#any way enjoy

[the-lesbian-of-too-many-fandoms]

SAD ASS IEYTD FIC

Phoenix watched as all three of the briefcase’s buttons turned blue, they pressed the button, only to be met with dread

There wasn’t enough power.

“No.. no! It can’t be!” Their handler said.

they looked all over the room, time was running out and lives where on the line. Their eyes landed on The only thing that could power the case.

The car battery, that was also the only thing keeping the elevator they were in from plummeting 32 floors with no emergency breaks.

They had just under 30 seconds left before the nukes would launch. It was the only way.

Their handler, seeing their eyes gaze upon the battery immediately knew what they were about to do.

“But agent! If you do that you’ll- you’ll fall to your death!” He said voice cracking with emotion

20 seconds till launch

It took only a moment of hesitation before they reached for the clamps powering the elevator.

10 seconds till launch

“NO! Agent! There must be another way!” Their handler screamed

They kept going as they moved the red clamp and hooked on the case.

5 seconds left till launch

“AGENT! AGENT NO!” Their handler begged

3 seconds till launch

“PHOENIX!”

They clipped the black wire quickly pressed the button, before feeling their stomach drop.

Everything slowed down, they were floating in the small elevator watching as the floors passed them by.

They did it, they saved… the world

It was one of those moments that didn’t feel real, there was no time to process, there was only the fall.

In the agency, they would teach you not to focus on saving the world, but to think about one person. One person you care about, and focus on saving them.

Phoenix didn’t have anyone they cared about. They had no relatives no friends, no partners. So that strategy didn’t work for them.

At least that’s what they thought.

But in this state of limbo, between them, and the ground, one person, came into their mind.

Their handler. He was always there, he was the one constant in their life they could always trust would be there.

And as the distance between them and death became shorter. They thought about how much he actually, cared about them.

He always was there to support, and he was always there to listen. he would always bring a custom cupcake and a glass of champagne to their desk after every mission. How his voice was always there grounding them even in the most dangerous traps.

In fact they think the most scared they’ve been in their life was when they were separated from each other by juniper’s kidnapping. And how relieved they were when he finally found them again.

I guess they finally found that one person.

They didn’t want to die. They knew one day, this job, it was going to kill them. It nearly did already.

But maybe if their handler was safe, then everything was going to be oka-

The end

Reginald’s pov

This was it. He was on the edge of his seat, all they had to do was disarm the nukes. They watched as his agents frantic eyes glossed over the timer. They were panicking.

“Never mind that agent, you’ve got this” he said more to himself than anyone else. Reginald was holding his breath watching as all the lights turned blue.

But it didn’t work. The button was pressed but the briefcase didn’t have enough power left to stop the launch.

“No.. no that can’t be it!” He said

In the back of his mind Reginald knew what his agent only had one option, but he couldn’t accept that. He wouldn’t, not again.

Agent Phoenix though, looked at the battery knew what they had to do.

“But agent if you do that you’ll- you’ll fall to your death!” This wasn’t happening, not again. The kid didn’t deserve this. No one did, but least of all the kid.

It was too late. they watched helplessly as Phoenix reached for the wires, hands shaking.

“No Agent! There must be another way!” The clock was ticking down, with only seconds left. His agent wasn’t stopping. They were going to die.

He watched as they hooked up the last wire

“NO! AGENT NO!” They begged

He saw their agent in the reflection, they had tears down their eyes and.. and they were scared.

“PHEONIX!”

he could only watch as his agent pushed the button…

And dropped

and he watched as the zoraxis headquarters was destroyed in a blast that could level out an entire city.

He watched as the feed cut out and left him staring at his own reflection through the empty monitor.

As haunting sound of static hummed through his headset.

Phoenix was dead.

Not missing, or kidnapped.

Dead.

That was when he finally registered the loud cheers that had erupted in the office, other handlers celebrated another victory.

He felt something wet fall on his hand.

Tears.

When did he start crying?

It was at that moment he realized why this was so hard, after all this wasn’t the first time he had lost an agent.

It’s just that this time, he broke the first rule you learn at the agency.

Never. get attached.

Your agent will die.

You won’t be able to save them.

and if you get attached, it will be your fault.

Attachment makes you emotional, and emotions make you dangerous.

After all, if Your mind is your greatest strength.

Then your heart is your worst enemy.

[foursthemagicknumber]

When i woke up this morning i could have sworn the little lights spelled “say stop today”

When i was brushing my hair i heard my mom reaching and i thought she was puking

When i sit on the bus i thought the clicks where trying to tell me secrets

When you look at me with that small glance i think my heart skips a few beats

I don’t know why i think this… none of it is real, but it feels real in my head.

It’s not like I see things or hear things my visions just blurry and my hearings just shit

But my mind likes to fill in the blanks with more color than in reality

[druid-for-hire]

[image id: a four-page comic. it is titled "immortality” after the poem by clare harner (more popularly known as “do not stand at my grave and weep”). the first page shows paleontologists digging up fossils at a dig. it reads, “do not stand at my grave and weep. i am not there. i do not sleep.” page two features several prehistoric creatures living in the wild. not featured but notable, each have modern descendants: horses, cetaceans, horsetail plants, and crocodilians. it reads, “i am a thousand winds that blow. i am the diamond glints on snow. i am the sunlight on ripened grain. i am the gentle autumn rain.” the third page shows archaeopteryx in the treetops and the skies, then a modern museum-goer reading the placard on a fossil display. it reads, “when you awaken in the morning’s hush, i am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight. i am the soft stars that shine at night. do not stand at my grave and cry.” the fourth page shows a chicken in a field. it reads, “i am not there. i did not die” / end id]

a comic i made in about 15 hours for my school’s comic anthology. the theme was “evolution”

[valtsv]

this is entirely petty and personal but i cannot stand the word "whump" it's like unalive to me. just say you enjoy torturing your favourite character so that you can nurse them back to health again like a sickly baby bird they're not real it's okay.

[wanologic]

designed to view a world unseen

[aethersea]

I do think Blazing Saddles handled its one depiction of native americans very poorly, and the full extent of its representation of chinese workers on the railroad is they were literally just there. not even one single speaking line. unclear if this is worse or better than the redface.

it's fucking phenomenal at lampooning antiblack racism though. extremely blatant, extremely funny satire, which is constantly and loudly saying "racism is the philosophy of the terminally stupid at best and morally depraved at worst, and we should all be pointing and laughing at them 24/7"

plus the main character is a heroic black man who has to navigate a whole lot of bullshit but is constantly smirking at the extraordinarily stupid racists and inviting the audience into the joke. the one heroic white character is a guy who was suicidally depressed until he met the protagonist and they just instantly became buds, and he's firmly in a supporting role the whole time and happy to be there. the protagonist saves the day with the help of his black friends from the railroad, and uses the position of power he was given to uplift not only those friends, but all the railroad workers of other minorities too, in an explicit show of solidarity.

anyone saying "Blazing Saddles is racist" had better be talking about its treatment of non-black minorities. it had better not be such superficial takes as "oh but they say the n-word all the time" or "they have nazis and the kkk in there!" because goddamn if that's the full extent of your critique I very seriously suggest you read up on media analysis. there is too much going over your head, you need to learn to recognize satire.

[wardingshout]

Zelda goes mushroom girl

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

At your side [End of Season 2]

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[picturemecountingcards]

could only express this in green text format, bear with me

> be me

> in english class

> some guy delivers a meandering nihilistic monologue about how we're all just apes and our only purpose is reproducing, eating, dying and rotting (direct quote) that only vaguely pertains to the question he's being asked

> turn around to look at him

> see his laptop

> it's covered in southpark stickers

[butchvamp]

veilguard is maddeningly racist and we have got to have this conversation outside of "fantasy racism" terms. we are not talking about fantasy elves. it is anti-indigenous racism, the elves are intentionally indigenous coded as previously stated by Gaider (and it honestly doesn't matter if it's been "confirmed," it is obviously true, no matter what Weekes tries to argue now) and insinuating that your indigenous coded characters 1. are deserving of their oppression, 2. are in any way responsible for it, 3. should feel guilty about it, 4. are foolish and dangerous for wanting to reconnect with and preserve their history, and 5. are "stuck in the past" and "too traditional," (why don't they just assimilate already?) are all insidious, racist ideas that this game perpetuates. and there is very little pushback from the narrative that the player can engage in, which is what a lot of the criticism is discussing. we're not talking about "fantasy racism" or fantasy slurs, we are talking about the real world racism this game is perpetuating.

[inkskinned]

before you know about women, you hear that you do not need to love the man, just that you need to love him through his manhood. which is to say you have seen the future painted in lamb's blood over your eyes - how your mother shoots you a look about your father's inability to cook right. how your aunt holds her wineglass and says i'm gonna kill em. men, right! how your best friend bickers with her boyfriend, how she says i can't help it. i come back to him.

you learn: men are gonna cheat. men aren't going to listen when you're talking, because you're nagging. men think emotions are stupid. they think your life is vapid and your hobbies are embarrassing. men will slam things, but that's because men are allowed to be angry. if you get loud, you're hysterical. if a man gets loud - well, men are animals, men are dogs, men can't control their hands or their eyes or their bodies. they're going to make a snide comment about you in the locker room, about your body, about how you're so fucking annoying. you're going to give him kids, and he will give you the money for the kids, and you're going to be running the house 24/7 - but he gets to relax after a long day, because his job is stressful. the man is on stage, and is a comedian, and says "women!"

and you are supposed to love that. you are supposed to love men through how horrible they are to you - because that's what women do. that's what good women do. wife material. your father even told you once - it'll make sense when you're older. it was like staring down a very lonely tunnel.

it feels like something's caught in your throat, but it's all you know, so. it's okay that you see sex as a necessary tool, a sort of okay-enough ritual to keep him happy, even though he doesn't seem to care about happiness as-applied-to you. it is relationship upkeep. it is kissing him and smiling even though he didn't brush his teeth. it is getting on your knees and looking up and holding back a sigh because he barely holds you as you panic through the night. it's not like the sex is bad and you do like feeling wanted. and besides! he's a man! like... they're another species. you'll never be able to actually communicate, right. he isn't listening.

you just don't get it. you don't feel that sense of i'm gonna climb him like a tree. mostly it just feels fucking exhausting. you play the part perfectly. you smile and nod and are "effortlessly" charming. and it's fine! it's alright! you even love him, if you're looking. you could have good life, and a good family, and perfectly happy.

in the late night you google: am i broken. you google i'm not attracted to my husband. you google i get turned on by books but not by him. you google how to get better in bed.

the first time he yells at you, it almost feels like blankness. like - of course this is happening. this is always how it was going to end up. men get angry, and they yell, and you sit there in silence.

you mention it to your friend - just the once - while you're drunk. she shrugs and says it's like that with me too, i just try to forget and move on. men are always gonna hear what they want to. pick your battles and say sorry even though he's in the wrong. you play solitaire online for a month. you go to your therapist appointment and preach about how you're both so in love.

after all, you have a future to want. nobody lied about it - how many instagram posts say marriage is hard. say real love takes work. say we fight like cats and dogs but the best part is that we always make up. how many of your friends say happy anniversary to the best and worst thing to ever happen to me. if you really loved him - loved yourself too - you'd accept that men are just different from you.

the first time she kisses you, it's on a dare at a party. something large and terrifying whips through your body. you wake up sweating from dreams where her mouth is encrusted with pearls and you pick them off one by one with your teeth. fuck. you sit at the computer and your almost-finished game of sim city. you think about your potential perfect life and your potential future family. you google am i gay quiz with your little hands shaking.

you delete each letter slowly. you don't need to love him. you just need to keep going.

[gammija]

tiefling jon's first day at the Archives

[fascinationstreetmp3]

i need daniel to be overcompensating for his insecurities so bad. 100 times more cocky and rude and aggressive and insensitive than he was as a human, falling back into old dangerous habits and vices, not just because now he has new energy and power and wealth to flaunt but because it's ALL he has, and he needs to cling onto it. play it up and revel in it so no one sees that underneath, he feels like a botched fledgling in the body of a sick, faded old man who maybe has no real idea why he was even made. that armand might think he failed in making him. that his maker didn't even really want him.

[myoonmii]

He watches him like a ghost

[skecherss]

Maybe it's the eternally distrustful loveless child in me but idk something about the way DC has been writing familial relationships in recent years rings so false to me. There's no room for the complex, nuanced, unnamed relationships Batman and Nightwing used to have, nothing like the warped mother-daughter-sister thing Barbara Gordon and Cass Cain had, nothing like Superboy's weird obsessive hero worship/bone-deep dread of his clone fathers or Max Mercury's weary undefined protectiveness of Bart or Wonder Woman's dogged loyalty to her little "sisters". Cause — for me, at least, I know I actively seek little moments of connection in stories; when I write or when I read it is to seek comfort. I think that's why DC has made this shift. Readers like me gravitated to those little warm moments, and DC noticed that we did without stopping to think about why.

But there's a point at which I notice diminishing returns of comfort from fluffy writing — it ceases to register as real. It's too good, too saccharine, too empty of any of the pain and frustration it takes to express genuine love for the other person. It's all hand-holding and no sweaty palms. It's so easy for someone to say they love you. It's so easy to see when it's all just words. And part of this is, yeah, bad writing; all that stuff about show not tell. They're trying to tell us these characters care about each other without giving us any real proof. but. idk. I need my love to be real. I need to feel the bones behind each embrace. I can't accept affection without struggling my way into it. Honestly I'd rather get a grim gritty Batman who forgets he HAS kids until they throw themselves into the line of fire than a milquetoast helicopter Batdad who tells his kids exactly what they mean to him without actively being in a state of bleeding out.

[little-pup-pip]

Happy October!!