#because i never saw someone do it

[novelconcepts]

I Saw the TV Glow is such a uniquely, devastatingly queer story. Two queer kids trapped in suburbia. Both of them sensing something isn’t quite right with their lives. Both of them knowing that wrongness could kill them. One of them getting out, trying on new names, new places, new ways of being. Trying to claw her way to fully understanding herself, trying to grasp the true reality of her existence. Succeeding. Going back to help the other, to try so desperately to rescue an old friend, to show the path forward. Being called crazy. Because, to someone who hasn’t gotten out, even trying seems crazy. Feels crazy. Looks, on the surface, like dying.

And to have that other queer kid be so terrified of the internal revolution that is accepting himself that he inadvertently stays buried. Stays in a situation that will suffocate him. Choke the life out of him. Choke the joy out of him. Have him so terrified of possibly being crazy that he, instead, lives with a repression so extreme, it quite literally is killing him. And still, still, he apologizes for it. Apologizes over and over and over, to people who don’t see him. Who never have. Who never will. Because it’s better than being crazy. Because it’s safer than digging his way out. Killing the image everyone sees to rise again as something free and true and authentic. My god. My god, this movie. It shattered me.

[starry-bi-sky]

i think i'm hilarious -- aka i made blood blossom danny au memes

all of these come from my DpxDC prompt "i am pushing the batdad agenda--" and it's corresponding additions in the reblogs ksdjlf.

i am. rotating them in my head. forever and always. personally i think there should be more batdad aus in dpxdc, their dynamic could be neat. :)

[egophiliac]

:) hello! :D hope you have a nice day and absolutely do not think of the possibility of one of the last story cards being of silver! and that his groovy will very probably be crying!!! THERE'S SO MANY CRYING PEOPLE IN STORY CARDS LATELY!!! SPECIALLY LIGHT USERS!! I AM!!! SCARED!!!! bc so far we got Lilia and Sebek in the beginning book 7.... so at the end.... so we're missing story Silver... and Malleus is the one with less cards, so they might add one for him... but... the tears... ego.... THE TEARS!!!! EGOOOO!! (LOVE YOUR ART BTW EVERYTIME I GET A NOTIF FROM YOUR BLOG I RUN HERE TO SEE!)

(thank you! 💚💜💚)

YES I am ALSO like...90-95% convinced that we're going to be getting a story card for Silver once we wrap around back to diasomnia. 👀 especially because the way things are going, Silver will be the only character whose dream we haven't seen -- yet???? -- and that just. y'know. makes me wonder!

although I do think it would be VERY funny if he got a story card and the groovy was just "regular Silver except with one beautiful single crystal tear". this is actually a lot coming from him.

(he used up all his emotion yelling at a baby that one time, there's none left for a proper groovy-level cry.)

[spideypoolsupremacy]

(Asking as someone who can't stop cringing at my attempts of smut and will probably never write it)

Also kissing doesn't count as smut. You can argue about it BUT IT'S NOT

Also ALSO I know the answer might depend on the fandom u are reading so let's just answer in general alrighty

Reblog for larger sample size blah blah blah (but like really plz)

[lovesickeros]

☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.

[demigods-posts]

I've seen a lot of discourse about Virginia Kull's portrayal of Sally Jackson in the Percy Jackson and the Olympians TV series, and I'd like to say that I loved her. Don't get me wrong. I love Sally from the original book series, and I, too, would fight the God of War on her behalf. But something that I enjoyed about Virginia's portrayal of Sally that we don't get in the books is the character depth. We don't hear much of Sally's backstory in the TV series, apart from a couple of flashbacks with younger Percy and that scene with Poseidon (Toby Stephens). However, those scenes do an excellent job of showing us that alongside being Percy's mother, Sally is also a young woman who fell in love with a man she could not be with and is enduring the natural consequences of having Percy. She struggles to communicate with him when she's frustrated, gets teary-eyed when she lies to him to prolong the inevitable, and actively sacrifices her happiness to ensure his safety. Virginia Kull's portrayal of Sally Jackson reinforces the character's humanity, imperfections, and determination, and it's everything to me.

[flwrkid14]

Buried Beneath The Laughter They Ignored

Tim is totally fine. Ridiculously fine, actually.

It didn’t matter that he woke up feeling this bubbling, manic laughter in his chest, like everything was suddenly so fucking funny. It didn’t matter that he’d woken up from another nightmare last night, crying, calling for his mama—not the mother he lost, but the mother he gained, Harley Quinn. And it didn’t matter that most days, he felt more like Joker Junior than he did Tim Drake.

It didn’t matter that no one else seemed to fucking care.

He shoved down every bit of laughter clawing up his throat, because he knew if he let even one chuckle slip, they’d all give him that look. The one they always did. Disapproval masked as concern. They didn’t like Junior. They didn’t want to believe Junior was still in there, clawing his way up every time Tim breathed.

It didn’t matter that no one ever asked him how he was doing. They didn’t want to talk about it. Because talking about it would make it real, and they preferred pretending it wasn’t. They expected him to be fine, to push it down, to carry on like nothing happened. If he tried to bring it up, they’d say he was being insensitive—insensitive to Jason's trauma. What fucking irony, he thought bitterly. As if it wasn’t insensitive to be stepping all over his by not letting him speak.

It didn’t matter that he caught them glancing at him sometimes, like they were waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for him to snap, waiting for Junior to come out again. But they never asked. No one asked what was going on in his head. No one fucking asked.

It didn’t matter that when he finally snapped, when he finally screamed at them, sick and tired of pretending, they had the nerve to act clueless. As if they didn’t know.

It didn’t matter that Dick, of all people, screamed back. Yelling like he was being unreasonable. Like he was the problem. He screamed at Tim, demanding answers, to ask what the hell he meant by Joker Junior, as if—

As if they didn’t know.

They didn’t fucking know.

This whole time, they hadn’t known.

They didn’t know Tim had been taken. They didn’t know Tim had been missing. They didn’t know Tim had been held prisoner at the hand of the Joker for months, tearing him apart, piece by piece, until Junior was the only thing left of him. They didn’t know he had screamed for them, begged for someone to find him, but no one ever did.

They didn’t know how much he had suffered. Alone. They didn’t know how much he had changed. They didn’t know that every time he woke up now, it felt like he was still Joker Junior, just wearing Tim’s skin.

And they didn’t know how much it hurt—how much it broke him—to realize that they had never known.

Tim wasn’t fucking okay. And it mattered—oh, it mattered—that they didn’t fucking know.

Because if they didn’t know, it meant no one ever bothered to look. It meant no one ever cared enough to notice.

[shepherds-of-haven]

ok idk if you know what love and deepspace is (if ya’ll do, you’re a real one) but my boy zayne reminds me of blade eeeeevery time i play 🥹🥹 he’s like blade but like… with just a little more rizz?? ahagfhaksh lol

I can see the resemblance... 😳

[storywestistrash]

watched mouthwashing finally. the fact that i saw people be more aggressive towards curly than jimmy is kinda strange. kinda real weird

[jamietwat]

Jamie and Roy spending ridiculous amounts of time together and Phoebe knowing about it definitely means that Jamie’s around Phoebe a lot more in the off-season when she’s off school and Roy’s off work but still being Jamie’s personal trainer for free (and she definitely likes bossing Jamie around just as much as Roy does and finds the ridiculous shit Roy makes him do hilarious)

And you know that thing where kids love to randomly go watch this, I can do a somersault or want to see me do a cartwheel? and then you just have to awkwardly stand there and be like wow whether they actually can do them or not (and sometimes several times in a row have to try to think of something new to say the fifth time they do the exact same thing and then look to you for a reaction)

I’m just saying at some point they’re in some park and Phoebe definitely pulls a look how good I’m getting at cart wheels, Uncle Roy! around Jamie at some point and while Roy just stands there like 🧍‍♂️ and gives compliments that gradually get more and more deadpan and debates turning it into saying how much more impressive that is than anything Jamie’s done all morning but he doesn’t because he’s 90% sure that would just lead to Jamie getting all indignant and competitive and proving he can cartwheel too as if Roy isn’t already annoyingly aware of that from when he was dying trying to keep up with Jamie in Amsterdam while he was cartwheeling and practically skipping

But obviously Roy not saying anything doesn’t matter anyway and Jamie turns it into being like watch this to Phoebe and cartwheeling too and turning to Roy after like well go on, tell me how good I am at that too

Roy deadpans somehow it’s far less impressive watching a grown man cartwheel for attention. It’s just sad, really

But Jamie isn’t offended at all and just shoots Roy an obnoxious smirk and insists you’re just saying that because you know you couldn’t do one. Even trying would probably end with you needing a hip replacement or something

But before Roy can even properly argue or say something bitchy back, Jamie’s turning back to Phoebe with a how about this then? But even though it’s her he asks, it’s Roy he looks to the moment he finishes running a few steps and doing a one-handed cartwheel

And Jamie’s like well now are you impressed??? And god, Roy resents that he is and he could make a dig about how useless of a skill it was as an adult and how that wouldn’t accomplish anything on the pitch and he’d just look like one of the kids that picks flowers on the pitch instead of playing or even paying attention to where the ball is, but instead he rolls his eyes and says yeah okay

And Jamie beams but he doesn’t have time to properly gloat and give Roy shit because Phoebe’s already bossing him around telling him that he has to teach her how to do that too

[saucy-mesothelioma]

Beginning of The Beast Route: Oh my God, are we gonna see a kitty princess? Is this the kitty route?????

Actually in The Beast Route: Not a kitty not a kitty nOT A KITTY NOT A KITTY NOT A KITTY

[boyfridged]

"and jason never looked more like a kid that he did in that moment, so vulnerable. so small" cool and i can think of like 478359 moments throughout his robin run when he did in fact look very small and vulnerable. starting with the first meeting and ending with multiple death scares that brought bruce to his knees too. but sure whatever you are on dematteis

[doyelikehaggis]

7 Days of Scarepairs: Sciles | Scott McCall x Stiles Stilinski (Teen Wolf) + “Grief”

Requested by @joanthangroff (TW mention of suicide attempt)

It was a long ride back from the motel. At least, it felt longer. Stiles' gaze burning holes in the side of his face wasn't making it go any faster, either. Scott could see his bouncing leg, hear his racing heart and smell the anxiety radiating off of him. Even if he were oblivious to all of that, he would still know something was wrong with him.

"Stiles," he said wearily, looking at him properly for the first time since Coach snatched his whistle back off of Lydia and told them to sit down. "Are you okay?"

"What? Oh, yeah. I'm fine. All good."

The way he glanced at him said otherwise. Scott raised his eyebrows pointedly and the leg bouncing stopped. Stiles ran a hand over his thigh and nodded jerkily as if reiterating that he was fine.

"Look, we're gonna figure this out, okay?" Scott assured him as best he could. "From what Ethan said, there's a good chance that Derek is alive. Once we get back to Beacon Hills, we can find him, and we can make a better plan. No one else is going to get hurt."

He just managed to bite back a promise. He knew he couldn't. He only hoped that it was the truth.

But Stiles stared at him like he could see right through him, his eyes narrowing. He parted his lips like he was going to retort, as he usually would, but instead, he just shook his head and turned to face the back of the seat in front of him. As he ran a hand over his face, Scott frowned.

"You're angry," he blurted out.

Stiles shook his head again and sighed. "No. No, Scotty, I'm not angry." His heart skipped but he acted like Scott couldn't hear it. "I'm just... I'm tired. Last night was..."

"I know," Scott said softly. His own heart skipped. "But the darach's not going to catch us by surprise like that again."

Stiles nodded, but he didn't say anything else. In fact, he didn't say anything else for the rest of the ride. Scott wanted to, but something stopped him. He took to staring out the window and letting his eyes unfocus as he repeated his plan to find Derek in his mind the whole way home.

*

The bus dropped them off at the school. Stiles insisted on driving Scott home, even though he had his bike. He didn't put up a fight - he just wanted to go home and see his mom before he did anything else. That phone call back at the motel had felt too real. He just needed to see her.

Of course, she was at work. Scott sighed when he found the note on the fridge, but he told himself not to overthink it. She was fine.

"Alright, well, I think we should go to Derek's loft first," he said, turning to Stiles who was lingering by the back door, his arms folded. "He'd most likely have gone back there to try and heal."

He frowned.

"Although, if the alpha pack are looking for him, that might be too obvious. Maybe we should try the animal clinic first. He could've gone to Deaton, right?"

He waited for Stiles to agree with him or suggest something he hadn't thought of because right then, all Scott had was a handful of guesses and maybes.

But Stiles didn't chime in. He shrugged when he realized Scott was looking at him.

"Stiles, are you sure you're okay?" he asked gently.

Stiles dragged a hand over his face and sighed again, his tongue in his cheek, and he could smell the irritation on him, just like when they were on the bus.

"You know what? No," he snapped, throwing his hand up. "No, Scott, I'm not okay, and, quite frankly, neither are you, and I don't get why we're just pretending that last night never happened. Because it did."

"Do you mean..." Scott couldn't quite get the words out, his throat closing up around them and forcing them back down. He shifted his feet, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment. "The wolfsbane?"

"Yeah, I'm talking about the wolfsbane," Stiles said, his voice thick with emotion he was failing to contain. "More specifically, what the wolfsbane did to you, Scott."

Scott shook his head, his eyebrows drawing together as he tried to ignore the sick feeling weighing down on him. "It was just... you saw what it did to all of us. Ethan-"

"Tried to saw himself open, yeah," Stiles cut him off. "Probably something to do with his freakish ability to combine into one even more freakish mutation with Aiden. Isaac - he was hiding under his bed. Boyd and Lydia were hearing things. But you, Scott..."

He took a step toward him, and Scott watched his feet, observing every little detail of his shoes and the kitchen floor.

"Scott, you tried to kill yourself."

"It was just..."

"No. No, Scott, the wolfsbane brought out all of your biggest fears and just - just heightened your true emotions. Boyd's guilt about his sister, Isaac's fear of his dad, Lydia always being the one to find dead bodies. It wasn't the wolfsbane talking when you did that. Was it?"

Scott knew he had to give him an answer. He just didn't think either of them really wanted to hear it. The truth hung in the air between them, as suffocating as the gasoline that still clung to Scott's senses.

"It doesn't matter," he said quietly, then looked up to meet Stiles' disbelieving stare. "We need to find Derek. We can't waste any more time, we need-"

"Scott, stop! Can you even - you nearly died! Twice!"

"But I didn't-"

"Because someone stopped you! Allison literally had to sew you back together because you felt so guilty about Derek being dead that you were going to let yourself die, too! Scott, I had to talk you out of setting yourself on fire, how can you not - how do you not see how messed up that is?!"

"Stiles, I'm sorry about last night, okay? I shouldn't have... I should've fought the wolfsbane, or..."

Stiles just stared back at him, shaking his head incredulously. Finally, in a much softer voice, he said, "Scott, I don't want you to be sorry that I had to save you. I just... I just wanna know that you don't actually believe what you said last night."

It was a simple request. It would take just two words. And yet...

Scott opened his mouth. Then he shook his head and closed it again, looking away with a piercing pain where his healed wound was just yesterday.

"You have to admit that a lot of what we've gone through wouldn't have happened if I hadn't..."

"Hadn't what?" He looked back up to see the reason for the quiver in Stiles' voice; tears shone in his wide eyes. "Hadn't survived being bitten by Peter? That's what you meant, wasn't it?"

He tilted his head but he didn't get a chance to deny or confirm. Stiles already knew. He looked like he might crumble into a million pieces.

"Scott," he said, his voice cracking as he moved closer. "I don't care what's happened to us. I don't care about the murderous werewolves or - or the hunters, or any of the crazy supernatural things that keep happening around us, alright? Because we've survived it, but what I wouldn't have survived was losing my best friend."

Scott bit his tongue, his eyes stinging. Part of him wanted to point out all the bad things - the numerous times he's put his life in danger, the people who haven't survived the craziness of their world, and everything else.

Then Stiles really did crumble. "Scott, I meant what I said last night. And I can't lose you. I can't - you and my dad, you're all... you're all I've got, and I can't - Scotty, I can't lose you as well. I need you. And I know how selfish that is, but it's true. So, if you need a reason to - to believe that you should be alive, then there it is. Me, Scott. Make me your reason if you have to, or your mom, or even Allison, because I promise you that none of us would be better off if you weren't here."

"You'd be safe, at least."

He didn't mean to say it. It just slipped out.

"You don't know that," Stiles countered, then he shrugged. "And even if that was true - I don't care. Scott, I'd rather be in danger every day of my life from some supernatural threat than live without you."

He didn't know what to say to that. All he could do was surge forward and hug him. Stiles immediately wrapped his arms tight around him, as if he never intended to let go.

"I'm sorry," he repeated quietly into his shoulder.

"Just make me a promise, Scotty. Alright? Promise that you'll talk to me, so that, when you start blaming yourself for every bad thing that's ever happened, I can tell you what an idiot you are."

Scott chuckled and nodded. "I promise." Then, he softly added: "I mean it."

Stiles tightened his arms just a little more. Both of them savoured the feeling of the other against them. Solid. Real. Alive. Safe. For a moment, they were as physically intertwined as they were in every other way.

Scott knew they should look for Derek. They should come up with a plan to stop the darach. But he wasn't ready to let go of the first real feeling of comfort he'd felt in a while.

[mushroominaforest]

I keep drawing stuff for the ask blog and then realizing i can't post it lmao (by "this keeps happening" i mean its happened three times I'm just dramatic)

look. look. the siblings au was just me having fun writing a story, and then one day i drew and posted one (one) meme about it to my account with twelve (twelve) followers, and it somehow blew up??? so i kept posting more about the au cause... people liked it! exciting! and now i have 321 followers and i have NO idea how that happened lmao but uh it did.

the thing is, the story and the canon is pretty dark in a few parts (obviously lol) and I'm worried about posting any more-in-detail angst and a few things i havent even mentioned bc i dont know how much i trust you guys to listen to trigger warnings. no offence of course!!!! im sure you guys are super responsiple and stuff, i just want to be careful, human curiousity is a very powerful thing and i know ive probably looked at a few under the cut things that I knew would upset me just because i was curious lol.

is that just me??? let me know if it is bc im clueless lmao

i just wanna know like. if i were to make a post on the ask blog with the comic under the cut and a "tw suicide" or something on top, would people actually lisen to that and be careful? I'm always worried that people will ignore those

[sunshine-and-her-ikevil-stuff]

I hate that the more I learn about Alfons, the more similarities I see between him and me

[delicatepointofview]

#he’s just like me