#and sometimes the writer's part even

[the-witchhunter]

yeah, there were totally other considerations that factored into it, just like there were other considerations when it came to Superman and Conner. My point isn't Danny isn't a terrible father, my point is that the entire premise of the joke relies on one person who never took the time to process his clone situation talking down to someone who was taking the time to process his clone situation

this isn't me saying "oh look, actually Danny is the bad guy here" this is me saying it's complicated so it's weird to see him be on his high horse about it

And she did choose it, but also she has the life experience of basically a Toddler. She in no way should have made that choice for herself, and you can argue the "but she's older because clone" but she's still younger than the 14-15 yo she was cloned from. I say "let" as in he didn't stop her, and yeah, he shouldn't have been in a position to make that kind of decision either

So, please don't claim I'm looking at this in black and white, I never claimed Danny was a bad guy, this was entirely about the dead horse of a joke this fandom keeps beating

Why does DC hate Jason Todd so much??? He's literally Babey!!! 🥺

You probably aren’t me expecting to respond to this factually but fuck it here we go. Because he was a little rat fuck who replaced their favorite Robin character for a shitty carbon copy.

I wasn’t in the comic scene, or alive, when that happened in comics, but Jason originally was a carbon copy of Dick. He grew up in a circus, was in an acrobatic troupe called the Flying Todd’s, and his parents died by the hands of Two-Face.

The next Crisis had his backstory changed but the fans still viewed him as the bad Walmart version of Robin.

(For the readers:)He was a shitty replacement for Dick Grayson that had been Robin for so long and readers didn’t like the new guy taking over the role.

He doesn’t have a memorable Robin stand-alone series, he was uncharacteristically ruthless for a robin, he replaced Dick and didn’t have any of the Grayson charm that made Robin so loveable, he was arrogant at times and bashed in general. People wanted Dick. Not this other guy.

Nowadays why they hate him?

Simple and yet layered reason:

He went from a very wonderful villain in the comics and got later boiled down to an anti hero. Most people I know that dislike Jason now preferred his villain arc. I prefer it too honestly but if we didn’t have anti hero Jason, we wouldn’t have the interactions he has with the batfamily at all and I really enjoy those scenes in the comics.

His characterization is all over too. He goes from absolutely batshit insane in some comics to angsty ninja boy, to essentially a little bit feistier Ric Grayson (I’m so sorry it’s my take DC fans please don’t fight me).

Also, his death was a BIG thing in comics and him coming back ruined the meaning behind his death.

Back in the day there were three deaths in comics that always happened and never changed. They were deaths that grew other characters around them. Those three were:

- Bucky Barnes from Captain America

- Jason Todd from Batman

- Uncle Ben from Spider-Man

Their deaths hold major stepping stones to character arc changes and how the main character acted for the rest of the comics. They were always the main characters greatest tragedy and a core part of their lore.

Of course two of these are now changed. Bucky Barnes is back as the Winter Soldier and Jason is back as Red Hood.

But that death was sacred for a while. For 20 years he was dead. He was Batman’s greatest tragedy. You did not fuck with Batman’s greatest sorrow. And they did it after (incel) Superman Prime punched the universe so hard Jason Todd came back to life.

Additionally, lots of comic writers just don’t fucking want to deal with him. Same with Damian I feel like. They throw both under the bus because they’d rather be writing other characters.

Most of this is my observations but if anyone else has any other comments to add feel free.

[butterflysonnets]

yes i'm rooting for m*leven breakup because byler is neat but mostly? i'm rooting for m*leven breakup for the sake of el and mike.

to me, their romance was always a puppy love born out of a combination of social pressures, naïve curiosity, and a lack of true understanding regarding intimacy and romantic love and what it really is. it was real in that they do truly, deeply care about each other and they are close friends, maybe even shared an attraction, but a maturing romance is so much more than that. they've grown up and out of being boyfriend/girlfriend, and that's okay! i think television/film needs to show more often that most of us don't have definite "soulmates" or first childhood loves that we spend our whole lives with. it doesn't mean these relationships meant nothing and didn't impact us, it just means they've run their course and that something else is in the cards, and this is part of life!

i've always felt el was at her best and most confident self when broken up with mike, discovering who she was and what she liked alongside another girl her age instead of just relying on mike for mentorship on how to live in the real world. she deserves more of an opportunity to find herself, her autonomy, and her independence, and to love who she is, and she's made it clear she's felt insecure in the relationship with mike because she isn't being loved and understood the way she wants, needs, and deserves from someone who is her partner.

also, it's okay if mike doesn't love her in "the way he should". he is not obligated to love her romantically and stay in a relationship with her just because she's a girl, because she "needed someone", or because he cares about her a lot. he shouldn't be pressured into a romance if it's not truly coming from his heart. he deserves freedom to find out and honour who he is, too, instead of just staying in his non-functional first relationship — one he got into as a child, essentially — and defining himself that way because it's what's expected when a boy and a girl are close. he loves her in some way, yes, but it's okay if he doesn't feel comfortable or secure being her boyfriend anymore, for whatever reason that is. he's felt insecure too, and that's valid and it matters.

they are their own people and are steadily growing and changing every day. they need time to figure out who those people are, and it's become clear (at least in my opinion) that those people aren't meant to be a couple at this stage.

they deserve freedom. they deserve to grow up and be authentic to themselves and not feel like they need to lie for the sake of a relationship. they deserve to move on from this version of their relationship that isn't making them happy and rekindle the best part of their bond: their strong, beautiful friendship. they don't have to be a couple if it doesn't make them stronger and better and happier people.

i think it would be healthy and wonderful for a show, especially one consumed frequently by young adults, to show a relationship starting, progressing, and ending on good terms in this way. sometimes things don't work out, and that is okay.

[snipersfucker]

request from @infintyfandoms: Thought! Mirage is always so reckless, well what if one time he went too far and hurt his friend or s/o (either)?? I feel like he’d blame himself so bad - even if he was blind sighted by a distracted driver. Never drive crazy again or not drive around again or what??

angsty mirage x fem!reader times. thought of making it a headcanon thingy but nah. this one might need a warning that there are descriptions of serious injuries. and im also writing this on 0 hours of sleep thank you very much

A silver Porsche parked in front of the vinyl store you just walked out of was catching the attention of every passerby. Both men and women's eyes were stopping on the vehicle for a bit longer than they would on any regular car, their heads turning slightly to allow them to do that.

Mirage loved that. He loved transforming in different models everyday, the next one even more prestigious than the one before. Just to get that attention every single time.

You noticed a couple of teenage girls staring at your boyfriend, and even though you were fully aware they were doing so only because he was a good-looking car, you still rolled your eyes at it.

Your feet led you to the Porsche and you hopped in. Before getting the chance to point out the shameless staring of the group of teens, Mirage spoke up, "Whatcha got there?"

Your gaze had shifted to the vinyl case before you placed it down on the passenger's seat without much thought.

"Music," you responded casually in a light tone, putting your hands on the steering wheel, even though you knew Mirage would be doing the driving. "You got fans," you murmured under your breath but Mirage could obviously hear it. Your eyes landed on the girls again, and although you weren't particularly jealous, you still didn't appreciate it too much.

"Hell yeah, I do, baby," he said proudly, the grin in his voice palpable, even though you couldn't see it at the moment. And then, he added, a little bit more quietly as if he was saying this to the man who literally stopped in front of the car to admire him, "You wish you looked like that, huh?"

You let out an amused snort, and patted the gear stick with your palm to give him a sign to drive out of the parking lot. "C'mon."

"Let me honk at him," he'd asked for your permission seconds before doing it anyway without you allowing him to, causing the man to jump in his spot and then walk away. You just smacked the passenger's seat in disapproval, not even going on a rant about his behaviour because it was a daily occurrence for Mirage to do whatever he wanted.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, offended by your sudden reaction, as if he wasn't used to it, "I'm all for violence unless it's directed towards me," he muttered, sounding like an annoyed child. Then, without any warning, he revved the engine and drove out of the parking lot onto the main road. You only rolled your eyes without a word but then, you noticed how fast he was passing all the other cars in his lane, which he would usually cuss out for being slow, as if their owners weren't driving under the speed limit for safety reasons.

"Mirage…" you warned him, using his full name instead of a nickname, which he did not appreciate but decided not to speak on it and just change the topic.

"Jus' tell me it's not George Michael," he said with a short sigh, as if it was very important to him that it, in fact, was not George Michael.

"Mirage..." you warned him once again, ignoring his words, gripping the steering wheel with much more force now to hopefully get him to slow down.

"Nope," he said simply, understanding what you meant without you even having to say it. If he was in his humanoid form, he'd probably cross his arms on his chest and shake his head with that signature smirk indicating that he knew he was in control of the situation. "That's what you get for hitting your poor boy," he added, sounding very content with himself, revving the engine once more just to show you that he, in fact, was not planning on slowing down.

You scoffed. "You deserved it."

"For what?" he began talking in that specific, overly innocent tone, and you just knew he was going to say something sarcastic that would only annoy you even more, "For being so cute and funny?" He asked rhetorically, as if he wasn't aware that he really needn't have honked at that man, and then drive as recklessly as he normally would when you weren't inside him.

But he was very much aware. It was just that his pride didn't allow him to apologise.

"For being a little shit." You decided not to banter with him as per usual, but just to get straight to the point. Even though you were possibly risking starting an argument between you two, you just needed to reprimend him at the moment, especially now that you noticed how nonchalant he was about it.

"Ouch," he pretended to be hurt by what you just said. And although he wasn't actually offended, he still wasn't really in the mood to let you win.

So he sped up even more.

Noticing the opportunity presented right in front of him, the almost empty road ahead of you two, he floored the gas pedal, making you let out a short, quiet noise at the impact in which you got pushed back into the seat.

"What the fuck are you doing?" you asked him with anger in your voice, not raising it just yet, and not actually expecting a response. But you got one anyway:

"Takin' you on a ride date, baby," he answered sarcastically, his overly sweet tone making him sound even more annoying than before.

"Mirage, I—"

If he wasn't as sure in his abilities as he was, he'd never drive over three times faster than the speed limit allowed, never wanting to actually risk you getting hurt in any way.

And it wasn't even his fault, when a sport's car drove right into his left side, before you could even finish your sentence.

It wasn't his fault that the car ran a red light, that it was supposed to stop and wait for him to just drive away without getting thrown to the right by the impact.

It wasn't his fault that he was now rolling over for the fifth time, his roof and sides hitting the hard asphalt every single time.

You weren't even making any noises anymore so that he would know that you were with him, conscious, alive. He ignored the sound of his glass shattering, his metal body getting scratched, bent and painfully ruined, just to be able to hear your breath.

The other car was in a much worse condition, but he didn't care. The only thing occupying his mind was you, your heartbeat he would do anything to hear again. He needed to make sure you were still there.

He felt it all. He felt the pain that came with getting drove into by another car, with flipping over with unimaginable speed and force. But he needed to make sure you were alright.

And he couldn't even do anything to stop his worst nightmare from beginning to play right in front of his very optics.

Then, after a few moments that felt like hours to him, everything finally came to an end. The hiss coming out of him was still hearable, the hot steam, the liquid pouring out of his fual lines threatened to mix with the flames growing with every passing second. But it was finally quiet; no noise of metal hitting the asphalt distracted him from listening to your body.

His spark nearly exploded with relief when he heard the faint sound of your heartbeat. He wanted to transform, to be able to hold you, to get you out of him so that his bent roof wouldn't be pressing against your wounded head.

When people began to gather up around him, he realised he had a decision to make: to transform and risk getting hunted down just like it happened to Bumblebee, or to stay there and pray to Primus, pray to the people now surrounding him that they'd help you and make sure you were okay.

He wanted to scream at them to hurry up, to get you out, to make that heartbeat of yours sound more promising. To let him know that you weren't going to—

The idea of losing you forever crossed his mind for a split second before he could even stop it.

And it was his fault that he was going a lot over the speed limit, too distracted by the need to tease you, to win the argument, and show you that you had nothing to say in the way he was behaving.

It was his fault that there was crimson running down your forehead, the drops rolling past the hairs of your eyebrows, all the way down to your jaw, then staining your shirt with your own blood.

It was his fault that your body felt lifeless against his ruined upholstery, the only motion it was making was an almost undetectable rise of your chest every couple of seconds.

His train of thoughts got interrupted by the distant sound of sirens getting closer and closer to him. The people were talking, someone was yelling, it all making an irritating mixture of human noises he didn't need to hear at the moment.

Mirage felt his left door being opened or rather being torn out of him in a couple painful motions. He didn't care.

He just wanted them to take you away from him.

When he no longer felt your weight on his driver's seat, he almost let a sound of relief through his radio, but just now noticed that it's been ruined, making it impossible for him to do so. He hadn't paid attention to it earlier, too stunned to be able to say anything to you, even though your name and endless questions if you were okay wanted to escape him.

Cold liquid hit his hot metal body, the lower temperature of it somewhat helping him get in a clearer state of mind. Even though he felt deserving of being on fire, he appreciated the slight relief it gave him.

Somebody placed you on a stretcher, put you carefully in another vehicle, and then closed the door. He couldn't see you anymore but was sure the humans would take good care of you. Better care than he was able to offer.

The loud sirens hit his audio receptors before he registered the ambulance leaving the crash site.

And the sound was still bouncing against the interior walls of his helm every single day since the accident. The imagine of your limp body, his steering wheel covered in your blood, your head pressed uncomfortably against the remains of his left window...

Two whole weeks passed and he couldn't think of anything else but you. You in that horrible state he put you in himself.

The guilt was eating him alive, and even though he'd make Noah visit you everyday in the hospital to make sure your condiction was stable, he still couldn't help but beat himself up and be worried sick.

"Concussion, five broken ribs, broken arm and nose, and she was fucking bleeding from her liver, man," your mutual friend told him after leaving the hospital for the first time, after the doctors allowed anybody to visit you, even though you weren't conscious yet.

It affected Noah nearly as much as it did the robot. The only difference was that the human had no reason to blame himself for it, because it wasn't his recklessness that nearly killed you.

Mirage fell silent.

He got quiet, very quiet, unusually for him. Every Autobot he used to hang out with knew what happened, how much you meant to him, and how affected he was by the accident. They noticed the sudden shift in his behaviour, the once bubbly personality disappearing just so he could dwell in guilt in peace.

The thing that bothered him a lot among others was that he couldn't see you. He couldn't walk into the hospital you were being taken care of in. He couldn't sit next to you and tell you how painfully sorry he was for doing it to you, for putting you in danger, for hurting you so much your pain radiated off you body and made him feel it, too.

Noah insisted on repairing him, and he agreed purely because then he'd be able to park in front of the hospital to be as near you as possible.

But he was a wreck, both physically and emotionally.

And it still didn't change when you finally got discharged. He was not the one to pick you up from the hospital, it was Noah and Bee. He couldn't face you.

You asked about him when you woke up from the coma, your friend sitting next to you on the uncomfortable hospital chair only shrugging in response, telling you he didn't know anything about Mirage, where he was or how he was.

It was a lie. The robot was spending his time either in the garage, getting fixed by his only human friend, or out on the road, hoping that maybe, just maybe someone would crash into him again, making him feel that pain again. That pain he thought he deserved for harming you.

And when you insisted on Noah taking you to the garage to see him, after getting the information about his location out of the poor human, Mirage couldn't help but feel even worse than before.

You were alive, of course you were alive, but he also did notice the way you winced with every step, how dull the colour of your skin was compared to the times before the accident, how fragile you looked, standing there in front of him with Noah not leaving your side in case you'd collapse onto the floor.

You were alive, but also in so much pain he couldn't even look at you without feeling a strong sting in his spark.

His optics shifted to Noah in an instant, as if he was trying to bash him for taking you here, which he responded to out loud with his hands raised in a defensive gesture, "She threatened me."

You didn't even know what you were feeling at that moment. A mixture of sadness, annoyance, impatience, and hurt made you unable to say anything, forcing you to just stand there in silence. Suddenly, a short wave of pain washed over your right side, making you grimace and put your only free palm on the area surrounding your liver.

As soon as Mirage noticed your movement, he made an involuntary step towards you, his servos extended in your direction, as if he was trying to both comfort you and catch you if you were to fall.

Noah immediately asked, "You okay?" His eyes shifting between your hand on your side and your pained face. You just nodded.

Uncomfortable silence fell between the three of you, and the other human was close to replacing it with whistling just so that he wouldn't have to stand there awkwardly without a word.

"Imma just leave you two, yeah?" He scratched the back of his neck, his feet already leading him in the direction of the exit. "Jus'... scream if you die or somethin'..." he added, the awkwardness making him joke about things he normally wouldn't joke about.

And then, he left. He left poor Mirage with even poorer you. Alone.

You let out a grunt, making your way to the nearest chair to sit down. He was ready to help you with everything, but he didn't know if you even wanted him to, so he just stayed in his spot.

"You look bad," you commented, lazily motioning to his beaten-up body with your hand. The raspiness, the weakness in your voice almost made him drop to his knees.

He responded unsurely after a pause, a forced, unamused smirk on his face plate, "...You should see the other guy."

It was awkward. Awkward as never before, you two having always found it pretty easy to communicate with each other. But now... Now he couldn't help but feel that unpleasant feeling in his tank when you spoke up and made him say something back to you.

And it was his fault.

Your reaction to his little joke wasn't something you could control. A short, quiet chuckle left your mouth, causing you to grab your right side even more tightly and a wince of pain on your face to deepen.

She can't even laugh.

He felt so excruciatingly bad he had to fight himself not to transform into a car and just drive away.

You wanted to tell him that you've been told the other driver didn't make it. But you knew the war it would start in his mind if you shared that information with him, so you stayed silent.

"You look terrible," he muttered after a few moments of observing your body, as if to himself to comment on the damage he'd done.

You snorted, shaking your head in amusement. "That's exactly what every woman likes to hear," you responded, deciding that a little banter would be better than sitting without any words being exchanged.

Mirage's eyes widened slightly as he took a step towards you, his servos up in the air again in a specific gesture that indicated that he didn't actually mean it like that.

He had this tendency to make things worse with his words, and normally it wouldn't bother him at all, but this time it was you. He didn't want to make thing worse with you.

"No, no, you're pretty. Gorgeous, in my humble opinion. Walking perfection even," he wanted to correct himself, spurting word after word just to show you that he didn't want you to be mad at him. "Geez, I'm sorry," he added, bringing his servos to his face plate to cover it in... embarrassment.

Something new for him.

You shook your head, looking up at him with a small smile. "I do look kinda ter—"

Before you could finish your sentence, he said with much more confidence now, "...For everything."

He rarely apologised.

But you deserved to hear it. Even if you weren't ready to forgive him just yet, even if you were to never forgive him, he just needed you to know that he regretted it.

You frowned, opening your mouth to say something, but he interrupted you again, "Maybe I shouldn't have be the fastest car in Brooklyn that day. Maybe I should've listened to you and not be a little shit," he recalled the way you called him these few weeks ago, just minutes before the accident. With determination in his tone, he continued, "You can hate me, I can take it." But then, he changed his mind as soon as he realised he would prefer if you didn't hate him, "Actually. Hate me for the next three days at max. Please. If you don't want me to rip my vents out."

You snorted weakly once more, the movement of your body making you wince in pain again.

He finally found enough courage within himself to get closer to you. With a couple of steps, he kneeled down in front of you and extended one of his servos in your direction, as if non-verbally telling you to stop laughing and not cause yourself even more pain.

"'m sorry," he whispered his apology again, the sincere look in his optics showing you just how much he cared for you.

"It wasn't y—"

"It was," he interrupted you in a much more serious tone, but it was still filled with softness, "I was stupid..."

"Nothing new," you managed to blurt out before closing your eyes shut and grunting, a grimace on your face as you felt another sting of pain, which you were kind of used to now.

You opened your eyes and looked up at his worried optics observing your every move, his servos desperately wanting to touch and help you but he knew it'd only make things worse due to his size.

You let out a short chuckle at your own joke as soon as your body allowed you to.

"Not funny," he reprimanded you with a serious face, not finding your apparent discomfort amusing at all, even though he agreed with your words.

"You were just making jokes ab—"

"So?"

You rolled your eyes at him. "Child," you insulted him, fully aware how much he hated being called out on his childishness.

"I'm older than your cute little Earth, please," he scoffed.

"No, you're not," you deadpanned.

"...So?"

"I hate you," you said, although a small smile on your lips betrayed you.

"That's the spirit," he sighed but the corners of his lips curled up as well. A beat of silence passed and his gaze went back to your face, "I meant that."

You frowned slightly.

"I am sorry. For being the..." he was about to say something that would hurt his pride and ego, but decided it was worth it, "...the dumbest machine there is. Even a hairdryer is smarter than me," he insulted himself, hoping the sacrifice would make you like him again.

"You're right." You nodded, fighting back a chuckle.

He raised his arms in a playfully offended, confused gesture. "You could at least disagree, damn."

You shook your head in amusement.

After another beat of silence, he said seriously, "You're never coming inside me again."

"Wow."

"Should've worded it better, yeah..." he trailed off, "Primus, woman, give me a break." He let out a small laugh when he noticed your amused reaction to his sentence. "No, seriously... I... You're my girl, yeah? Don't want you to... You know, be in pain."

Why did he have to be so awkward about his feelings? Now that he finally had the chance to show you how much he loved you and never wanted to see you hurt again.

"I still have your..." he wanted to say that he still had your blood on some of his parts that didn't want to come off, but then decided it wasn't the best time to tell you that, "I almost lost my mind when I couldn't hear you," he confessed, his tone regaining its sincerity, the look in his optics describing his guilt to you without words.

He was referring to the moment he was so desperately trying to silence everything around him just to be able to find your heartbeat.

"I'm okay..." Your tone was soft, quiet, as if you were trying not to scare a lost, disoriented puppy.

"You're not okay," he disagreed with a slightly clenched jaw, angry at himself, not even for a second at you, "You..." He lowered himself so that he'd be able to whisper to you, as if saying these words more loudly would make them come true someday, "You almost died... I almost killed you..."

His face panel was close enough to your body for you to put your hand against his warm, metal cheek. Mirage immediately melted at the touch, his optics closing slowly just to allow him to savour the softness of your palm as much as he could.

"It wasn't your fault..." you started your monologue, this time the robot allowing you to continue, "I didn't die. I might have a broken bone or two..." He opened his eyes at this sentence, giving you a sad look. "...But I'll be alright. I didn't die," you repeated, which gained you an unsure nod from your boyfriend, who was now avoiding making eye contact with you.

You didn't force him to look up at you.

"I promise..." he trailed off, not wanting to show you how weak he felt, "I promise I'll never do that again..." His gaze went back to meet yours as you smiled softly, your eyes filled with love you had for him. "I'll never be dumber than a hairdryer, you have my unreliable word. And I'll never argue with you. I'll just say that I'm sorry, and that my woman is always right, and I'll shut up for as long as you want me to. And I... I'll never drive over twenty-five. Yeah, it hurts. But guess what hurts more. Seeing you with a broken bone or two."

Joking might've been the only way he would be able to overcome the sorrow he felt within himself. But it worked both for you and him. You really wouldn't have it any other way.

"Tell me," you whispered with a slight head tilt, slowly closing the gap between your faces.

He frowned, not understanding what you meant by that, but then the small smirk on your lips explained it to him.

He rolled his optics, the remains of guilt still evident in them, although with every passing second and every joke, they seemed to disappear bit by bit.

"'m sorry. My woman is always right," he repeated himself, pretending to find it very boring, as if he didn't really want to admit that. But he did. He did want you to know that he meant every single thing that rolled off his glossa.

Your smile widened immediately, your eyes closing as you minimized the gap between your and Mirage's lips completely.

And then, after long weeks of not being able to forgive himself for hurting the only woman he loved, he was finally able to feel relief.

[bi-dykes]

“What do you mean there’s still so much biphobia in fan spaces? Bisexuals are like some of the most popular characters!”

Yeah, and they either get treated like this:

Or like this:

“Biphobia isn’t real” neither are your braincells

[laurrelise]

once again rambling about five and lila because i’m fucking pissed. enjoy

“five and lila were perfect for each other because they had so much in common” yet so many perfect couples have absolutely nothing in common???

they could relate to each other in ways that made them hate each other and that’s why they were SUCH good foil characters, i don’t understand why the romance had to be necessary.

there is absolutely no reason that this romance plotline should’ve been created. it was so ridiculously off-focus from what the plot was (AND should have been) and it literally only made the season so much worse.

do writers understand that not every single character has to fall in love with one another? i mean genuinely?

personally i don’t believe five is aro (though he could be ace) because i can’t help but love five’s love for delores (even if she wasn’t real) but i completely understand five aroace truthers because he truly can be independent romantically as we saw in the show.

i cannot wrap my fucking head around the fact that the writers saw two awesome, dynamic, badass characters with arcs and goals outside of love and attention and decided to turn their personalities inside out and upside down for a dumbass dead-end romance that makes zero sense.

five and lila were the only two people on god’s green earth who could understand each other and hated the other for it. why couldn’t they just be frenemies and call it a day?

god fucking damn it i’m so upset

shoutout to 13 year old 58 year old five hating lila and 29 year old lila despising the fuck out of little five !!! <3

fuck you to the worst, most nonsensical couple of all time and space ❌❌

[soaps-mohawk]

When it comes to kneeling, with the first kneel was reader on the floor and then Price in a chair? Then second kneel session they were both kneeling?? I like when authors describe the actual positions of the characters but I think I got a little confused 😅 I was trying to figure out the positioning just so I could make more sense of the scene. If you know what I mean?

I get what you mean!! I'm so bad at remembering to describe things like this properly too 😭

So in both instances Price was sitting and reader was kneeling on the floor next to him. To give the clearest visual, Price was sitting facing his desk, and reader was kneeling right next to him on the floor beside his chair also facing the desk. Price only drops down to kneel next to her once they're done, mostly just because reader's kind of boneless and has very little control in those moments and he's not going to let her fall and hurt herself.

I hope that clears it up lol.

[erabundus]

HAPPY BLOG ANNIVERSARY!

it's  officially  midnight  here,  which  means  i'm  allowed  to  post  this!  so ...  happy  one  year  anniversary  of  enduring  the  plague  of  avalon  upon  your  dashboards!  alternatively,  thank  you  so  much  for  giving  me  a  place  to  babble  about  my  #1  favorite  comfort  character  who  has  experienced  zero  comfort.  (  i  swear  i  am  being  SO  NORMAL  about  this.  yes i did literally buy  cake  and  party  hats.  )  whether  we  speak  on  the  daily,  you've  just  gotten  here  or  anywhere  in  between,  i  want  to  extend  my  sincerest  gratitude  for  being  on  this  absolutely  wild  ride  of  a  blog  with  me.  there's  been  ups  and  downs,  but  ultimately  i  feel  like  my  passion  for  writing  has  been  ignited  stronger  than  it's  ever  been  before.  i  am  still  always  so  excited  whenever  i  get  the  chance  to  log  on  here  and  create  stories  with  all  of  you  —  and  i  wouldn't  have  that  opportunity  if  it  wasn't  for  this little  corner  of  the  internet  you've  helped  make truly special.

there  are  so  many  of  you  i  feel  lucky  to  have  met.  (  and  so  many  i  would  love  to  get  to  know  better,  too!  )  i  hope  we  can  continue  writing  together  for  many  more  anniversaries  to  come.  and  if  the  day  ever  comes  that  they  finally  pull  the  plug  on  this  cockroach  of  a  hellsite,  i'll  forever remember  this  community  as  the  rpc  that  got me to  laugh  at  petrichor.

have  a  wonderful  day  /  night!  i'm  sharing  the  cake  with  everyone  in  spirit.

[fionnaskyborn]

People like this have made me terrified that I am mischaracterizing my favorite character by playing into his strengths and emphasizing them so much... That I'm making things "too anime", "too over-the-top", and by doing that straying away from the groundedness that made the character compelling in the first place... But I think it's better to be a fan who loves someone so much they're willing to step into goofy over-the-top showcases of strength and morals out of love than being a fake fan who only ever rags on what they proclaim is so dear to them. I dunno. I don't think I'm wrong in saying that. I'm hella insecure when it comes to my own writing, especially with this guy because I want to do him as much justice as I possibly can as a writer. But I have to convince myself that it's not too much.

[milkyspine]

[wriokitty]

Honestly I’m usually impressed more with the way a reader is characterized than the character themselves

[xiii-e]

//ooc posting: I NEED to find more fun/silly things to do with my two they are Not meant to be all agony all the time I swear- I just have a penchant for the dramatic and they're a little in the torment nexus o(-< but on god they will Have Fun too

[velvetjune]

one of my main takeaways from the alan wake games is that alan/alice/barry should exist and they all love each other so much.

[wistfulwatcher]

i've been trying to stay positive about yjs all season because i desperately wanted to keep loving it but after last night's ep i just cannot pretend it's well-written anymore. that was the most nothing, poorly-paced episode i think we've gotten, at least for an ep that should be a CRUCIAL turning point. there was virtually zero exploration of the worst choice the teens make in 96 (the ritual discussion should have been a fucking bottle episode, tbh, with all that should have gone into it), and too much time spent recapping what we already knew in 21 (without it actually meaning anything/changing the characters when they learned). oof. just truly disappointing tbh.

[mihai-florescu]

The relationship between author characters and audience interests me... how characters gain a life of their own and to some extent agency in their writer's head, how a story needs an audience to be told, how retelling changes it, and as much as i dislike fandom as a whole, i do appreciate the idea of taking characters and putting them in new scenarios, or changing them into ocs and giving them a new story altogether... everything is inspired by other things isnt it, every story reflects humanity in a way, it's part of human nature to want to tell a story too. Ah initially i wanted to make this post to say i think this very reality of characters being different in everyone's heads causes problems sometimes... i wish i knew what others thought and what the authorial intention was. I dont like that i can only perceive things as myself even if im such a faithful spectator, i will never understand things like someone else. And that also makes me so scared of sharing things. Ive told you before im an overbearing mother killing her babies early, before they can even develop a life of their own, by wrapping them in tight cloth to stay warm and safe; i couldnt stand someone with impure eyes looking at them. What to do what to do...

[bi-panic-at-the-disco]

I like how whenever I watch AstralSpiff or Backseat play a new Poppy Chapter it’s pretty clear what game that they devs had been playing before hand lmao,, Chapter 4 being very clearly referencing to the Resident Evil 4 underground factory insect fights with how it was framed

[thatlovelydove]

i. dont. CARE! if they're a cop in canon in my heart of HEARTS i know theyd rather die than be one!!!!