#and only can reexperience

[snackugaki]

so normal about this trailer

so normal about turtles

[thatsonemorbidcorvid]

A few weeks after #MeToo exploded on the internet, an old friend and I did what so many women did during that time: We got on the phone and finally began to acknowledge what had happened to us. My friend shared a story of hers from college. Back then, we’d all just considered it a “bad date,” but she now recognized it as sexual assault. She also shared that at nearly every single job she’s had since college, a boss or co-worker has sexually harassed her.

The month before our conversation, I had published an essay sharing my own experience of sexual assault while traveling abroad. Like my friend, it was not my only experience—it was one of many. But I’d only included the one, because in the early stages of #MeToo, the idea of sharing one assault story still felt risky. The idea of sharing more than one felt culturally impossible. My friend agreed.

“As a woman, you’re only allowed one #MeToo moment,” she told me. “After that, people begin assuming the problem must be you.”

Out of the many celebrity #MeToo stories told in the past five years, only a handful have acknowledged the experience of multiple assaults. In an HBO documentary, Alanis Morisette spoke about repeated incidents of statuatory rape that happened when she first entered the music industry, all of which “fell on deaf ears” when she tried seeking accountability. In her memoir, Selma Blair wrote about a teacher who sexually assaulted her, as well as the many men who raped her in her 20s. In an interview with Dazed, Amber Rose said, “I cannot even count how many times a famous guy touched me inappropriately.” On a social media post during the Kavanaugh hearings, Tatum O’Neal wrote about her multiple assaults: “It was not my fault when I was 5, 6, 12, 13, 15.”

Stories that emphasize the ubiquitous nature of assault are vital in a world that so often focuses on one dramatic episode, with visceral details of the violation and an easily identifiable villain. This amplifies the false idea that assault is just a singular, horrifying incident—when in reality, many of us experience it as part of a larger, more insidious culture.

Once a person is assaulted, research shows they’re more likely to be assaulted again, a phenomenon called “revictimization.” Around 50 percent of children who survive sexual assault reexperience it later in life, and even a single incident of sexual assault in adulthood can increase the risk for it to happen again. As psychologist A.E. Jaffe and her colleagues wrote in a 2019 paper on revictimization: “Perhaps the most consistent predictor of future trauma exposure is a history of prior trauma exposure.”

Why would this be? In lieu of a good answer for it (more on that in a moment), we often blame victims themselves. We easily justify these statistics by suggesting that anyone who has survived multiple incidents of violence must be asking for it—either by acting promiscuously, hanging around too many shady men, or getting themselves into precarious situations. One survivor I interviewed told me that though she received some form of victim-blaming in response to all three sexual assaults she experienced, she noticed a stark decrease in support each time it happened again.

“After the second and third, some people began saying, ‘What’s happening in your life to attract that?’ or ‘Do you have enough awareness to know when men want to harm you?’ ” she told me. “One person even asked why I was ‘trusting men so much.’ ” Another friend who experienced multiple assaults went through a similar line of questioning, only with herself. “After so many times, I began asking myself, ‘What is it about me that brings on these experiences?’ ” she said. I told her I ask myself that question all the time.

In his essay “Spectator” for Roxane Gay’s anthology on sexual assault stories, Not That Bad, Brandon Taylor wrote about his best friend telling him she was beginning to think she was “just the kind of person this stuff happens to.” For a long time, that’s what I believed, too. As a travel writer and a single bisexual woman, I figured that at some point, I’d pay the price. Eventually, I’d have to face some element of physical harm—wasn’t that the obvious trade-off for attempting a liberated life? To me, survivorship—more than resilience, bravery, or strength—often felt like resignation.

But in some cases, it’s exactly that resignation that influences repeat assaults. While there’s no conclusive evidence as to why revictimization happens, we do know that normalizing assault can contribute to future harm. If a survivor has not internalized their experience as exceptionally traumatic, they are less likely to advocate for themselves, or demand accountability if it happens again. If they, like me, accept violence as an obvious fact of their lives, then when it repeats, they don’t seek the support they need to process and heal from each experience.

In an article for Psychology Today, psychotherapist and clinical social worker Keith Fadelici called this a “cognitive accommodation to ongoing violence.” The trauma continuously gets downplayed as victims attempt to normalize their assaults, which helps them feel more in control. “This dissociative process is a common symptom of PTSD,” Fadelici told me. “And can also later make survivors less capable of detecting risk by numbing the fear that is supposed to trigger alertness to danger.”

Oppression also plays a significant role. Those with marginalized identities are more at risk for experiencing assault in general, and thus more likely to experience it again. LGBTQ+ people are four times more likely to be assaulted than the general population (bisexual women and trangender people also are far more likely to experience assault than gay men and lesbian women). Rates of sexual assault for Indigenous women are three times higher than non-Indigenous women, and Black women are much more likely to experience assault than white women. Neurodivergent people are 11 times more likely than neurotypical people to be victims of violent crimes.

“If this is coming up repeatedly with one individual, it might be because that person is within systems and structures that facilitate assault more often,” said Jaffe. For those of us living with any of these identities, we normalize violence because living under oppression is consistently violent. In order to survive, a “cognitive accommodation to ongoing violence” is necessary. We train ourselves to get used to it, and move on.

After #MeToo, I began reading and rereading the legal definitions for rape and sexual assault to make sense of what had happened to me. Any sexual contact that occurred without consent constitutes assault? Any sexual contact that included penetration without the other person’s consent constitutes rape? The criteria felt almost too easy. Under these standards, I had been raped twice, and assaulted several other times—all stories I had not yet fully internalized, and was not yet ready to tell. Dozens of legal crimes had been committed against my body, but that idea felt so unfathomable I hardly knew what to do next.

In the three years after publishing that first story, I experienced more incidents, and I still don’t know what to call them. I don’t feel comfortable firmly declaring them as “assault.” I don’t like how it connects so deeply with an oppressive legal system, and how it automatically connotes some excessive form of violence. Even today, it seems too strong and rough a word for how these episodes played out: often with little physicality, with only brief conflict and polite turns toward quick forgiveness, until weeks later when I’d unpack the severity of what had happened. As I began sharing more of these stories with close friends, I would catch myself saying “technically” before saying “I was assaulted,” acknowledging the semantic disconnect I still felt. This hesitation is common among many survivors: As one 2019 meta-analysis showed, rates of victimization increase when participants are asked “behaviorally descriptive questions” about what happened to them, rather than questions that use terms like “rape” and “assault.”

Sometimes, people ask “How many times all together?” I say “six-ish,” a number that captures the amount of experiences that have dramatically changed the way I relate to my body—how it experiences intimacy, how it engages with the world: The one that happened at work, just weeks into my first job out of college. The one at a festival in India. The one while getting a deep-tissue massage. The one at a New York play party. The one so common I learned it has its own name (“stealthing“). The one with a lover I had loved and trusted deeply. The one with another lover, a violation that was not sexual but physical and thus, as yet another nonconsensual act done against my body, still felt so connected to all the rest.

And this still does not take into account every time I was nonconsensually touched in public—the men who pulled and grabbed my arms, my back, my butt, my shoulders to try to get my attention on the street—nor the times I’ve been followed, harassed, physically threatened by strangers on the street.

The accumulation of more and more of these events creates a compounding impact, one where each additional incident begins to amplify the ones before. For me and most survivors I spoke to, we are not healing from trauma—we are learning how to exist in a world where trauma continues to accumulate.

Every survivor I interviewed for this piece told me they fully accept the potential that they’ll experience assault in the future. Still, most of them admitted to me that it’s still easier to only share just one story with the world—never the full range of what has happened to them. “When you only have one story, the enemy is the rapist,” one survivor told me. “But when you have several people with a lifetime of these experiences, the enemy is all of us.”

This is what we mean when we talk about rape culture. The first thing we can do to start to dismantle it is to recognize what we’re up against.

[ohbo-ohno]

Can't get over how fucking puppy shaped Johnny is. And how everyone can see it. Us, Ghost, the 141, his co's before them. That man is just begging for a good boy (and a belly rub!) and any excuse to get on his knees for his superiors. Like fuck, but for all his healthy disrespect of authority, Soap was made to take orders.

Just imagine that Simon isn't the first co to get handsy with Johnny, that he isn't the first to push the boundaries of what is proper. Ghost is all satisfied how well Soap is taking his slow puppyfication. Meanwhile Soap is so used to his co's giving him pats on the head, making him eat from their fingers, kneel between their legs and making dehumanizing comments about him that he doesn't even register what Ghost is doing as anything abnormal.

Just. Puppy!Soap where everyone and their mother knows that that was not supposed to be a human and treating him accordingly.

oh my GOD i just recently read a fic where soap (or maybe ghost) had had a previous CO take advantage of him sexually under the guise of "punishment" and he went to price (or maybe ghost) after he fucked up, expecting the same treatment, and instead of telling him "that's wrong, report that freak" price/ghost just takes advantage of him in the same way and 🥴🥴🥴 if someone here recognizes it PLEASE link it i need to reexperience it

anyways thinking about johnny obviously being completely puppy shaped, but because everyone sees that and treats him accordingly he becomes even more puppy shaped. like he becomes more obedient (and well trained) once people start to occasionally treat him like he's a dog :(

like CO's will write little notes in his file specifically about how he needs verbal praise (multiple literally wrote the words "good boy" or "good sergeant") and there are a couple notes about physical touch - punishment or congratulatory - work best to get his attention. CO's read those notes, take one look at johnny, and go Oh Alright and act accordingly. price and ghost are no different

price is more "talking to you like you're a K9 because it's what makes you most effective in the field" and ghost is more "talking to you like the mutt i just brought home who hasn't been trained yet because i want you to think of nothing but pleasing me", yk?

(it turns out that ghost's biggest problem isn't getting johnny to behave, it's getting everyone else to stop fucking touching him like only ghost should be)

[talesofthedm]

List of ships I have and why (companions only):

Wyll x Karlach: wyll is a hopeless romantic and Karlach just wants soft relationship and I think she'd help him with the new horns and he'd help her reexperience all the intimacy and soft relationships she missed during her time in Avernus and also I want a dance scene with them here he tries to teach her without actually touching her. It would be some of Wylls most cherished memories, even after she dies and it takes him a while to move on and she's forever the one who got away because he couldn't bring himself to send her back to Avernus cuz it's the one wish she had and now I'm sad writing this

Lae'zel x Shadowheart (short term): they would not be a healthy (romantic) relationship in the long term. But I feel like they force all the pent up emotions about all the bullshit they're experiencing out of each other and by extent help each other process it. Ultimately they figure that out and just kinda part ways romantically, but the understanding makes them lifelong friends.

Lae'zel x Gale: he'd reach out to her in that awkward 'idk what to say or do because I don't deal with people but I know how you feel' kinda way after the creche. She just tolerates him as he rambles about special interests and maybe answers questions about the astral sea and the gith as she opens up more. They kinda bond over the realization that their respective gods are both assholes and that each other are worth more than they were originally led to believe.

Shadowheart x Halsin (later life): idk if they'd be long term, but I like the idea what after shadowheart is forced to revaluate her beliefs and faith and ultimately herself and place in the world that Halsin is just a kind shoulder and he helps her rediscover herself and what it is to have healthy relationships without expectations and also she gets to climb mount Halsin but that's a later thing.

Astarion x Halsin: Idk if it would be long term, but the two would def help each other through their respective traumas and at minimum always mean the world to each other even if they decide to pursue it as a friendship and not a romantic interest and Astarion would help Halsin realize self care and it's okay to be selfish sometimes and Halsin would help him understand that he can find fulfillment in helping others

[logicaltips]

The replacement (Chongyun, Part 1)

A short story about one of my first 4 star mains and how he's stuck around in my account despite having better options.

As the gold star soared through the sky, Chongyun felt as if his heart was about to burst. As heretical as it was to wish for the Summoner of Stars to feel sad, Chongyun still prayed for the star to not land in Liyue.

The star flew closer.

He prayed that the star would fall in the hands of the Yuheng and not in the hands of the workaholic secretary.

The star flew into the Jade Chamber.

Each blessed acolyte around Teyvat heard the Creator's cheers of delight.

Chongyun stopped praying, and could only sit by and watch his dreams freeze over and shatter into tiny pieces.

The day the divine Creator of Teyvat had chosen Chongyun as one of their first acolytes, he was bedridden for many days from sheer joy.

As soon as he could calm himself down and recover, his family clan and friends immediately threw a massive celebration for the blessing. How much his parents boasted during the party; their son, leading the Creator in their journey to reexperience the world they created!

Even Auntie Shenhe paid a visit, although it was long after the crowds dispersed, to have a small private conversation with Chongyun, before departing soon after.

The first few months of traveling with the Creator's presence in his mind was nothing short of magical; for the first time in his life, Chongyun was unhindered by the excess Yang energy in his body. Enemies that once gave him trouble through their usage of Pyro energy were swiftly defeated by his hand and the Creator's blessed weapons. Eating spicy foods for the first time was a shock, especially to Xingqiu, but Chongyun still sharing the special moment with the One Who Gave Strength. The Creator even granted Chongyun's wish; he finally got to see an evil spirit, and vanquished it himself!

Life began to follow a routine. The Creator would call on Chongyun in the afternoon, fight the various enemies that stood in the Creator's way for the Adventurer's Guild's Commissions, explore Teyvat, and used his claymore to mine the materials needed to strengthen him and his fellow acolytes. Despite the monotonous nature of the routine, Chongyun still cherished it with all his heart, as any moment spent with the Creator is a time well spent.

However, routines can be broken.

Trouble began to brew as Teyvat entered fall. His parents awoke to Chongyun screaming and sobbing from his room.

"Chongyun offers the least amount of offensive enhancements-"

"Chongyun can't take advantage of freeze since he uses a claymore. Ganyu's better for freeze teams."

"His damage isn't that high compared to other Cryo units; you'll need him at C6 to use him to the fullest. Unless you're willing to put in like 30k primos for that or you have god tier luck, that's not gonna happen."

These were the words that Chongyun heard of in his dreams. Many holy scriptures have stated that acolytes of the Divine Creator may sometimes hear voices from the other inhabitants of the Creator's heavenly realm. But this was the first time any acolyte of this world has heard such criticism of their strength.

After all, what did it matter, as long the Creator was satisfied with their acolyte's current strength?

Right?

The dreams didn't stop there. Time and time again, Chongyun, and only Chongyun, heard that he wasn't strong enough, that his strength was allocated in all the wrong places, that he was only useful in rare situations, and that only other potential acolytes were worthy of the Creator's blessings.

Oh, how Chongyun wished to visit the Creator's world to shut those voices up. How dare they criticize the Creator's choice to bless him? But most of all, Chongyun was terrified.

What if the Creator was persuaded? Would he be left sitting on the sidelines, watching other acolytes receive the Creator's praise? A horrifying vision passes through his mind, that as the Creator abandons him, all of their gifts and blessings would be removed, and that Chongyun would return to his old self once more.

And so, to prevent such a fate from occuring, Chongyun intensified his training. He scoured Liyue for all sorts of evil spirits and demons, sometimes even going alongside Adeptus Xiao and his aunt as they hunted threats to Liyue, all to test and prove himself to the Creator.

His family would frequently see Chongyun stumble back home, tired and ragged from hours of training and combat. They reassured him that the Creator would never abandon such a loyal acolyte.

"You will always be the Creator's right hand. So please, don't run yourself ragged."

But the fears never ceased, and rather, flared up in intensity once it was announced that Secretary Ganyu, Chongyun's main competitor, would have a chance to be granted the Creator's blessings.

And so, as Chongyun listened to the cheers emitting from the Jade Chamber, he glanced towards his future, and only saw uncertainty.

[aadrawings]

Wrapped up Sam & Max: The Devil's Playhouse and there really isn't much I can say that hasn't been said already. It's not only one of the best point and clicks ever made but also the best Sam & Max game ever made. Whatever happens to the Freelance Police after this is anyone's guess, but for now I'm just happy I got to reexperience this sucker again.

Good job Skunkape Games.

Also, didn't know Max was a member of the Chums. Always the ones you least expect.

[crow-in-a-teapot]

unreal unearth first impressions

OKAY REALISING I AM RELISTENING TO THIS ALBUM FOR THE HUNDREDTH TIME JUST TODAY ACCIDENTALLY SO IIM GONNA QUICKLY WRITE DOWN MY FIRST IMPRESSIONS BC IM ALREADY BEGINNING TO ACTUALY THINK ABOUT THINGS AND LOOK AT LYRICS AND READ OTHER PEOPLE'S OPINIONS, so here is an only slightly tainted not quite first impression of unreal unearth from me (obviously the singls ive heard before but)

de selby (part 1) i turned on the album sitting in the absolute dark, ten minutes past twelve at night, this started playing, cue instant tears. i think i was just hit with 'this is the most beautiful thing ive ever heard' and i wasn't expecting that from de selby 1 for some reason. and when the irish kicked in that just. no words, just crying and im what two minutes in. i wasn't even thinking about what he'd been saying about connemara in the dark and mirrors of people you used to know (i'd seen him talk about it, but purposefully skipped the actual song when it came up online) it was just. de selby 1. and the part as gaeilge

de selby (part 2) sexy groovy silly fun, it's really growing on me, thinking about 'i'd still know you, not being shown you

i only need the workin' of my hands' also i cant wait to read third policeman and look at this completely differently

first time the beginning was jarring, and then at the lyric about his name i kind of :( i also liked the lethe/liffey parallel, it's so very hozier of him to do that. god the push and pull of there must have been something off from the beginning? if every time they called him baby he died? something like that was my first interpretation, now im wondering if it's because it's not his name and they're the one that made his name sound wonderful for once. intellectualising that part of the lyrics kind of ruins it for me ngl, i think it's more about how it feels, i think it feels like contrast like not knowing if it hurts or is wonderful. little detail of when he says come here to me and it sounds so casual and irish like come here to me tell me, i really love it. and the final lyric hurt. really impeccable timing for a breakup album like

francesca why can't i listen to i'd tell them put me back in it for the first time again WHY CAN'T I LISTEN TO I'D TELL THEM PUT ME BACK IN IT FOR THE FIRST TIME AGAIN AND REEXPERIENCE THAT. my favourite thing from this hozier era might just be that music video (over all the other ones help)

i, carrion (icarian) is just really devastating. sunlight but what if you wanted your heart to be torn to shreds. the imagery is so vivid

eat your young is growing on me too, the lyrics are just so good. they're just SO GOOD, their rhythm is so satisfying they fit together so smoothly, and at this point it's just as fun and danceable as something like de selby 2

damage gets done is kind of pop? it made me think of the bones ft marren morris

who we are [had to remove a section here] the vocals are otherwordly. the drums are gorgeously frantic. quietly it slips through your fingers love??? falling from you drop by drop??? HOLD ME LIKE A KNIFE???makes me physically ache

son of nyx i'm so glad this is here, an instrumental was something that really could put me back to where i was mentally with de selby (part 1). first thing i thought was i can't wait to learn the piano part. i've seen people say this, but it does seem like the obvious, it's an instrumental that just belongs in a movie

all things end all things do end so real. very cool how much of a direct inflence gospel music is

to someone from a warm climate (uiscefhuarithe) i can't wait to relisten to this one again and again, the parallels between being a child warming up a bed and jumping to later in time with a lover aaaa so tender NATURAL AS ANOTHER LEG AROUND YOU IN THE BEDFRAME AAAA

butchered tongue A FAVOURITE A FAVOURITE foreigner's god but softer, how can i listen to this and ever leave ireland how can i listen to this and feel like this and be packing suitcases what is wrong with meeeeee. the violin and the instrumence. jesus christ. instantly picturing my road signs when he started singing about the native ones

anything but THIS SONG STARTED AND I INSTANTLY STARTED SMILING COMPLETELY INVOLUNTARILY, THOUGHT OF ALMOST (SWEET MUSIC) i started thinking of bright lion king imagery before he even started talking about stampedes and hoofbeats. and the vocals here too, so overwhelmed by how cheerful and joyous it sounded that i really didnt pay attention to lyrics, so it'll be cool to look deeper later

abstract (psychopomp) the production here i was very unsure about, because there was something that made me think if it were more rustic/intrumental and less modern, it might have hit me even harder, like there might have been a way to elevate it further. it made me think of colours and purples and reds and oranges, another really visual song, like i, carrion. it's really gorgeous. SEE HOW IT SHINES will be in my head for a long long time... ugh it's all so bittersweet and sad and beautiful. all my love and terror there balanced between those eyes what a line

unknown / nth if you've scrolled through my accunt for longer than a second you know how i feel about unknown / nth

first light i was hit with such intense terror that this was the last song of the album. what am i supposed to do for the next decade without music to look forward to while andrew goes back into hibernation under bray train station jean jacket lost and found or whatever. so i didnt play and instead did this musing on how beautiful the vocals throughout the album are and how funny it was in the zach sang interview when he talked about singing instead of playing instruments when recording songs because he's 'better at singing than most intruments' and his producer just wouldnt replace those voice recordings and that's why there are so many choirs and zach is basically like 'you absolute weirdo no one else has the talent to do that but ok' (affectionate) (paraphrasing). i love the drums so much. i love the strings so much too. A VOICE YOUR BODY JUMPS TO CALLING OUT YOUR NAME :(((((((((((( imagining hearing this in the 3arena and having colours break out across the whole ceiling ill remember those lights during no plan in 2019 forever im an indoor concert girlie forever what they can do visually is so magical.. i saw a good omens edit of this today already i love you good omens fans

not to sound like a broken record i wish swan upon leda and through me the flood and love of were on this and maybe even but the wages and

[seratuyo]

My bookshelf

I am a person who goes back to media I enjoyed time and time again - be it movies, tv series, books - or fanfiction! It brings me a sense of comfort, apart from some stuff being so good you just need to experience them again.

So, while this is mostly for my own entertainment and so that I can easily find that very specific fic I have in mind and want to reexperience - you can also treat it as my recommendations?

I'll link this in my bio later + will update regularly.

Cassian Andor

Can't Stay Away

you called

Dieter Bravo

stay gold, baby boy

Frankie Morales

Baby... Take Me Home

Joel Miller

a matter of time

broad, hairy chest - Joel...

i'll be home for christmas | part one

i'll be home for christmas | part two

i'll be home for christmas | part three

i'll be home for christmas | something only you can give (one-shot)

Joel Miller talks you through it

Mistletoe Kiss

Max Phillips:

Blood & Tinsel

All these amazing stories came from just as amazing authors:

@chronically-ghosted

@cupofjoel

@djarindroid

@moralesispunk

@morallyinept

@pedrito-friskito

@punkshort

@sinpathyforthedevilish

And the dividers are by talented @saradika-graphics

❤️

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Into the Unknown

If you're happy and you know it

(The sequel story that I will never do)

~~~~~

After a lot of debating over the ethics of leaving baby!Damian as a baby vs aging him up (and a rogue suggestion that they yank an alternate-universe Damian over right before he dies so they can all have their way), they decide to let him grow up naturally. In the end, baby!Damian is still a child and in the process of aging him up magically Damian would reexperience all of his traumas in basically a split second, which is just a lot of mental strain to put someone through. Beyond that, even after aging him up they still wouldn’t get the original Damian back, as the base person is so fundamentally different.

So, Damian basically gets to have a happy childhood with his parents and new extended family! Yay him!

I mean, sure, Damian has never truly known a world outside of the one he had been in, and his aunt and uncles are acting weird around him for reasons he can’t really comprehend, and his dreams are getting increasingly concerning and confusing, and his parents seem more quiet than usual even though they’re around more to hang out with him…

Did he do something wrong?

Meanwhile, Adrien comes from France to check on her and also chuck the Miraculous Box back at her in revenge. Marinette explains that she no longer wishes to do superheroing, but would be happy to help support him from the sidelines. Adrien is surprised, because she had been so interested like a year ago, but before he can be like “oh, good for you”, Gotham experiences its Giant Rogue Attack Of The Week and Adrien looks at the bats like Damn bitch you live like this? Gotham vigilante crew has now been adopted by a French demigod, congrats to them.

But, since Adrien is staying in Gotham, he and Marinette have to navigate this new dynamic between themselves where Adrien actually takes charge while Marinette is more of a healer character, staying out of sight during battles and only really cropping up at the end of fights to help victims and make sure her favorite Kitty doesn’t die. She has the condition that she will not enter a fight at all, as she refuses to leave Damian without a parent, and she will keep to it. So, Adrien is a little bit more careful, not wanting to risk it.

In that same vein, this old universe is still a cesspool of villains that didn’t exist in the original one. Joker, Poison Ivy, Mr. Freeze. And, as a Wayne, and a young one at that, Damian keeps getting targeted.

Until villains start dropping off the map. Under mysterious circumstances. And none of the bats can bring themselves to look into it. Because it’s much harder to brush off all of the deaths they have been indirectly causing by letting Rogues live when you know the person who has almost died personally. Even more so when that person that almost died is your little brother that closely resembles the little brother that you just found out ‘died’. When the person that almost died is the little brother that named that stuffed turtle you bought him Turtle because he’s too young to be good at naming things (and will never get better, because they had seen what he had named Alfred the Cat, and maybe the reminder just makes it more difficult).

In the meantime, Tim goes back to work as CEO and starts training to be a vigilante again. People at his job who hardly respected him before because of his age and the nepotism surrounding his hiring now don’t respect him at all after his sudden 6-month break. But that's just his day job, his cover. He's rich. He could quit at any time with very little repercussions.

When it comes to his vigilantism, if he works hard, he could get back into it in a few months, but he keeps watching his family members walk back home with bruises and cuts and more and he had forgotten just how bad it had gotten. Or, maybe he hadn’t forgotten, maybe he had just never realized, and his time as a civilian has altered his perspective.

But he has always been one to commit, and he can’t bring himself to sit by idly without helping, and it isn’t quite so dangerous when most of the major players have been forcibly removed from the equation, so he does it.

Until he comes back, bleeding all over the floor, yelling for Marinette, and Damian sees him. The kid stares at him with horrified, wide eyes. And it would be one thing if Damian didn’t understand, if it was something he would later realize was a close call, but Damian rushes forward to press his hands against the wound.

He realizes he can’t bring himself to do this to the kid.

But he can’t sit idly by while his family risks their lives, either.

So, he becomes a mechanic in this world, too.

And, with both Tim and Marinette off the streets, and Damian more or less safe, and a little bit of time where they get used to their 'new' lives…

Tim proposes. Properly.

They have a wedding. Damian is the little ring bearer. Adrien is a bridesmaid. After all of this time, after all that struggling, they finally get their happy ending.

[sputnikodin]

my bathroom was not a bathroom originally so the shower has a regular window in it, with a wooden sill on the inside, at chest-and-head height so i am daily showing people across the street my tits, and the bathroom is at an angle because the floor beneath it is sinking so the water from the shower does not run off the windowsill like it's supposed to and instead pools in one corner against the windowframe, and because the bathroom was not at first a bathroom there isn't a fan or ventilation system either so the windowsill puddle after every shower sits and develops an ecosystem over the course of the next day as it sinks into the softly rotting wood, and i noticed this too late to begin wiping it down with a towel after every shower because the water sitting on the wood made the wood Moldy and i didn't want to christen a dedicated Mold Towel when i only had three towels to begin with, but the mold apart from just like being mold also made showering unpleasant because it was like Right There the entire time and i couldn't stop thinking about its proximity and trying to avoid it so after several short-term-solution cullings i finally this last weekend really went to town on the situation, bleach and two toothbrushes and other chemicals and objects i won't list in full here except to say that one of the objects was a second shower curtain liner, which i hung over the entire window and sill and most of the width of that wall of the shower so that the water just mechanically cannot Get to the newly sanitized and dehumidified sill at all, which worked splendidly when i tried it out tonight except i kept the window open to aid the general moisture status of the room and both the plastic liner on my shower curtain and the one over the window billowed inward, trapping me and the water in a gently heaving crevice, like someone's art installation of the vaginal canal through which visitors can walk to reexperience the moment of birth

[thevampiresoc]

I'll put my funny little notes under the cut.

So for a tiny smidgen of lore, when Matthew was around the age of 4, still hanging around his bio mom, he witnessed her death. A spear to the heart, then one to each lung, and then a hook dragging her body up- she was mistaken for a siren, something said to mimic mermaids. But sadly she was just a mermaid. Canonically that was... 21 years ago, almost 22. It still haunts Matthew, but sadly due to the curse- whenever Matthew blinks, he seems red water. Water that shouldn't be red. And if he closes his eyes for longer, or takes a quick nap, all that can be seen and felt is waters for miles upon miles, stained a dark crimson red, pulling him in like quicksand. It's worse if he sleeps. He doesn't dream anymore when this curse is applied. He can only reexperience his mothers death, the tears rolling without him meaning them to, as hes reminded that he was too young to save his biological mother.

And it only worsens with how long he goes without rest. But with how the curse worsens him with that memory, he doesn't want to. Which leads into the other part of the curse.

The longer he goes without rest, the longer it affects his vision. Specifcally, how he sees his former nemesis and now lover, Zorn. It starts off with seeing more scars than normal on him, but quickly shaking his head or focusing his eyes and blinking fixes that. But as he grows more tired, his words mix eachother up- referring to Zorn in the past tense, when he is still breathing, walking around with a heart beat! And resting with him, unable to sleep for a few good days, is hell. He's watching Zorn sleep, but slowly his lovers corpse decomposes before his eyes- it takes a nap, the feeling of what is unarguably his mother blood pulling him in like a tomb, to correct that. Now, an after effect of the curse, which would only linger for a day or two which I thought of, is that an image of Zorn's corpse, wounds plentiful and open, face torn off and festering, staring at him from the corner of his eye is burnt into his only good eye. It only disappears when he looks.

also heres what i mean by burnt-in

[salemruinseverything]

BRENDON URIE?

STUPID IDIOT MOTHERFUCKING BRENDON URIE? GOD DAMN FOOL MONEY GRABBING DUST EATING RAT OLD BASTARD SHITHEAD IDIOT AVATAR OF THE WHORE BIGGEST CLOWN IN THE CIRCUS LAUGHED OUT OF TOWN POSER MOTHERFUCKING BRENDON URIE?

STOP PINNING ME WHEN I TALK ABOUT BRENDON URIE I HATE HIM SO MUCH WHY DOES HE HAVE SO MANY FUCKED UP SONGS WHY DID HE DECIDE TO FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT JUST SET THEM LOOSE IS HE DEAD IS HE A BASTARD MAN HAS SUCH A VISCERAL AFFECT ON ME NOT EVEN IN THE ROOM AND I KNOW HE HAS THE WORLDS SHITTIEST MOUSTACHE GET AWAY FROM ME

if i wanted to get into wwwyf and god said brendon uries waiting inside i would piss on gods feet for the sole purpose of getting sent back out

if i have to deal with brendon urie speaking one word in person on voice in real life not only will i close the instagram live i will delete my bookmark out of spite and have to reexperience the entire festival again for the experience of being able to skip all the times when he is mentioned or alive

i know why i hate him so much. he hasnt done it in years but i am just mad because i am angy

he better have some fucked up backstory to explain this if hes just some rich shithead whos a fan of creepypasta and wanted the irl version ill go ham

BETTER have had a ryan ross make him kill a man cuz if he didnt Im going to make him

paypal.com/IFuckingHateBrendonUrie

posters not even about him. vaguely mentioned what is supposed to maybe be his band and I lost it

where the fuck is brendon urie if hes still alive im going to so deeply wish he wasnt

crusty middle aged man

ill punch brendon and his sad frail alcoholic twig bones will simply flake apart under my epic huge meat fist and he will disintegrate until all thats left is one final book he kept on him at all times simply titled Now You Fucked Up in ancient yeemo

im not breathing im hyperventilating at this point

i hope theres a date given for when brendon will die so i can make it a reminder on my phone

everyday once a year i will see it and do anything but pay respects to the man who had so many fucked up and not true songs

[heretherebedork]

Of course Suasoon is going to make sure he and Ongsa never meet of teenagers. That's the only point he has now. the only comfort he can take, that they will never meet and that some other Suasoon will not hurt like he is hurting, will not lose for a second time and will be protected from the pain of broken love and that, somewhere, Ongsa will be safe as well.

Because Suasoon does not believe that is it is better to have loved and lost, he believes it is better to never have loved at all.

Suasoon is drowning in his own fears and in a future he's terrified to face because the future holds only pain now, only fear now.

So instead he clings to teenaged Ongsa and what they had and what they will never have again if he succeeds. Because

is exactly what he believes and what he is clinging to now, the buildings blocks of the only way he sees to fix the pain of the future.

Also a really fake CGI butterfly. There was also a really fake CGI butterfly.

But anyway... Suasoon found himself in the past and suddenly he knew what he had to do but he's been dragging his feet to reexperience the love that he will now never experience in the first place.

Suasoon is trying to find love with this teenaged Ongsa to remind himself why he's stopping his own love story from happening, to remind himself of what he's trying to protect.

Himself.

And Ongsa.

[kurgy]

Oh man if you’re down can you tell us more about the knight and the squire ocs?

hiiiiii i dont remember passing out last night but i did and am now typing up a storm

so in a northern country war broke out between 3 feuding royal factions and has waged for 100 years, the Knight is a soldier fighting for the long since fallen 3rd faction. the Knight was high in the chain of command, and close with the royal family, but the last century of war has taken a serious toll on him mentally, and he can no longer measure time or keep consistent memories. he cant remember them, or his name, he only knows he is at war, and that his enemies wear emblems in green and blue. hes not actually sure how long its been anymore, and wanders the country into battles between the still feuding last 2 factions and kills any he sees. he is tired, broken, and lonely.

he doesnt normally interact with noncombatants at all, and avoids cities and villages, subsisting on jerkied meats and any water he comes across.

the squire isnt an officially appointed squire or anything, and the Knight never claims him as such. the Knight found him sitting still under a dead tree in a rainstorm. the country is plagued by heavy mists and rains, so sitting under a barren tree for cover seemed odd to the Knight, and he approached out of curiosity. The closer he got the more he suspected he was actually looking at a statue, the squire didnt move an inch, or blink, it didnt even seem like he was breathing, just sitting serenely under the tree completely still. When the Knight spoke to him, the squires whole body twitched, and suddenly he was responsive.

the Knight asked what he was doing here, and the squire explains he is waiting, and hungry. the Knight offers him jerkied beef, which he accepts, and continues on his way and the squire begins to follow him.

At first the Knight ignores him as the squire tags along behind him, and steadily he begins caring for the Knight's injuries, tending his armor and weapon, and preparing him proper food, and the Knight just sort of accepted his presence.

He learns the squires name is Nól, and only calls himself a squire when the Knight compares his actions to their duties, and after being alone so long the Knight begins to care for him.

something isnt right about Nól from the beginning, and the Knight is mostly blind to his oddities, both out of affection and his distance from others on a personal level for so long, but unbeknownst to him Nóls entire purpose for being seems to be centered around the Knight. Nól adapts completely to the Knight's needs, to often unnatural degrees. He cooks to his tastes long since forgotten, pulls off feats he should not be able to, and can physically change his anatomy to accommodate the Knight's needs. He can grow limbs and retreat them, speak languages the Knight's never heard, change size and shape though not necessarily a shapeshifter, and experience subtle physical changes throughout the story reflecting the Knight's choices.

For instance, while sheltering from a particularly nasty storm in a cave and low on supplies, the Knight wonders if being able to use magic to make a fire would be beneficial, and seemingly on cue Nól develops the ability to use magic, and makes him a fire.

Nóls own goal is to free the Knight of his duty, and become what he needs to serve something new, as the Knight will never stop fighting until he is either dead or dismissed from duty, he can only die via being physically killed and he is a beast, and there is no one left to dismiss him from duty.

They travel together, the Knight wandering into battlefields and Nól tending to him after, and they develop a close bond as the Knight reexperiences companionship and struggles to clear his mind of the fog that muddles his memories throughout their journey.

Nól knows a lot about the land and people around, seemingly too much, and he somewhat guides the Knight from foe to foe to clear his mind, guiding him to those left that he knew in the past.

[hostradio]

“ are you… smelling me? ” @dark-ambition (Sir Pentious)

he  greets  the  question  with  a  slight  widening  of  his  ever-present  grin,  amusement  dancing  in  the  radio  demon's  eyes  —  equal  parts  bright  and  unapologetic.   ❝  am  i? ❞  he  speaks  slowly,  as  if  taking  his  time  to  carefully  savor  every  syllable.  then,  a  shrug.  ❝  well,  i  suppose  that  i  am! ❞  standing  up  straight,  alastor's  spine  seems  to  creak  unnaturally  like  an  old  microphone  speckled  with  rust.  being  the  subject  of  the  overlord's  attention  is  rarely  a  good  thing  —  or  so  he's  been  told  via  innumerable  complaints  from  his  miserable  feline  companion.  nonsense!  alastor  thinks  others  should  be  honored  that  he's  actually  bothering  to  give  them  the  time  of  day!  deer  attributes  aside,  the  manner  in  which  he  circles  the  snake  is  eerily  reminiscent  of  a  carnivore  eying  up  a  prospective  meal.

❝  don't  be  alarmed  —  i  was  only  reminiscing. ❞   the  reassurances  hardly  feel,  well  —  REASSURING.  that's  perfectly  fine;  alastor  doesn't  actually  care!  ❝  you  know,  my  mother  did  teach  me  a  number  of  recipes  starring  rattlesnake  that  i  have  been  itching  to  reexperience  —  but  can  be  so  difficult  to  come  by  down  here! ❞  not  for  a  lack  of  trying,  either.  he  IS  a  frequent  customer  of  the  local  butcher  shops!  ❝  i  doubt  your  flesh  would  taste  precisely  the  same  —  and in  my  experience,  sinner  does  come  tinged  with  an  unmistakable  undertone  of  ROT ... ❞   as  his  words  trail  off,  the  overlord's  gaze  briefly  flicks  to  sir  pentious'  tail.  ❝  although,  that  doesn't  stop  one  from  WONDERING! ❞

looking  up,  the  radio  demon  then  cants  his  head.  ❝  i  don't  suppose  you  would  be  willing  to  make  a  donation? ❞  it  will  grow  back  eventually!  what's  the  harm?

@dark-ambition

[worldrimwalker]

okay the thing about blaseball is I’ve already been in a constant state of mourning it.

Ever since watching the peanut boss battle alone on my couch screaming in chat on a Saturday night, since the pure manic joy of watching the grand unslam happen in real time, and to help name it and document it, since even the first few nights I watched in season two, throwing collaborative garbage on the wiki with wild abandon, watching sibr get formed, seeing joel exclaim in chat at what was like midnight LA time “THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SMALL GAME”— each of these moments felt so precious and singular and wonderful I was already mourning their loss as they happened.

The early days of the pandemic would probably be a depressed haze in my memory if it weren’t for these moments. Instead I remember that time of global worry and confusion and grief sprinkled and sparked with community and creativity and absurdity. Blaseball was /happening/ and vivid and alive when nothing else in the world was, and perhaps it was only ever meant to thrive in that environment. It demanded the kind of attention that only can be given if nothing else demands it.

What makes me especially sad, and always has, is that unlike a book or a movie or even another video game it’s not like we can go back and reexperience those moments. What made them special was that they were live and they were shared and they were a story we were telling together. Looking back at those moments is looking back at history, always in the past tense.

RIV blaseball, you did a great job.