#anything that is is through different blogs

[peachsayshi]

// brutally soft // II. 

baby daddy!sukuna x reader 

tags: non curse au; fluff; tension; reader and sukuna are co-parents; girl dad sukuna; mentions troubled past with sukuna; alludes to significant size different; sukuna being extremely soft | wc: x | read this for more context & this

note: you and sukuna attend your daughter's winter performance at school

dni if your blog is blank / ageless / or are a minor

your lips part, eyes widening as the crisp air stings the tip of your nose.

you take sukuna in - his tall body leaning against the pillar of the kindergarten in an outfit that's far too sharp than anything you've ever seen him in.

an overcoat, pressed matching colored slacks, a leather belt with a shiny silver buckle, polished loafers and a dark charcoal turtleneck hugging all the muscle he carries. the all black attire highlights his fiery hair and silver piercings glittering underneath the warm light. he has one hand in his pocket, the other flicking through his phone screen.

your heart hammers. the space between your leg pulses.

he looks so good.

you step forward, the heel of your boot climbing up the concrete stairs. he looks up when he hears you approaching, and stands upright to greet you with a warm smile. "hey," he states calmly, berry tinted irises tracking down your body to subtly check you out.

"hi," you reply, but it comes out as a breathy whisper. sukuna rarely ever dressed up like this. he was a t-shirt and jeans kind of guy. he owned one denim and one leather jacket. he loved worn band tees, gym attire and cut out shirts. he hated spending money on clothes because he found it "frivolous" and instead would blow it on his motorbike, booze, and weed. he rented a suit once and complained the entire time. but this...

"you look," you stammered, unable to ignore the slight spark that ignited between the space where you both stood. "you look really good, ryo..."

he runs his hand over his freshly trimmed undercut, the scent of oak moss and wood wafting across your nose and making you picture an evergreen forest.

"thanks," he murmurs with a slight pout, his face falling into an honest expression of uncertainty. "I thought I overdid it a little..." "not at all, you look…fantastic…” you answer with a shake of your head and a firm word of reassurance. "this shit cost me an arm and a leg, but I had nothing else to wear tonight..." he huffed, before relaxing his stance. "glad it paid off at least" you furrow your brows softly, "you bought all this for her play?" a hint of pink kisses sukuna's cheeks and he averts his eyes shyly. "yeah, the brat keeps complaining about my scary clothes and shit..." your heart melts over the gesture.

when you think about how much sukuna cares for your daughter, how much he wants to prove to her and everyone else around him that he does, in fact, take his role as a father seriously, it makes you immensely proud of him.

you've seen the growth in the man.

the sukuna you knew five years ago and the man standing before you now were two completely different people.

and that fact messes with your head.

you swore to yourself that you would never take him back.

that you would never give him a second chance.

"anyway, shall we head inside? the show is about to start in fifteen minutes..." he interjects, cutting your thoughts abruptly before you even have a chance to tell him anything else.

you nod your head, and he casually places his palm against the small of your back to lead you inside.

the parents were cramped in the auditorium, the steel fold out chairs were uncomfortably cold but even more so for your former ex lover who was struggling to find a position for his large physique. after watching him suffer for a few minutes, you finally offered him your own seat on the aisle to give his legs a bit of breathing room.

"fucking hell, all this money we spend and they can't get some decent chairs in..." he complains and you chuckle as you bump his shoulder into his.

the performance was all about celebrating the seasons of the year and each class from the kindergarten were set to perform a specific season. the first batch of kids started with the spring season, where the kids sang and danced in little floral costumes as they taught the audience in question all about how spring brings abundance and the start of something new. the next scene moved into summer, where the performance transitioned to upbeat tempos as the kids celebrated the warmth that the season brings. the third scene transitoned to fall, where the colors of the set morphed into earth tones as the kids sang about the celebration of the harvest.

and finally it was the last scene to honor the beauty of the ice, cold winter. the scene where your daughter was performing. you nudge sukuna when you notice him dozing off, and he instantly perks upright to catch the part that he's been waiting for all night.

his face lights up when his daughter scampers onto the stage, dressed as a sparkling little snowflake. you both can see her eyes scanning the crowd, and her face brightens when she finds the two of you.

sukuna leans in to whisper in your ear, "she wanted to wear that from when she woke up this morning..."

"and did you let her?" you prod, teasing him over his softness towards her and knowing full well that she could have easily gotten her way with him.

"hell no. I wasn't going to deal with the mess of all that glitter," he answers back, your voices getting lower as the audience hushes.

the performance starts - your daughter is twirling and moving with confidence. she sings along with the choir and whenever you glance towards sukuna, you find him beaming with pride the entire time.

and then there was her big moment, her solo.

the one she has been going on and on about for weeks.

the spotlight shines on her as she takes center stage, her small hands squeezing into two tight balls as she shifts her weight from one foot to the next.

she's nervous, you can see it and it makes you itch with anticipation. you can't help but tug at sukuna's sleeve subconsciously, but the man responds by naturally taking your hand in his own.

your daughter swallows the lump in her throat, a hint of fear veiling her eyes as she glances to the side of the stage then back to the audience.

her eyes fall to you and sukuna once again, and the man simply meets her focus as he playfully waves his fingers in her direction.

her small hand relaxes, and she gives him a secret wave in return before easing her stance.

your eyes sting with tears at the interaction before she starts to sing.

you're holding your breath the entire time, pride sitting at your throat as you let go of sukuna to pull out your camera to record the entire thing. her confidence unfurls as she carries on her performance, making you think of all the afternoons and evenings she has spent performing her solo in front of you and probably sukuna while at home. by the end she takes a dramatic bow before returning to the rest of her cast.

you pause the video and turn to the man by your side who is applauding louder than everyone else in the room.

he looks at you with nothing but fulfillment.

"that's our girl," he says with a wolfish grin and cheeky wink, only triggering happy tears to fall.

sukuna drapes his arm around you, and you sling your own around his bicep in return, the other wiping away at your cheek. "yeah," you answer with a sniffle, "yeah it is"

for a moment your eyes lock, the two of forgetting your surroundings as the final song ensues.

“thank you for bringing her into my world,” sukuna murmurs, his lips merely inches from yours. but you don’t even pick up on the depth of what his gratitude even means.

you dab away at the dampness on your face. “that girl is your world, ryo” you tease but pause when you notice his face soften as he dips his gaze to your bottom lip.

“you both are.” he clarifies earnestly, but you are too stunned to speak.

he leans forward, and replicates what happened on the sofa just a few months ago by placing a small but innocent kiss on the corner of your lip.

“you both are.”

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 5 – The One About the Distorted Phone Screen that Sent Half the Fandom into the Ocean

I had no intention of writing about last week’s phone screen debacle, mainly because I found it obnoxious and a smidge infuriating. Not because I believed Jake to be on the phone screen but because people were SO QUICK TO BELIEVE it was Jake on the phone screen.

Honestly, I didn’t even need to see the “cleaned up” version of the picture because I would have sworn then – and would still swear now – it was Luke on the screen. White guy, dark hair, left hand touching his face (or, as it’s been suggested, removing sunglasses), signaling to me that the person in the photograph was left hand dominant. Add that in with all the information Luke and Nicola have laid out before us over the past three months (and, honestly, probably even before that) and there is no other answer: it’s Luke. The end, right? Nope, not even close. Like I mentioned in yesterday’s blog, we’re not allowed to have nice things.

The image comes from a video of Golda giving Nicola her WOTY award. People started taking screen grabs and dropping it into apps that claimed to clean up blurry images.

*Fun fact – I did this once to the picture of Nicola on the boat in Malta. I used three separate apps, in fact, and each time I got this frightening image of Nicola back. Do you remember the scene in Shrek where he picked up a frog and blew it into a balloon for Fiona? The frog’s eyes protruded out and his face was all puckered. That’s what I got back from these apps – a bulging-eyed monstrosity that looked nothing like Nicola. It was froggin’ weird (my Colin-Dad joke of the day), especially since, in the original image, you couldn’t even see her eyes as she appeared to be looking down at her phone.

Okay, back to what I was blabbing about…

People started adjusting the lighting on the screen grab of Nicola’s phone to extreme levels. And, there were even rumors flying around that people had superimposed Jake’s face on to the image and sent it out into the black abyss that is social media. I think I saw six different versions of the image within the first four hours of it dropping on X.

But, guess what, each time, I still saw Luke. Well, I take that back. One time, I swear I saw Johnny Bailey, which, if that had been true, I would have given Nicola a huge round of applause for being so hilariously catty about it all.

My advice, if you want to see the picture, pull it yourself. Go to YouTube, take a screen grab of it, and figure it out on your own. Do not put it through an app and don’t play with the lighting so much that it distorts the image. You may have noticed that I did not repost any of those images here. That was intentional. Form your own opinion about it.

Now that we have that out of the way – the part about me believing it was Luke on the phone screen and me suggesting you form your own opinion about it – I’ll move on to why I decided to write about this topic today.

It was because Luke did something yesterday that piqued my interest.

It wasn’t anything necessarily out of the ordinary. But, it also kind of was.

Simone Ashley posted to her grid yesterday a series of photographs. There’s nothing special here; she’s a beautiful woman putting her lovely image out into this world. It was the last picture in this slide deck that left me intrigued, though. It’s a picture of Simone – but, at the bottom left of the image, is a damn phone screen. Initially, I was a little confused by the image on the phone screen because it appeared to be Simone’s hands but also not Simone’s hands. What it was, is that the angle of the phone made the angle in which the image was depicted slightly different. Why not crop that phone out of it? Or, use a different image? Okay, whatever. I’m not sure I would have thought much of it – except Luke liked the post.

Why would this activate my little grey cells? Because it’s the first post of Simone’s in over a year that he has liked without Nicola also liking it. All throughout 2024, Luke has only liked the posts also liked by Nicola. Now, Nicola could very easily come back and like this post today or tomorrow or a week from now. She does like Simone’s posts frequently and, by Simone’s own words, Nicola and Simone are close. But, remember what I mentioned the other day. It’s the little changes that make people start giving the side eye. When taken collectively, Simone’s post, Luke’s like on the post, and the recent phone screen debacle seem, well, fucking connected in a damn funny way.

Kinda? Maybe?

I swear, I’m becoming one of those people who now plays Six Degrees to Lukola. What have I become?!

But, hey, let’s keep playing this game because, you have to admit, it IS kind of fun to speculate.

On November 10, Netflix UK dropped a post to its grid captioned “ME AND WHO???? [red heart]” The first slide in the deck is of Colin and Penelope’s wedding kiss – the one where Luke had his eyes open – and there is a red heart drawn between their chests (awe, their hearts). The remaining seven slides also include kissing couples but the red heart is drawn around their heads. The Luke and Nicola (like how I used Luke and Nicola, not Colin and Penelope this time?) picture stands out in this deck. It’s the first slide and the red heart is different than the others. And, what about that caption: “ME AND WHO????” Well, it's definitely NOT Nicola and Jake.

Is it a bit too far down the Delulu Rabbit Hole to believe Netflix would be in on a dig about “Who’s on Nicola’s phone screen?”

Perhaps.

But, remember this is also the same parent company that dropped “Nicola and Luke’s Cutest Moments” on August 28 (via Bridgerton Netflix IG), right smack dab in the middle of the Jake Festival Pap Disaster. Do you remember that? The fandom was bouncing all over the place. New festival pictures of Nicola and Jake had dropped the day before. Shondaland had also dropped a “Friends to Lovers” story that seemed oddly like Luke and Nicola. Melissa Dezarate dropped old Luke and Nicola pictures on her IG stories. Then, on August 28, Bridgerton Netflix dropped its “Cutest Moments,” and Melissa Dezarate shared more Luke and Nicola pictures on her IG stories. The “Cutest Moments,” pretty much entirely on its own (the rest was just extra frosting), turned our day right side up again. I salute you, Netflix.

Are we burrowing deeper into the Rabbit Hole? Meh. Let’s keep going.

Also on November 10, we had Dougie posting a mirror / elevator selfie to his grid with the caption, “I know it’s out of focus don’t tell me that.” Maybe he means something, maybe he doesn’t. Any ways, Jake liked this post. Now, I will admit, in the beginning of this Jake Side Story Extravaganza, I wasn’t keen on Dougie. He seemed aggressive on X – especially after those New York pap pictures dropped – but then I realized that his annoyance might be due to the narratives being spread about Jake, i.e., that he was being “hard launched” with Nicola. Recall that within a few hours of the Jake London Pap Disaster, Dougie posted to his stories an image of Jake looking at his phone with the “Mike/Sully Face Swap” meme superimposed over Jake’s face. If you research what this meme means, you’ll find that it is similar to a face-palm reaction or used for “overly ironic situations that leave you confused and perplexed.” Kind of funny, right? You’re welcome to take Dougie however you please, but over the past few weeks, I’ve become rather fond of him. He seems like a mischievous bloke, which is right up my alley.

I always have this feeling that the USS Lukola is surrounded by people who, after the ship hits a rogue wave, help to steer it back on course. The “people” come in the form of Nicola and Luke; cast, crew and friends; interviewers with their old edited-out snippets; and Netflix & Co. I’m sure I’m failing to name someone.

I shall wrap this post up with a quote from Jonathan Van Ness – who, by the way, is one of the most entertainingly funny and intelligent humans to watch. Earlier this week, JVN posted to his IG stories and Tiktok about “bobs.” With JVN, I never really know if he is being serious with what he puts out there or if we’re expected to read between the lines. Regardless, his comment was impactful to me:

“All this shit is just someone on Tiktok decided this was going to be the new name and tried to make that a trend. And that’s cool and that’s great and I love that. I just don’t want y’all getting confused. You know what I’m saying? This is just another variation of a bob.”

Take that as you please.

[hdra77]

Okay, i have a proposition for you guys

would you be interested in taking part on playing something similar to those choose your adventure type of games but through polls?

me and my friend are planning on making an oc blog based off of that and it's just a slay the princess au but our ocs (and the lore and everything else are different so it's not the exact copy of slay the princess)

you don't need to know everything about our ocs or anything what matters is that you get to have fun choosing and exploring different possibilities on how each routes would go ^^ !!

it wouldn't be in this type of lineless style like you see here it'll just have this more sketchy-like style like STP no release of date on when the blog would be publicly available yet we're still currently working on it!

[litlwolfgirl]

okay so in scrolling through transandrophobia tags and blogs the other day (to block them all) we found something interesting, that we havent seen anyone talk about.

they've coined another new term! and this time, it happens to be really interesting, in two different ways. let's talk about Malgendering

the first interesting thing is the way they define and describe this term: Malgendering is, unlike misgendering, respecting someone's gender but only when it allows you to discriminate against them on a gendered basis; or respecting someone's gender specifically by discriminating against them for it.

i.e., treating a transfem like a woman when it allows you to be misogynist, or treating a transmasc like a man so you can exclude them from lesbian spaces (<sarcasm>which totally counts as gender discrimination guys please believe me</sarcasm>)

and this is really interesting! specifically, i find it interesting because it illuminates why transandrophobia is a flawed theory. and because transfeminists, who are actually like. discussing and creating theory. havent created a term for this yet (to my knowledge)

because under transmisogyny, we are treated as women and discriminated against as women while simultaneously being misgendered, and told that we're not women and never will be.

transmascs experience transphobia, in being misgendered or discriminated against for being trans, or misogyny, in being falsely seen as women and treated suchly. but they dont experience any kind of systemic intersection of the two, its always one or the other.

and "malgendering" describes this switch! it points out, directly, that transmascs are, in the way they present themselves, essentially given a choice between whether to experience transphobia, or misogyny.

the other interesting thing about it is how they actually use it. which comes with a slightly different definition. the way transandrobros actually use the term malgendering is "the act of forcing a transmasc to misgender themselves in order to escape transandrophobic discrimination"

or in other words! that thing they do, where they resort to bioessentialist vagina purity logic, and misgender themselves to paint themselves as the victims of male aggression and violence at the hands of those nasty baeddels

they are now reframing that as something we force them to do, shifting blame for their own cissexist worldview onto the transfeminists they're trying to shout down.

and that's uh. bad. i dont have anything else smart to say on that. its just something we noticed, that we hadnt seen anyone talking about, and thought it might be worth like, starting a little conversation or spreading awareness, so y'all know what they mean, (and what they think they mean) when they inevitably start using the word in hate anons.

[leth-writes]

Distance (Yandere tim drake x reader)

SUMMARY: Tim Drake is a fucking asshole, but at least you're moving.

WARNINGS: 18+ as always on my blog, though the work is safe for work. Typical yandere shenanigans.

MASTERLIST 

Requests are open!

“Have you ever noticed anything… weird with Tim?”

Your voice breaks the cozy silence that had fallen in Stephanie’s room. The blond looked over, face the picture of confusion.

“What do you mean?” Your other friend, Conner, asked.

“I don’t know, I just… Sometimes he’s kinda creepy, ya know? Like he knows more than he lets on. Like he’s looking through you, into your soul.” You explain.

Stephanie cocks her head to the side, pretending to think.

“I mean, he can be a lil’ weird, but I think it’s just cuz he was socially stunted growing up…” She hums. What could that possibly mean? You thought, confused. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s cuz of his parents; they like, left him alone all the time when he was younger.” Stephanie continues, turning back to her homework. She seems satisfied with herself.

“I-”

“Hey, maybe you’ll just have to ask Tim, he won’t bite, ya know.” Conner says, not even bothering to face you.

The three of you fell back into silence.

You liked your friends. You didn’t have much experience with friendship, especially growing up moving around constantly because of your dad’s job. You’d met Conner completely by accident; you just so happened to be going to the same school, he just so happened to be walking down the hall, you tripped, he caught you. The two of you hit it off after that. That had introduced you to Steph, and later to Tim, and just like that, you were no longer alone.

Conner was kind, despite his outward appearance. He had dark, ruffled curly hair and a slight southern accent, and he always wore his stupid black leather jacket, the one with the spikes on the shoulders. Sometimes he even wore a dark pair of sunglasses, even inside, like an asshole. Despite his arrogance and his snarky attitude, he was a good friend, defending you from the schoolyard bullies that had plagued your life.

Steph was in some ways, his polar opposite. She had long, slightly wavy blond hair, down to the middle of her back, and the most bright blue eyes you think you’d ever seen, the color of a cloudless summer day’s sky. She was boisterous, constantly laughing and joking around, a sharp contrast to Conner’s cool, calm demeanor.

TIm was an entirely different story. He was… Quiet. Weirdly quiet. It was the first thing you’d noticed, the first time you met him, sitting down for lunch next to Steph and Kon. They’d happily introduced the two of you, and Tim. Shook your hand. You’d never met another person who shook hands, except for uppity businessmen who treated you like a baby.

His eyes were a cold, cruel blue, almost grey. They stared into you, never leaving your form, even as you turned to talk to Steph. You could feel him staring, like he was trying to cut your skull open for a peek inside. You felt like a bad lab experiment every time his attention fell on you.

His hair was always perfectly mussed, like he’d spent the entire morning debating about where to place each strand, and his clothes were impeccably prepped. All in all, he looked more like a doll than a person.

It was creepy, off-putting. Despite all of that, you were in desperate need for friends, especially friends your own age, not your annoying little cousins that you were forced to babysit when your Aunt was away on vacation, which she seemed to always be.

You were willing to put up with him, if it meant being Conner and Steph’s friend. You weren’t willing to give up that first taste of freedom from your overwhelming family.

Even if you hated him.

Tim was perfect, was the thing. Any time you had a problem, he had a condescendingly offered solution. Homework troubles transformed from a normal, if slightly irritating, part of your life into an embarrassing and awkward time for Tim to show off his expertise. Conner and Steph, both seemingly prodigies in their own rights, didn’t have nearly the same problem as you. Sometimes, in fact, you felt like they had some sort of telepathy, reading each other's minds and knowing the answers before you’d even begun.

Tim was also the perfect child, as your parents were constantly berating you. He helped his family, Tim cared for the company his adoptive father would one day be giving to him, Tim had perfect grades, Tim was perfectly behaved. Everywhere you turned it was Tim, Tim, Tim. You couldn’t even escape him on social media. If he wasn’t peering out at you with those icy eyes from Steph and Conner’s feeds, he was staring holes into your skull through pictures of him accepting awards and attending important events.

As you got to know him, the disparities between the two of you only became more clear. He was annoyingly flawless, and you seemed to be built of nothing but flaws, at least according to most of your teachers and your parents.

The constant comparisons were grating on your nerves, and you knew that if you never saw Tim again, it’d be too late. The damage to your fragile self-esteem was already done.

Luckily, today, Tim had to be with his father for some stupid gala, leaving you to hang out with your two normal, non-superhuman friends, who would never rub their perfections into your face. Even if they had plenty of them. You knew the two of them toned down their gloating when you were around, and they were always trying to hype you up, to get you to brag about your accomplishments. To hear about it from them, you’d think you were the most talented person in Gotham, if not all of America.

You were pretty sure that particular award could go to Tim.

Everything was perfect, all three of you working on your own individual homework. Steph and Kon weren’t in the class you were working on. Tim, of course, was, and he was top of the class, as you were constantly being reminded. God, he was pretentious.

Everything was perfect, of course, until Tim walked in. Steph and Kon lit up, smiling and welcoming him in. His hair was, once again, perfectly tousled, and he had clearly changed back into his normal clothes.

“Ditching, pretty boy?” Kon teased, reaching over to ruffle Tim’s hair.

“Awe, don’t tease him, you know he’s a daddy’s boy,” Steph said, laughing.

Tim just batted Conner’s hands away, before turning to face you all.

“I got out of the gala early. My presence was unneeded.” He said, face completely blank. God, he even talked like a fucking robot. You turned away, rolling your eyes.

“Oh, are you working on homework? I can help…” He began, looking over your shoulder. You turned slightly to look at him, baring your teeth in what barely counted as a smile. “I’m. Okay,” you said, teeth grinding. Tim winced at the sight. “A-alright. I’ll just…” he gestured to where Steph and Kon had migrated to Steph’s bed, now painting their nails.

You finished your homework in record time and stood up, eager to just make an excuse and get home.

“Sorry guys, my parents must be worried… I have to get home,” you said, smiling tightly.

“Oh, it’s alright, you can stay. Your parents are still at the gala.” Tim said, not even bothering to look up from where he was concentrating on painting Steph’s pinky.

Shit. He couldn’t even let you leave in dignity, could he?

You gripped the handle of your bag even tighter and turned around. “W-well, still. They don’t want me out too late.” Steph and Kon nodded, saying their goodbyes with ease. Kon waved, his newly painted black nails shining in the dim light.

Tim simply. Stared at you. It’s like he knew you were lying. What a fucking asshole.

You left without another word.

The next day, your parents dropped a bombshell on you. You were all moving. Again. No amount of protest seemed to change their mind. The date was set and your house was sold; you had until the end of the week to say goodbye to your new life.

You, of course, immediately told your new friends. You hadn’t even known them for a month. You should’ve known this would happen; your parents would never let you be happy, and neither would the universe. The mood was solemn as you all sat around your designated table. Even Tim looked upset. More upset than you’d ever seen him, in fact, you think this was the first time you’d ever seen him show an emotion.

Steph looked over, eyes pitying. She squeezed Tim’s hand. What? Geeze, you were the one who was fucking leaving, and he’s the one who was getting comforted! He didn’t even like you!

Kon leaned over the table and grasped your hand, blocking Steph and Tim from your view.

“Hey, kiddo, you okay?” You simply shook your head, biting on your trembling lip. Sure, you didn’t like Tim, but you’d miss your friends!

“Is there any way to change your parents’ minds?” Steph asked as Kon leaned back. All hint of emotion was gone from Tim’s face. He couldn’t even pretend to be upset for the rest of lunch?

“No, no. They already sold the house…” You sniffled.

“Oh…” She said, looking down at the floor. You could hear the defeat in her voice, even as it wavered.

“Well, maybe you can come over tomorrow? One last hurrah, you know? We can spend the night together, do each other's nails, watch a movie…” She asked, voice hopeful.

You nodded. “Yeah, yeah. That sounds okay…”

“You’re crying.” Tim stated, voice cold and hard. Your hands flew up to your face, shocked to find tears slowly running down your cheeks. Fuck. Fuck him for saying something. You were fucking done. You were done! He couldn’t even pretend to care for a few minutes, and now he was mocking you?! You felt your anger boil up, faster than it ever had.

“Jesus, I’m sorry for fucking expressing emotion, not like you’d know anything about that!” You said, voice cracking. You slammed your hands down on the table as you stood up, grabbing your backpack and slinging it across your shoulder. Tim looked up, startled by your outburst, mouth agape. Steph and Kon wore similar gobsmacked expressions. If you weren’t so pissed, you’d find it almost comical.

Still, you were incandescent. You fled the room, rage boiling underneath your skin, masking the hurt you were burying deep inside.

You ignored Tim the rest of the day. As a consequence, you were unable to talk to Steph and Kon. The distance pained you, but you knew if you had to see Tim’s smarmy face, you’d punch his teeth out. Neither approached you alone, though they did shoot you guilty looks from across the classroom. 

The pain was the worst part. Tim’d been an asshole, he’d made fun of you for as long as you’d known them, and they were choosing him. Everyone always chose Tim; your parents, your teachers, the press… You were stuck in his shadow, doomed to never meet his fucking mold. You were done. You just couldn’t deal with it, not while losing your two best friends, the best friends you’d ever had.

Steph texted you that night, asking you to still come over. She’d assured you that Tim and Kon wouldn’t even be there. The knowledge that Kon was still choosing Tim was painful, but you could deal with it, just to see Steph that one last time.

So, you’d agreed.

The next day came with a fresh wave of grief, pouring off you in waves. It was exhausting, so exhausting that your parents asked you to stay home, concerned you would pass out and be injured right before the big move.

You’d agreed, and spent the day catching up on some much-needed sleep.

That evening, you waved goodbye to your parents, bag slung over your shoulder, and began the walk to Steph’s place. Her family was middle class, not as wealthy as yours, but still quite well-off. You had never seen either of her parents, but Steph assured you she had a very competent housekeeper to help her out when she needed an adult.

You were almost to her house when it hit you. What the fuck were you doing? You shouldn’t be doing this. You were being naive. You’d only known them a short while, they’d forget you in a week! It would be best to just turn right around and go home; that way, you’d be spared the pain of a slow, petering off relationship. You didn’t want to watch as they made new friends, replaced you, slowly stopped responding to your calls; you couldn’t bear the pain.

So, you turned around and walked right back home, not even bothering to text Steph. You’d call her at home, when you were safe in your bed, and you had the room to cry all you wanted and eat as much ice cream as you could handle.

As you walked home, shivering, you couldn’t help but look up. The bat-signal was up, projected against the cloudy night sky. If there was one thing you wouldn’t miss, besides Tim, it was the constant crime. The constant need to carry a gas mask or a taser, the constant preparation to be kidnapped or maimed or tortured. It was tiring, always being on edge.

You kept your eyes on the rooftops, hoping for a glimpse of one of the bats. You couldn’t help your slight fascination with them, despite the way your frie- former friends constantly laughed at you. Tim had looked weirdly smug after he’d wheedled you into admitting Red Robin was your favorite, though you thought the newest superboy on the scene was your favorite hero in general. You just liked his hair (and the way he reminded you of Conner).

It was only once you were back in your neighborhood that you noticed the feeling of being watched. You whipped your head around, looking every direction and clutching your taser. You couldn’t find anyone.

Shrugging it off as needless paranoia, built up over your stay in Gotham, you continued.

The lights in your house were off. The lights in your house were off, but your parents had promised they’d leave them on for when you got home. Did the fucking forget about you?!

You grumbled and stomped up the driveway.

The door was open. A sense of unease began to build, tension keeping your stomach in knots.

You slowly pushed it open, taser in hand.

The house was dark, and empty. Even the curtains were gone. You stepped further in, anxiety beginning to build.

“Mom? Dad?” You called, walking through the living room and to the stairs. You checked each room; each was as empty as the last, both devoid of any furniture, and your parents.

You made your way up the stairs, searching each room, all empty, until you came upon your room, tucked away in the corner away from your parents’ room. The light was on, shining through the cracks in the door and barely illuminating the dark hallway. You snuck closer, taser out and ready.

Finally, you were in front of the door, and you kicked it open.

Inside, your room was perfectly preserved, the overhead light shining down.

Sitting on the bed, head buried in his laptop, was Tim fucking Drake.

“Wha- Tim?” You said, tensed shoulders drooping.

He looked up and smiled, though it didn’t reach his stony eyes.

“Hey, come in.” he gestured to the bed. Confused, you wandered over and plopped down. 

He sighed and turned to face you.

“I’m sorry it had to come to this. I never meant to upset you, but I’m afraid it’s simply inevitable.”

You stared at him. “Tim, where-where are my parents?”

He sighed again, looking out the window.

“I thought we’d be able to avoid this. I thought I’d have time. I’m sorry it had to happen this way.”

“...”

He turned the laptop to you and clicked play on the video queued up.

On screen, your parents appeared.

“I know about the assistant.” Tim’s voice came through, tinny from the low quality of the   video.

“Wh- I don’t know what you’re talking about…” your father’s voice was shaky, shakier than you’d ever heard it.

“There was an accident, wasn’t there.” Tim.

“N-no. No!” Your mom, anger clear on her face.

“It only takes one push and the story gets out.” Tim, voice and face clear. His eyes were stony, glaring down at where your parents sat on the couch.

“We’re leaving town, it won’t matter. We’ll leave.” Your dad said, voice sure. He stood up.

“Sit down.” Tim commanded, and your father did, fear flicking across his face.

“It doesn’t matter that you’re leaving. The Daily Planet is an internationally renowned paper.”

“Please, that would ruin us, you can’t!” Your mom begged, tears springing up.

“What do you want.” Your father said, face stormy. You knew he was picturing hitting Tim, and you knew he was calculating the risk.

“I want you to leave, right now, and we’ll pretend nothing ever happened.”

“We will, we will! Just let me call my daugh-”

“No. Right now.”

“...” 

You could see the acquiescence, the relief, on your father’s face. He nodded, determination slowly creeping onto his features. Your mother just sighed and rubbed her forehead.

“And what of our things?”

“I’ll have them sent to your new address.”

“How-”

Tim just stared at your mother, face grim. She closed her jaw with a sharp ‘clack’.

The video ended.

You stared, speechless. Tim simply looked over at you, face blank.

“W-wh- I don’t… I don’t understand?” You said, voice cracking.

“I’m sorry, but when you said your parents were moving… I had to move quickly.”

You stood up and began walking, feeling as though you were pushing through cotton, like you were seeing yourself in 3rd person. You could barely hear Tim calling your name as you walked down the stairs, toward the door, slowly walking faster and faster. You pushed the door open hard, barely flinching as it slammed into the frame, and burst into a sprint.

You didn’t get far.

A red blur streaked through your peripherals before coming to a stop in front of you. There was superboy, staring at you with guilt in his eyes. No, not superboy. It was Conner.

Just like that, your heart fell. 

“No.” you said, voice shaky with disbelief.

“No!” you backed up, raising the taser. Conner moved closer, hands raised in placation. You flicked the taser on and let it connect with his side. He didn’t even flinch.

“Get the fuck away from me!” You shouted, dropping the taser and whirling around to run.

Arms like steel wrapped around you and picked you up. Suddenly, you were thrown over his shoulder, your vision upside down. He marched you back into the house, plopping you back on the bed where Tim still sat, the laptop on your nightstand.

Conner shot you another guilty look, standing guard by the door, his arms crossed over his muscled chest. You’d never noticed how buff he was; you guessed the jacket was there to prevent you from noticing.

You were crying in earnest now, tears running down your cheeks.

“Please,” you begged, voice cracking.

Tim looked at you, blew out a breath, and wiped your face gently, hands cool. He cradled your face, bringing it closer.

Gently, oh so gently, he kissed your forehead, then brought your head into his shoulder, as you continued to cry. He shushed you, patting your back comfortingly.

“Why?!” you cried.

He gave no answer.

Finally, your crying slowed, then stopped. You pulled away and wiped your eyes with your sleeves.

“You’re going to come with me. We’re going to go back to my place, and you’re going to meet the rest of your family.”

You looked up at Conner, pleading with your eyes. He looked away, grimacing.

“Tim, I- I don’t want to do that, I want my parents, you get that this is fucked up, right?!” You questioned, voice cracking.

“I’m sorry. I had no choice.”

[girlsneedff]

NSFW! Minors and Ageless blogs DNI!

Sukuna x f!Reader, fwbs, best friends, Sukuna's a dick, angst, unrequited love, mentions of sex

Word count: 1k

Author's yap: This is the start of the "NOT Over It" series! Should I have started with Over It first? Possibly. But this is my writing project, and I'm gonna do what I want <3

Fun Girl

And now you’re stuck here feeling shitty. And stupid. All because you decided to fall for your guy best friend. Who you know is a dick. You thought maybe, just maybe, that you would have the chance to get with him- to be in a real relationship with him besides the friends-with-benefits relationship that you have while he’s in between girlfriends, and you’re not distracting yourself with flings and short relationships. You thought that because he’s kept you around, you were different. News flash to you: you’re not. And now you’re wishing that you’d never even asked him about that possibility. 

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

The two of you were sitting in his car, coming back from the movies. He wanted to see some random action movie, and you would follow him to the ends of the Earth, so of course you went with him. You’re sitting in the parking lot of the movie theater in comfortable silence, both of you just scrolling through your phones, not really ready to return home yet. 

“You know the girl that I was talking to?”

Oh great. You rolled your eyes, shifting to rest your head on the closed window as you responded, while you continued to scroll through your phone. Trying hard to not show him how much hearing about his prospects bothered you.

“Which one?”

“I’m ghosting her. She’s hot, but talking to her is boring. I’d rather shit in my hands and clap.”

“Ryo you’re a dick.”

“A 10-inch one.”

“It’s smaller than that.”

He hits your leg in response. You shrug, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. His body is facing you, his arm resting on the steering wheel. 

“What?”

“You think I'll end up alone?"

Your heart jumps a bit, taking this opportunity to subtly hint at something. Who knows, maybe it would work?

You scoff. “Well at this point, the only girl you’re gonna end up with is me.” You say, trying to sound absent-minded. Sukuna doesn’t even let that sentence, that possibility, hang in the air for a moment before he shoots it down.

“You know there’s no way in hell that’s happening, right?”

You could practically hear your heart cracking, feeling it crumpling in on itself. 

“Jesus, I was just saying.” You say quickly, trying to collect all of the shards of your heart before the hole is too big. Maybe you can glue it back together. He’s harsh- you know this. Don’t let it get to you.

“I’m not saying we’d be in a relationship or anything-”

“Oh yea fuck no. Sorry,” he says, in a way that you just throw the pieces you’ve collected up in the air, damning them all to hell, because you know that whatever he says is going to be devastating as he continues, “but I’d never date you. Ever. You’re not what I’m into.”

You were stunned. Looking back, you don’t know why you were stunned. You know this man. Certified womanizer, number 1 hoe. He’s noncommittal, selfish, rude, arrogant, abrasive. You knew this. So why were you so shocked?

“Oh, so I’m cool to sleep with, but not for a relationship?” You can feel your throat closing up, but you refuse to let him see you get emotional over this.

“We… have fun.”

“Fun?”

“You can’t tell me that you don’t have fun when we fuck.” He looks straight out the windshield, this conversation unconcerning to him.

You guys fuck?

It’s such a harsh way to put it. You hoped he would be softer about it- maybe salvage your feelings. You’re his best friend, for fuck’s sake. His kisses would be so tender as he slowly pushed into you, like he was taking care to not split you apart. The slow fucking and reassurance, the words of encouragement. Though it never lasted long before he’s thrusting into you like he hates you (which now, you’re wondering- does he?), you thought that those first moments were the most important. That they were his true feelings. Dumbass.

“I’m not your type, but you fuck me. How does that make sense?” You finally turn to look at him, your anger and tears combating each other to see which one holds out the longest. Your anger is winning, thankfully.

“Please don’t tell me you’re getting in your feelings about this.” He’s fucking smiling. Rolling his eyes, as if you’re getting worked up over something simple. Because to him it is simple. Sex is simple to him. He gets his rocks off fucking the shit out of anything that moves, and then he moves on.

“I don’t want to know about all of the guys that my girl’s been with. It’s emasculating.” 

“Oh, so you can slut around, but there’s an issue with me having a past?”

“No, there’s not. Because I’m not into you, so it doesn’t matter.”

“You’re such a fucking-”

Immediately you hop out of his car. You quickly start to walk to the sidewalk near the theater, keeping your eyes glued to your phone as you scroll to book yourself an Uber home quickly. Your vision is blurring, but you don’t stop looking at your phone, not giving a damn if cars are rolling through the lot. You may be an emotional wreck, but you won’t allow any man, no matter how in love with him you are, to tell you that he’s using you to your face. You can hear him call out to you- you can picture him leaning on the top of his car with that stupid grin, calling your name as if he doesn’t understand why you would be upset.

You’re that undesirable? But Ryomen Sukuna sees no issue with his past sexual escapades. His charm, and his ability to sweet talk any woman is attractive. 

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

And that leads you to where you are now, sitting in the dark of your room, sniffling and deleting everything in your Photo’s hidden folder.

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚 40𝐤

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: Sorry this took so long!🥲

𝕬𝖉𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘: I am unsure if Astartes/Primarch armors will allow them to breathe underwater, correct me if I’m wrong.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.

+@c-u-c-koo-4-40k

TW // None?

|°ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴀᴘᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ°| |°ɪᴄʜᴏʀ’ꜱ ᴀᴏ3°| |°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°|

Your Seamoth hums as you pass over the Grassy Plateaus to get to a Kelp forest biome. The fish quickly swimming out of your way as the environment changes from bright blue to a green. Your base in need of a restocking of salt, lead and if you're lucky enough some gold too.

Pulling back a little bit on the joystick of the Seamoth. You can see the Life Pod 3 you use as a bit of a marker while you exit your Seamoth. The water of the planet rushing over you as you exit your Seamoth, bubbles in your visor before it clears.

Immediately, you don’t hesitate to swim around the gradient blue and green area. Keeping your eyes peeled for the sandstone outcrops and the occasional Stalker that would like to get a nibble in or steal your metal. Though, if you really wanted to, you could give it a Peeper to tame it, make sure it won’t take a chunk out of you while you're searching for the materials you need.

Moving your body around a creepvine, you blow out of your oxygen mask as more bubbles surround your vision for a second. Your eyes catching a glimpse of an outcrop in a crevice of a hole. Swimming over, you break it with the butt of your scanner. Sand covering the outcrop before it breaks and a copper floats out into the water.

Grabbing it, you spot another off to your side. Your body moving before you look around yourself, confident that nothing much would harm you. Stalkers were rather easy to evade and take care of by yourself, it was the leviathans that were a bigger problem.

Hitting the other outcrop, a piece of gold floats out of it. A lucky find as it isn’t often you did find gold within this area. Your hands coming out to grasp at the gold and stash it before the back of your neck tingles. Your gut twisting in your stomach.

Something is wrong within the area. Something unusual. Something that isn’t where or what it’s supposed to be.

Quickly looking around yourself. You exhale, bubbles surrounding your vision for a second before you spot a weird burst of sand rising up from the Kelp forest sea bed. Your eyes narrowing on the weird cloud of sand within the sea of green.

You know there isn’t Sand Sharks is this particular area. They like the Dunes, the Crash Zone and the Grassy Plateaus. Unless one just… wondered over? Wanting a different territory? Though, a Sand Shark surely won’t like the creepvines. It would get trapped in them, wouldn’t it?

Swimming a bit closer, you hold yourself on some creepvines, hiding behind it just in case it was something more… apex. Your eyes waiting for the cloud of sand to die down to see what this potential new predator will be.

First, you see a… hammer? Float down to the sea bed? A big cloud of sand surrounding the hammer as it thumps down onto the seabed. A slight vibration going through the waters at the weight of it. Which, that thing must have been powerful to create such a vibration through the water.

Then, you see a block of green and a gold-like design. The form of a human-like entity appearing through the sand cloud; a huge one at that. It wasn’t like anything you had seen before. The closest thing you seen to be humanoid on this planet would probably be a Warper.

Making sure to leave a very reasonable distance, and making sure the waterbed has calmed down again. You wait to make your move towards the strange… alien? Armor? Your eyes taking in all the details of the armor. How it seems like there are some sort of… green scales on it, acting as a cape or a cloak. How the gold gives out a glint through the green of the kelp forest.

This was certainly not of the planet.

You give it a good, a very good, long moment before slowly swimming forward towards the strange armor. Keeping an eye out from any movement from the thing while you get closer to it. Carefully boosting yourself forward and keeping your thermoblade at the ready.

However, you hesitate as you get closer. The armor being way big up close. The size of it almost intimating if you didn’t experience your fair share of leviathans, but the armor gives you a feeling this thing could be potentially dangerous.

Ever slowly, you bring one of your hands forth to touch the armor. See if it needed to be activated by touch or something of the latter. Your fingers carefully touching the golden center of the chestpiece.

…Nothing. Absolutely nothing happened.

Swimming around the armor; now much more confident. You take a good look at the armor, making sure it’s not something from the Architects. Even if it seemed like a rather well advanced-looking armor.

Turning your attention down the hammer it came with on the seabed. I looked well… intimidating itself. Scales of something being on the handle too. Gold-like engravings being crafted into it as well.

This… random thing was rather an interesting find. It wasn’t usually one would encounter a humanoid-like armor just… spawn on a planet you're quarantined on. Much less a thing that looks like it would just sink if they jumped off into the void.

Swimming around the hammer and the armor, gaining every single detail you can, even trying to scan the armor. Nothing pops up on your scanner when you do. Your senses unaware of the eyes that watch you observe.

A growl sounds out and the hairs under your suit rise again. Your form quickly twirling around to find the familiar source of the roar. Your legs pushing you back and into the chestpiece of the armor, bubbles surrounding your vision as you exhale. Barely just spotting the Stalker that rushes at you, probably believing the armor behind you is something it can claim as its own.

More bubbles surround your vision again while you quickly exhale again. Your heart rising up through your veins and to your ears. Not expecting to have a Stalker charge you so suddenly. Their jaws wide open, ready to clamp down on any body part you presented. Your mind briefly forgetting the thermoblade you had for protection.

Your form braces for impact. Eyes tightly closing; an arm rising up so the Stalker could just clamp down on your limb rather than your head. However, nothing comes, nothing bites or radiates pain through your nerves. It was like the Stalker wasn’t even there in the first place. Could you have perhaps imagined it? For being stuck on this planet for so long?

Slowly opening your eyes. The first thing you notice to the green gauntlet that clamps down on the Stalkers maw, keeping its mouth closed as it thrashes. An heavy imprint of the gauntlet digging into the sliver, purple-ish creature. No doubt breaking whatever endoskeleton it’s been created with; teeth falling out of the creature and down to the sea bed below while its yellow-like blood seeps into the water.

You're stunned by the sudden powerdress. The gauntlet that put a brutal stop to the creature’s attack just… throwing the Stalker to the side: injured and leaving it to tell its tale before returning back to its side. Having yet to come after you.

Quickly turning around to face the armor once more. You swimming back slightly, unsure of the armors’ motives now that you know it was sentient or at least has something inside of it; controlling the armor.

You study the armor once more, watching it slowly move through the water. It’s gauntlet going up to its helmet, and you believe then. Your life on this forsaken water planet has become a lot more interesting.

A couple years has passed since you have encountered the strange armor or rather another survivor you could say. A very, very different survivor: capable of absolutely bodying a levithan themselves and just backhand Stalkers to the infinite depths of the void. It was almost… hilarious, in a way.

However, your attention is drawn to the craft of this giant of a being. How well this… Primarch? He calls himself? Forges the biggest things like the Cyclops all the way down to the smallest thing like a scanner. Of course he didn’t create those things, the mobile vehicle bay and the fabricator does that for you, but you can see his potential. You can just see the craft in his hands with how rough they look. He was definitely a hard worker, a bit charming too. Always so kind to you. It was refreshing against the lonely, aggressive environment of the planet.

“Vulkan?” You call out for the being, walking into the base he had upgraded to be accustomed to his size. His form unarmored as he would have just sunk to the core of the planet if he kept it on. His hands working on something within his quarters.

“Yes, little one?” He hums, turning his attention away from the object he was crafting. Your eyes catch a glimpse of it: a mini figurine of his armor it looks like.

“The gift for the Sea Emperor,” You start, glancing back up to his kind, red eyes. Something you find extravagant on the Primarch while you continue to walk forward until you were by his side. “It was sweet of you. She lays resting with your gift and a fulfilled promise of her kin being free.”

“It was the least I could do for the creature.” He states, looking down at you. His attention never leaving you as you stand by his side. Your bravery to just stand beside him warming his hearts as not many dare to stand too close.

You hum and nod at his words. There really wasn’t much you could do for the imprisoned Sea Emperor, but you have done your best to fulfill her wish before she swims with the stars. Her soft words always echoing in your mind, leaving an imprint on you.

“You’ve been… creating more of those mini figurines.” You change the subject, not wanting to last on the Sea Emperor for too long. Her wheezing, dying breaths within the water still affecting you. Your gaze flickering back down to the little mini figure of metal in his hands again. It looked like a baby teacup Chihuahua in his hands. Yet, with his power, he was gentle. A gentle giant. “May I ask why?”

“Ah, they are my sons.” Vulkan rumbles lightly, turning his attention to the mini figure in his hands. Twisting it around, observing it himself. “I… worry for them.”

“Your sons?” You tilt your head, your tone full of curiosity. Something Vulkan finds enduring about you. Always curious, almost innocent to the galaxy unlike the unfortunate Sons of Angron.

“Yes, my sons.” He confirms with a nod, putting the mini figure away with the rest of the others he had created since his time being here. There were at least over a hundred, maybe more of them by now on a shelf.

“You… have a lot of them.” You observe, your eyes looking over the details on the figures that differentiate them from one another. Shifting a bit closer to observe his craft.

The giant Primarch laughs lightly at your observation; grinning at you, amused. His eyes watching your every move, every twitch of you that you might make. Always observant of you.

“They are of my gene-seed.” He tries to clarify to you, even when you don’t know anything about the galaxy of the Emperor of Mankind. “They are… of genetic blood.”

“So… you didn’t have like a harem or anything like that?” You ask carefully, your mind a bit boggled by the possibility of someone carrying a child of this man. It would be a hefty baby… Not to mention multiple… if that was even possible…

“No,” Vulkan laughs again, greatly amused. His form shifting in place as he comes closer to you, standing by your side this time. “That would be more like my brother: Fulgrims’ ideal. Perhaps Khans’.”

“Well…” You sigh softly, backing off slightly from his carefully crafted figurines. Looking back up to the Primarch. “I think it’s… cute to see you care so much for your sons, even if you are not near them.”

“Cute?” Vulkan muses, raising his brows at you. Never has one attempted to refer to any Primarch ‘cute.’ “Your words flatter me, little one.”

“Can I…” You pause, unsure if he would accept your request of him. Looking away from him. “Can I have one of them… of you?”

“The figurines?” He asks, tilting his head slightly. Watching you as you nod at him. You didn’t want to admit that you wanted something to remind him by. He was a person that you had formed a relation with in a long, long time. “Yes, I can create something for you, little one.”

You simply nod before slowing making your way out of his quarters. Not really knowing now what to say as being on the planet without another human to talk to had its side effects. Your hands giving him a slight salute before leaving him be to his thoughts and creations.

[xoluvx]

everyone here is acting like they’ve never seen a blurry thigh pic and they talk like children as well as you 😭 you don’t owe anyone anything but why not put your age if you’re not a child? i’m done with people acting like their age is something to be secretive about when they’re posting content like this like grow up! yall get so butt hurt over the truth like how am i not supposed to think you’re a child

it’s the fact that you sat down and wrote this entire thing for me to just tell you to fuck off 🤭 like what exactly do you want me to do with this information? “i don’t owe you anything” .. it really is that simple babe, but maybe i should use my big girl brain and give you a proper response since you’re so desperate for it.

why are we upset that i’m not sharing my age? as far as i know, the only way i could “prove” i’m an adult is by posting my ID. let’s be so fucking for real right now. if you were so concerned about me being a minor posting inappropriate things, you wouldn’t have come at me crazy. think about it.. why would you talk to a minor with that type of entitlement? let me reiterate.. nobody owes you anything. seems like you got “butt hurt” by my response and are spiraling. furthermore, i can pick out a handful of blogs - if not more - that do not disclose their age and are doing crazier shit than i am. but hey, did i mention this is my blog and i can do whatever i want? yeah. there’s that.

you say were scrolling through my page “wondering if my age was anywhere”.. that’s a very peculiar reason to scroll through someone’s blog, don't you think? are you sure you weren’t fangirling at first? i digress.

what exactly did i do “for a reason”? answer your ask with attitude? um yeah.. i absolutely did babe. i may be sweet, but i'm not a pushover and i will defend myself if i need to. come on, we gotta start using our brains!! it seems the only one “butt hurt” here is you. again, i’m so sorry that people seem to agree with me or at the very least, like me enough to engage with my content.

grateful for the scroll? baby, please don’t flatter yourself. i am grateful for my 6k followers though 😘

bonus: this is me actually being petty and going there.. *you’re probably not someone to talk about age and/or how someone speaks when you can’t tell the difference between ‘your’ and ‘you’re’. anyway ..

if you’re still not convinced, just keep reading love.

omg look a legal adult drinking and showing skin!!! blasphemy.

i’m not a child.. so yeah thanks for the (fake) concern. you may kindly fuck off now 💖

[sweetdreamspootypie]

hey, saw your tags on my iStop notice and had to say something. if you're a nurse you really gotta take the can't leave port accessed thing super seriously. I think it may apply to all IVs but I have a port so that's what I know.

I don't think I was explicit about it: the reason it is so highly illegal has nothing to do with infection. it is specifically to prevent people from having IV access for illegal drug use.

so imagine how I feel about the port being left in now that I know what they think I wanted from the hospital.

@kelpforestdwellers

(idk how tumblr does notifications for asks so figured I'd tag you)

Yeah that makes sense as the reasoning

But still

Plenty of people have central lines out in the community - people on chemo, long term antibiotics, dyalisis, gastroparesis patients who are TPN / IV hydration / IV antiemetic dependant. And those are just the ones I have met going through y particular ward which is general medical, not specialized.

I know you have been / are going through a very long and frustrating process around getting it added to your official care plan and being properly facilitated to access your port at home.

But I have assumed that's just bureaucratic paperwork nonsense about like. Which doctor wants to put their signature to it that they've done due diligence about risk management with you. And stuff about who's job it was to organise it for you.

As opposed to being issues with just having an accessed port at home itself.

It is obviously a huge fuckup to have an /accidentally/ accessed port - but that's still to my mind mostly about infection control.

If they did actually think you were at risk of unsafe IV drug use then yes that is also a major beach of duty of care.

I just had a quick scroll through your blog and you haven't said anything about the process of discharge besides the fact that there was back and forth about when it would be. So tbh I'm confused how you also didn't know it was still accessed, as it's a whole process to de-access it unless you were expecting procedures to be done while you are unconscious. But there was so much other things you were chasing for a safe discharge that I guess it just got forgotten for you.

It sounds like that ward were not confident with the port - you mentioned them getting snotty about doing a blood draw - which is wild to me, because central lines are amazing for that. It's so easy to do a blood draw, we love it. Especially ports! Way easier than PICCs. The only issue is that a phlebotomist will not do patients with central lines, so the nurse has to do it. So it's not a 'patient refused' it's a 'not done on pleb round - awaiting nurse to do it's

So the fact that that happened implies a high percentage of nurses there aren't familiar with central lines, which almost certainly contributed to it not being on their mental checklist for when you left.

Which is a silly situation but also kinda familiar. One of our gastroparesis patients has a standing plan that if she ever needs to go to hospital, she will access her port herself and draw her own blood samples at home before she goes, because it's not worth dealing with ER staff where nobody is confident to initially access a port.

Anyway yeah

I can see the reasoning about it being bad to have an unplanned IV access for drug abuse concerns

But I still would absolutely not blink an eye about a patient coming in from home or going home with central line access. But it should be part of a clearly documented plan for discharge.

I'm in aotearoa though, so different laws obviously. If there is something similar here, I wonder if it's one of those things where they tell you as part of putting the port in in the first place, but. For anyone else it's not relevent.

I hope things start moving for you for being able to access it safely at home.

[iniziare]

Some 'randomized' Solas tidbits, some of these are things in DATV that I default to (though I will change as to accommodate decisions made from the Rooks I will write with within reason: example being that I'm not open to all endings), and others are just random thoughts I wanted to touch on. Ah, sometimes I get a little sad that I need to put all of this under a read more, but I don't want to spoil anything for people. Here we go!

— The ending. As a writer of Solas, I can't do anything other than default to the 'best' ending, which includes Solavellan, and the choice to use Mythal's essence. Which is not to say that I will force Solavellan onto everyone, and it actually is not even the main reason as to why I choose it (though my heart does, every time) as my default. It's simply that the inclusion of Mythal is incredibly fundamental to him being able to atone for his 'sins', that you will have to bribe me with kilograms of chocolate to have me waver from it. I can and will do it if you insist, but then it is important that you know that he can not, and will never properly 'atone'. No other ending will get Solas to that state of mind, and 'insisting' on it as you see in the 'bad' (/worst) ending will simply fetch the intense reaction you would expect from going so firmly against the embodiment of pride, rather than wisdom (I'll write a separate post on how this works in a bit, and link it here for reference.)

— Solavellan. On that note, yes, I'm an intense Solavellan shipper, and the ending that includes her is, in my opinion, most fitting to his character, and is the one that I choose as, shall we say, 'my canon'. I will not force this decision on anyone, but in threads with others where Lavellan is mentioned, unless we've decided differently in our plotting, I will default to it in the same way that Bioware has decided to do with Veilguard's release. It's simple: Solas has, does, and will always hold feelings of great love for her.

— Emotive expression. It is noted that spirits feel incredibly deeply, and we notice this from Solas as soon as the second regret memory where we hear him speak to Mythal. He speaks softly, and earnestly, he reaches out to grasp, to touch, and you hear a deep sense of something akin to defeat in his voice when she refuses his offer, and him. Of course, this is emphasized even more by the memory of him as a spirit of wisdom. It is for this reason, that it's important to note that the best way for this to manifest in mortal form, is through artistic expression, and that it wasn't only specific to the timeline of Inquisition. The music room is a treasure trove to me, and through the note that we find there, we know that it was a spot of great importance to Solas himself, and that memories held therein are precious to him. I will go into details in a separate post for it as well, but it's not just the musical instruments that are important in here, but the mural plays an equal part. Did you see it? The mural that holds the symbol of the Inquisition? Not only does this tell me rather firmly that Solas returned to the lighthouse at some point after the events of Inquisition, but it isn't just any Inquisition insignia. No, if you look closely, and remember: it's a recreation of Solas' frescoes from his rotunda in Skyhold. Not only that, but it is in the place that serves as something akin to a museum or memorial to his regrets. Go ahead, tell me what that says to you, and how much it breaks your heart. Any way, back to the... original purpose of this bullet point: Solas' way to cope, or his way of expressing his emotions, is through the stroke of a brush (Spotify decided to ruin me at the worst of moments:"If I sway my brush, will I capture thee?') a chord engulfed by silence, or writings to parchment, but is not relegated to just these things.

— His connection to Mythal. This is an incredibly complex and very nuanced topic that I will be going into on a regular basis on this blog. I will never say that Mythal should be glorified, or forgiven (I'd say the opposite), but what I think doesn't matter, for what matters on this blog is what Solas thought, and thinks. Sifting through Morrigan's reaction to being asked to talking about them and having such a deep reaction to it, to the conversation that Rook had with the potentially 'oldest' and least 'evolved' (and so the closest to what Solas once knew) fragment of Mythal, I can't say that they are not complicated. From 'What should I have done when Solas turned against me after all we had been to one another?' to 'Can you even understand what it is to battle with someone and love them even still? That is what Solas and I are to one another.' To Morrigan's 'Yet Solas was once beloved of Mythal.' And finally, the note found in the music room. And those lines? They are from the side that I think is much more complicated than the other. Regardless of how it came to be, I think that the nature of Solas' intense emotional (as I elaborated on in the previous point) perspective of Mythal is undeniable, and it served as the driving force for everything that he committed himself to doing, including going against his nature as a spirit of Wisdom over, and over, and over. And yet, with each day that passes, I think that the nuance is much deeper than I first thought on day one of finishing Veilguard. Mythal did terrible things, but it's paramount to remember what Solas, himself, was like and still is, because a lot of answers can be found in that. I'm sorry, perhaps not everyone will like my future analyses of this despite the fact that I am very far from a Mythal apologist, and never will be, but I insist on critical thought and nuance when I seek answers. And yes, I think that all of this only empowers Solavellan.

— Fade Prison. 'Regret, like all emotions, is a powerful thing. (...) Regret is even strong enough to serve as the lock on a prison built to hold gods'. It is, in fact, a prison of regret. And for it to be able to hold Rook captive instead of Solas so that the latter could escape it, Rook's regret, for that moment in time, had to outweigh Solas' own. But by that same token, I raise a different, and very important topic: Varric. 'When you disrupted my ritual, the magical energies pulled me here, into the Fade.' Focus on the words, he got 'pulled into' the Fade, unintended, not of his own accord. Now, as of the moment that the struggle between Varric and Solas comes to an end, which leaves the former stabbed, over twenty to twenty-five seconds pass during which Solas could have gotten 'pulled into the Fade' and yet was not. So I ask: why not? If it is, as he says, a prison of which the lock is held by the intensity of one's regret(s), then I think that it can only mean one thing. Now, if you let the scene play out, you notice one thing, and that's that Solas is only pulled into the prison, directly after Varric actually dies (which Solas is turned towards, and thus witnesses). To me, it's always been clear that Solas created, and fostered bonds within his time in the Inquisition, but I think that this moment is proper evidence of that. He who called him 'Chuckles' wasn't just an ally, but he was someone that Solas regarded fondly enough, that witnessing (and being ultimately responsible for) his death, was ultimately the pivotal thing that the prison needed, and used, to pull him in to it, which in turn set loose both Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain.

[robertsbarbie]

also i am once again super paranoid my classmates found my blog

[reading-comp-posting]

Hi, sorry for the minor breakdown but this has been brewing for a while, even before my first little break, but I've really been thinking about it since earlier this morning. I have (at the moment) a bit over 15,000 followers. That's far too many.

In the interest of trying to pretend that I don't have an inordinate amount of people following me, I'm going to be closing the askbox for a bit, maybe forever. Nobody's sent me anon hate or anything, but even positive messages scare me now. Each one is a reminder that there are 15,000 people looking at the things I post. Even making normal posts (not to mention meta ones like this) has gotten to the point of being genuinely nerve-wracking.

So the askbox is off, and I probably won't even be checking notifications frequently and/or at all. I will attempt to convince myself that nobody is seeing my blog or anything I post on it.

As for the fundraiser posts that have been sent previously, I will post those in time. Because the askbox will be closed, no more can come through, however. This is because I am, as established earlier, a coward.

[hms-incorrect-quotes]

Due to this being the strike week for Palestine, I wont be posting any quotes for the whole week & instead reblogging any helpful posts that support Palestine that I see. [This includes the Headcanons blog as well.]

Please help out in anyway you can!!! Even if you cant donate, spread the word. A free easy thing you can do daily is even to just click a button.

Twitter seemed more active and posted more information & aid last time so please look there as well!

[juniperleafdelivery]

[skogsdotter-draws]

Ok but, regarding TMAGP 27, I can't stop thinking about Jonah writing, after sending Archibald to a certain death, "It is done, and I am surprised to find how little remorse I feel." It reminds me of his statement in MAG 160:

"The discovery, not simply of the dark and horrible reality of the world in which you live, but that you would quite willingly doom that world and confine the billions in it to an eternity of terror and suffering, all to ensure your own happiness, to place yourself beyond pain and death and fear. (...) It is an awful thing to know about yourself."

I will never get tired of little details about his life being revealed (regardless of the timeline/dimension) because the parallel between his discovery of the supernatural world and the discovery of his own true self and the things he's capable of is so interesting and compelling to me.

Along with the knowledge of the horrors that exist in his world comes the horror of the realization that he might be capable of anything to stop feeling scared and vulnerable, to put himself over everybody else if necessary. Every time curiosity leads him into a new experiment, a new sacrifice in the name of knowledge, he lets go a little bit of himself and his morality. And then, as it happened with Archibald, and as it happened with Barnabas in another world, he feels surprised of how easy it was. Of how he doesn't feel regret or grief, how at most he finds himself thinking that it was all a pity. So it becomes even easier each time, he finds freedom in it, as he also mentions in MAG 160— and one sacrifice after another, it all becomes incredibly simple. There is no fear of losing himself, only the fear of death and pain remains, and only after that process of two hundreds years can one condemn the world for his own sake.

The progressive descent into evil of Jonah Magnus, slowly exposed through statements and letters, will never stop being one of the more interesting parts of this podcast imo.

[icewindandboringhorror]

sometimes looking at like Self Help Strategies lists for the symptoms I'm having is always just like:

thing that I already do

thing I have tried 10 times

thing I already do

thing that I don't have the money to do

thing I already do

thing I've been doing since I was 10yrs old to no avail

thing that is impossible given my situation

thing that doesn't apply to me

thing that I already do

thing I have already tried

hrmm, oh wait, maybe finally- OH, yeah.. okay. thing that I already do but it was just phrased slightly differently

thing I have already done