is why rosaria is so pale. she's practically bordering on getting frostbite and since she doesn't really interact with people, well, it can be a boon when she "works" at night.

if things had been different, she probably wouldn't have been so frigid. someone like Kaeya, even though he got his vision during his fight with Diluc, still had his brother to even him out alongside the rest of the knights (Jean, Lisa, Amber etc). For me, at least, his vision less affected body temp anyway and just generally numbed some of his senses. namely touch & taste. he's been trying to get Rosaria out more but their both cryo so, well..he can't help much. their absolutely besties though. even outside of drinking and needling Diluc.

she smokes a lot because it's as close to warmth as she can get without burning. she's sensitive to heat, even more so then other cryo users. you'd think her being so cold would offer protection against it, but..nah. absolutely dreads hot summers. it's a nightmare for her.

she's generally just very standoffish but she is practical. not aimed at a specific au here but if you manage to get close to her despite her prickly and relatively cold attitude shes actually very protective. she doesn't get close to a lot of people so the few people she is close to she goes out of her way to make sure no one tries anything with them. though most of her help is behind the scenes - you won't really know it's her unless you somehow figure it out. she's sneaky and works at night, which gives her ample opportunity to sort things out. someone giving you trouble? they apologize the next morning seemingly out of nowhere. forgot or lost something? suddenly find it somewhere in plain view in your house.

shes not exactly thrilled about direct praise and thanks. it makes her feel out of place and awkward. if you do realize what she's doing, it's best not to openly bring it up. just taking her out for drinks or something is enough, but she doesn't care if you do nothing either way.

it's like befriending a feral cat.

she's not exactly fond about touching, either. for both of your sakes. shes COLD as I mentioned earlier and I do mean very cold. she'll stick to admiring from a distance. your too good for her anyway. practically the sun in comparison - she'd melt before she even got close.

she'll protect you and you'll be happy and that's all she would ever need. she's fine watching from a distance because she's gotten accustomed to the dark and cold.

[motherboardmania]

ok, sure

[kuromi-hoemie]

ouggh i remember writing about some nightmares i had on here and i can't find them in search. i wanted to read about them!! i love having nightmares they're such a rush =ω=

(⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ v stoned rn so the word for it escapes me, but my dreams r very like.. coherent, large scale but structured in ways that make sense. so in any given area there's always like populated places you can go and stuff u can do ppl to talk with etc. can get across town if u like with some very interesting public transport concepts?? or drive.

anyways, it's really rare for me to have a nightmare but i said i wanted some last time and i got 3 nights in a row 😹 i want more.. but like.. once a week? 🤞🏾😳 starting tonight?

omg and thinking about it i just remembered 2 of those dreams were the same one! like in the first one basically there are these gates that lead to a backroad to some houses n stuff, v inconspicuous, but that gate ends up being some actual gate that takes u to another world where there's an alternate version of you that comes out at night to try killing u. and some of those alt versions work together and go for anyone like you and some just go for their counterpart specifically. and the First dream was me and this old lady boarded up in a house trying to make it through my first night there, and our experience w her alt version who ended up being the kind that's just interested in her counterpart. they weren't human but there were interesting psychological aspects =ω= since they're you they can rly get in ur head and tear you down. i think in the old lady's case it wasn't trying to provoke her into coming out in anger but more so just like rly went in on those deeper lifelong traumas and regrets to send her spiraling until she didn't want to live anymore and would let it in herself. it did succeed 😔💔 i rly liked her but having to watch that all go down was so 🧍🏾‍♀️ and it's my first night here like huh??

and then i wake up!! and go back to sleep and buddy guess fucking what!! going right back to where i left off, i make it through the rest of the night and in the morning backtrack to the gate and get out of there, and the twist on the gate was once i go into their world my counterpart can come into mine ☝🏾 this dream i don't remember much of other than it was a continuation of the dream i was having which pleasantly surprised me, and that i had to deal with more of that but at my house/area in the dream. i think mine was the roam in packs and attack indiscriminately kind 😬 quite a rush of a night!!

[arolesbianism]

Finallly got around to properly designing Demonstrator! She’s silly

[agonizedembrace]

regarding activity/etc:

with the holiday is pretty much ( if not already ) upon us my activity will be severely sporadic due to my job and the usual family gatherings. which in turn lies into my next point. i typically don't like to talk about this stuff as i don't want it lying on dash bc it's heavy and would rather keep a rather ... positive? hopeful? view in regards to my blog.

since september my grandmother has been in and out of the hopsital, er, and so on due to health issues that are gradually declining. originally she went in for chest pains, which then turned into a stroke into bleeding in her brain... and yeah it just keeps slowly spiraling. she's made a pretty good recovery but it's also rather painful to know it won't be perfect.

yesterday we had our family christmas party with her at her apartment she shares with my uncle. things seemed fine until they pretty much opened it up with the fact that after it was over my aunt would be brining her back to the er due to signs of likely internal bleeding ( and potentially more ). it really dampened the mood for the rest of the party, and acted as yet another reminder of how potentially limited her time is.

so, han, how does that tie into here?

i am a very emotionally driven person, who's already been very low on energy in general. having this hang on my head on months now has left me feeling super down, on top of the awful seasonal depression that hangs over due to me hardly seeing the sun during these months. i'm not asking to be coddled, but just for people to understand that i might not reply to asks, threads, messages, but i see them and i thank you all for considering me & reaching out to me in these attemps.

i try to be active here as i can ( as with my shadowheart blog as well ), some days it's far easier than others. i may have spurts of sudden activity, where i'm silly on dash ... and those are the better days. there may be a span of time where i simply... post nothing, but know i do at least come on daily to check and briefly scroll dash.

anyways, stay safe this season, check in on your loved ones. as much as family parties may suck, don't take them for granted.

[kiigan]

starter call @heartsandwishes

ㅤOf all the things Itachi had expected/hoped to be surprised by after leaving his homeland behind, certainly ice cream had not made it to the initial list - yet here he was now, more than ready to revise his priorities. Not that ice cream, in and of itself, was anything that extraordinary, even. What with Wutai having been turned to the general tourist resort it was nowadays, exotic snacks made especially [and having a super expensive price tag slapped on them] for tourists could easily be found at every corner of the main streets.

This one was... peculiar, though. Salty, but also sweet.

ㅤ«Sea-salt, was it?» The title was appropriate, given the uncanny mix of flavors. In fact, it was making him curious enough to go and check the ingredients, later. Maybe even spare the time to learn the recipe. Once he returned home, he could try his hand at making some for his little brother. Glancing back at Xion, who'd so kindly introduced him to this tiny masterpiece, he smiled after another lick. «I can see why you were talking so highly of it.»

[pumpkinrootbeer]

got some tags that got me thinking. is Evan a asshole on purpose? is Jared? The answer is No (imo) for both of them.

they're both assholes yes but neither one is out to hurt people. they're not *trying* to be an asshole. my post was more abt pointing out that evan is a very selfish often cruel character whose anxiety gets used by the audience as a shield against the horrible things he does while everyone acts like jared is trying to get evan to bomb the Pentagon. most of the show Evan uses the excuse of "helping the Murphys" to justify what he's doing. but he's not helping them, he's actively hurting them and dragging out their grieving process! it is a horrific thing he does! this is something the show criticizes through jared bc is evan reaaaaally just trying to help a grieving family or does he like the attention.

even the "no one deserves to be forgotten" motif is a farce because they are remembering connor in name only. connor is forgotten because of evan and in his place is a false fake version of connor that Evan invented. evan uses connors death to prop himself up and make himself look better. but did he do this on purpose? no. but it felt good, so he kept doing it.

again! a really really big part of the show is evan does a lot of mean shitty things but can't admit, even to himself, that he's doing mean things. "I don't even think mean things!" It's not really until "good for you" and "words fail" that he realizes why he was really doing all of this. that he can't keep lying to everyone AND himself. lying to yourself is a huge theme of the show, see "Did you fall or did you let go?"

and wow this got way longer than i intended but imo basically evan isn't trying to be an asshole but it also can't accurately be described as accidental. he's doing these asshole things on purpose but not to be an asshole, if that makes sense?

and to briefly touch on my "Jared isn't an asshole on purpose either" statement: Jared does the shit not to hurt people but to try and make them laugh or to get himself attention. he's making shitty mean spirited jokes to cover up his own insecurity but he's not trying to hurt people. when he's trying to hurt someone he's gets real passive aggressive but I'm not explaining this part super well because I already wrote an Evan manifesto but whatever. autism explosion beam

[kencanas]

location: by the bonfire.

status: closed to kova, @oflofticries ; what came from the sea.

the man tending to the bonfire is familiar, dante thinks. it's safer to stick to familiar figures. the alternative is— no. not right now. this is not the time, not this close to the start of the new year. they can still make sense of this. "kova," he starts. his fingers reach out to tap the older man on the shoulder. a hesitant smile follows. "all is well here?"

[cabeswaterdrowned]

probably a pointless observation but I think it’s interesting how little we see of the dreams of characters who aren’t Ronan/aren’t magical dreamers. Like given this was the era of ya that was full of dream sequences. I think the only ones in og trc are Adam’s dream in TRB which is just the same as the vision tree one before he goes to sacrifice himself, Blue in TRK dreaming of Gansey before he leaves to sacrifice himself which is a parallel for sure but. I just think it’s interesting we know so little about what the other chars dream about …

[daydreamerdrew]

Tales of Suspense (1959) #92