#but I will put it in the doc instead

[commence-screaming]

I know you all are awaiting my response, and I’m grateful for your patience. There are some things I have to address here. Never wanted to put everything out there—I don’t like drama on my blog. I have a document that’s over a thousand words long, but I realized that when people have blocked me and are saying stuff in the main tag, they don’t want to listen. They just want to hurt me.

So I guess now there are things I have to clarify… it’s heavy, but I tried to keep it short. I didn’t have the energy to read everything they were saying about me so I may get things wrong. I didn’t really want to post this.

Content warnings for mental illness, suicidal ideation, mentions of abuse.

Let’s get right into it.

1. I’ve always lived with the paranoid delusion that everyone was conspiring against me, that people secretly hated me and would smear me behind my back. I passed these off as negative thoughts, anything that might’ve “confirmed” this would set it off. I’d have an episode I would have to deal with on my own. I thought that nobody would stick with me in a crisis, and I would always be thinking along the lines of, “is it all over?”

I feel liberated, now. There’s no need to fight when they’re true. I am more at peace with myself.

2. I never want to hurt anyone. Not a real level, the angst stuff is fictional pain. I am autistic—the things you’re hearing me say are the first times I’ve talked to people (other than my family) for my entire life. I always want people to go to me when I do something wrong so I can handle it and learn from my mistakes, that’s why I have my bio set to what it is.

That, and my memory is so fuzzy that I can’t remember too much from even last week. I tend to dissociate and my brain turns into mush.

3. The “minor incident” that Ghouse and the others were talking about was one of his mods saying she’d “tear people apart” and then immediately citing me as the main cause because I was “being rude.” I told her why I was taking a break, as I couldn’t handle it, this had happened before and I asked them to correct me if I was wrong—even confirming multiple times that we were just joking around because I was paranoid.

I suggested they go straight to me for future reference. I was having a mental health episode. She called me crazy and that I was overreacting, implying I was stupid. Another mod told me I was overreacting and that I was acting pathetic and childish. This made point 1 so much worse.

4. The “suicide baiting” was something I told the Panic Room server in confidence. I told them I was talking a break. Ghouse said “it wasn’t that bad but okay,” as if he were gaslighting me. He said things like this as I was sobbing alone in my room, which he was well aware of.

I have to clarify that it wasn’t baiting. Suicidal ideation has been something I’ve been dealing with since I was 9 years old. I have been abused/gaslit for more of my life than I have been safe. I never wanted to say this, but they were brushing me off at a point where I was trying to find a reason to live. I had stupidly thought that they would understand what they were doing to me if I said.

5. That was the first time I had an episode like that. To say that it was baiting is to say I was lying. Let’s play devil’s advocate here.

If I were lying for attention, why would I destroy all my relationships in a single night? Why wouldn’t I make art or something along those lines? They’re big on art.

If I wasn’t, then that would mean that I was having a few bad days and they did nothing to help me… beyond condescendingly saying that I need help. I don’t blame the minors in the server, I’m talking about Ghouse, who is older than I am by around 2 years. I told them I called 988 and it didn’t really work. He continued to tell me off.

After I was kicked I was made aware that they immediately started insulting me. Whether you believe me or not, purposely attacking someone who’s mentally ill is… too far. I hadn’t done anything to them before this incident.

6. The reasons I freaked out was because I was sad that I had unintentionally hurt people, I had started a new, dangerous job, and… well, to be honest, I was terrified.

They were making me forget that I’d been hurt. I was starting to trust them. I had been starting to look forward to tomorrow. And, I was so scared that it would all be over. I didn’t know when, just that it would be.

Now, it is.

7. I may very well have been joking around with everything while on the server, but serious topics were serious. I was never “demeaning” when Ghouse was venting about something that happened to him beyond a couple of lighthearted comments. I thought they’d have the same respect for me. Again, I had confirmed multiple times that I was joking.

8. I might not have done much wrong in the Panic Room situation, but the other things that people are saying about me? I had no idea.

That was the first time I’d ever heard of them.

In the past, my autism had gone completely unchecked. some of those things were from when I was a week into being on my first server… ever. I was 17, had no idea how to check for age or even pronouns. Never used anything but tumblr, never interacted with anyone. Never went to school or even had a job at that point. I more tried to figure out everything based off of my own experiences… which was, not good. To say the least. The things I did, in my head, I thought they were “normal.” This doesn’t make it less terrible, but I hadn’t even remembered some of the incidents until someone pointed it out. It was so mundane to me—I was a messed up child. I’m sorry for this.

8. I wasn’t the best person, I really wasn’t. I didn’t know how to “mask” my traits at that time, I was excited to be able to talk to people. I was protective over my friends (my first friends! ever!) and very clingy. I didn’t know that people held characters close to their hearts, either? (When I have a favorite, I only want to hurt them, you see)

So while the doc was deliberately taking things out of context, some of the other accusations are true, unfortunately. I will be posting my DMs between me and the people on the server in my doc.

9. I have explanations for what I’ve seen of the accusations, but I don’t really recall anything from that incident over 3 years ago… if someone had told me, or even confronted me, I’d have known what was wrong. But they didn’t, and they kept talking to me like everything was normal. I was completely unaware. This is most of the reason I thought people were plotting against me—people would be cold to me and I wouldn’t know why. The worst part is that I can’t apologize. I can’t even try to rectify anything. Some of the people in that server still played PAYDAY 2 with me, some would even reply to my DMs. I had… no idea.

I have hurt people. Unknowingly, but still. I apologize to anyone I’ve affected. Most of it was not knowing how basic social media functions worked. I hope you understand that my behavior was out of line, and that I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Don’t defend me on that, I was entirely wrong. But… smearing me in the fandom tag instead of going to me directly means that they want to attack me. They don’t want an explanation.

All of my actions were genuine. I never intended to hurt anyone, but that’s what ended up happening. I’ll put more detail into the doc.

10. I was already going to take a break. I was already doing poorly, and the server knew this. At that point, they want me to go through with it. What else would they be saying when they do all of this? Unless I’m reading that wrong. Whatever the reason is, they don’t want to help me, they’re deliberately being malicious and they know I wasn’t baiting.

Although, I guess I have to thank them. Now, I can say that I wasn’t delusional. I can say that I was too smart for my own good. How crazy does it sound to think that everyone was just waiting to betray me? But… they were. I can begin to trust myself again, even if it’s accepting some of my “negative thoughts” as reality. I won’t be reaching out to anyone I don’t already know, and there is safety in never putting myself out there again.

Thank you to everybody who stuck around. My delusions… weren’t entirely correct. Just like how most of my former friends blocked me on sight, there were a few people who didn’t mind when I wasn’t responding. There are some people who believed in me to a point where even if all those accusations were true, they believed that I could change. That’s… something I never thought I’d hear, ever, in my life. That is a form of trust I don’t deserve, really.

So, I was wrong again. Not everyone wanted me gone. It took all of this for me to realize that there were people who loved me in the truest form of it.

As for everyone who cut me off… well, I hope you understand that because of my mental issues, I can never trust you beyond a professional level. It is for my own wellbeing, because I’m still not doing good. I will still be taking that break. The PAYDAY 2 fandom was a source of reprieve for me, and now it’s not. It wasn’t an accident that it turned out that way. All my safe spaces have been taken from me. I don’t know why the Panic Room server hated me, so I can’t provide any extra insight on that.

The truth is, I haven’t been around because I’ve been dealing with depression for a long time. I’ve been passively… yknow. Not actively. I haven’t had the energy to respond to anything on most days, I’m sorry for that :(

All of this was just the breaking point, really.

Thank you for reading. I know most people won’t, but I appreciate those who do. I won’t blame the rest of you if you all decide to leave as well, I understand that. I never made the blog for other people, I made it for myself. This whole thing will serve as a reminder that there are more important things than online spaces. Can’t get therapy because I’m broke, but I can enjoy the few things I still can… even if I’m reminded of what I’ve lost. I don’t think I’ll really be here anymore, but I will be okay.

[shepscapades]

Your highness… I don’t feel so good

[sendpseuds]

This [segment of a] comment that @underacalicosky left on Perfect Spiral has been on my mind since the moment I saw it and all I can think about is—

Anakin returns to the temple early from a long mission to find himself face to face with a man he doesn't recognize leaving the quarters he shares with Obi-Wan— tall, young, curls that almost touch his shoulders. Naturally, Anakin must confront this stranger who, to his horror, turns out to be a sex worker.

It’s not that Anakin has an issue with the profession, it’s just that—

"You’re here to see Obi-Wan? You were— with Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

"Look, man, I don't talk about my—“

"You will answer my questions."

"I will answer your questions."

Queue Anakin basically Force interrogating this poor man [over burgers and strong drinks because he’s not that cruel] learning things he’s definitely not ready to hear.

Obi-Wan first took him to bed almost a year ago.

He’s been tied up, spanked, made to hold what he describes as an ungodly cock in his mouth as the high Jedi general worked on battle plans and mission reports.

He describes Anakin’s master as his favorite client.

“What happens— after? You just— leave?”

“Not immediately. He’s sweet. Kind. He likes to make sure I’m okay.”

“Yeah. That sounds like—“

“But tonight— tonight was one of his sad nights. He wanted to hold me. Kept saying how much he missed me.”

Anakin is devastated. He feels like his hope is dying. Like he can’t breathe.

Until the man across the table huffs out a strange laugh.

“Well, no, not me. Obi-Wan misses him.”

“What? Who?”

“Anakin. When we’re together, he calls me Anakin.”

Obviously, chapter two is Obi-Wan’s POV, wondering why Anakin is acting so strangely until he realizes his former padawan is reenacting a scene he’s played out with his favorite sex worker, beat for beat.

[writinganon1]

@cokoweee

Ya’ll ever have a dream so lifelike it feels aggressively real until one thing goes a little too wrong and then you start to realize that maybe you’re in a dream but it’s also too real to convince yourself it’s not real that you can’t wake yourself up? 

TW: panic attack, I say gun, uhhh blood ig? Bishop says a kinda weird thing but that's just him bein him

can I say blood? last time I did it marked me as mature...

-

Her heart thumped against her chest, lactic acid building in her legs as she ran. She tapped furiously at her phone, fingers slipping over the screen as she tried to deploy Sheldon. 

Donnie says “no no no” chimed a pixilated picture of Othello, his finger waving back and forth. 

“What the-” She slammed against a wall, her shoulder crunching against the brick. 

His stupid programming on the poor thing to keep Sheldon at his house. Maybe she could override it? 

No, not enough time. She was just going to have to run and hope for the best. 

Her shoulder screamed in protest as she climbed the ladder in the alley. Scrambling over the side of the building to catch her breath, she tapped at the screen again. 

There had to be something she could do to foil his programming. She wiped at her nose, the cold still not quite gone even after days of bed rest. Bullets flew over the edge of the building, seemingly locking on to her body heat. Throwing herself at the ledge at the last second to force the bullets to crash into the wall she coughed violently, phlegm coating her throat.

Stupid sickness. 

Stupid Othello leaving her with the stupid rabbit farmer.

She pushed herself off the ground, arms struggling under the weight of herself. It was as if every muscle in her body was on fire, each fiber screaming at her to stop. She gulped raising her head over the ledge. Agent Bishop was standing on the adjacent rooftop, his face curled into a sneer, eyes unblinking despite the sun in his eyes. 

He waved at her, fingers waggling in the air as he pulled a small gun from his pocket. Aiming it directly at her chest he grinned, his eyes flickering with something distinctly unhuman. 

She stumbled backward, her feet skidding over the concrete as he seemed to lock onto her. Loose rock dug into her knees as she clambered over the rooftop. 

Away.

All she needed to do was get away. 

She placed a hand over her stomach, feeling the raised bump of the scar, as she moved.

This was…

This was wrong? 

It didn’t happen this way. 

No. She didn’t need to get away, she needed to get out. 

The bullet ripped into her skin, tearing away at muscle, and shattering the bone in her rib.

She screamed, blood pouring from the gaping hole in her chest, as Bishop moved closer. He walked to her side, footsteps clanking against the concrete. 

Clawing at the ground she dragged her body along the roof, rocks digging under her nails. Bishop laughed, his foot trampling her hand, digging it into the ground. She gasped, breathing shallowly as she fought to get loose. 

He grabbed her hair, wrapping it between his fingers and tightening his grip as he pulled her from the floor. 

“Oh, this is wonderful.” He smiled, voice dripping with venom. “Such a pretty little thing I caught this evening. I’ve been dying to chat with you.” He pulled her hair up, forcing her to rise. “I wonder if she’ll do any tricks?” 

She spat in his face, her ears filled with an all-consuming ringing. 

Away. 

She needed to get away. 

It didn’t matter how. She needed to get away. 

He said something else, flaunting some sort of mechanism he had hidden in his shirt. She tried to focus on his words, but her breathing was too shallow, her limbs too shaky, the ringing too loud for her to hear a word. 

She clamped a hand over her chest, a sorry attempt to staunch the flow of blood from the gaping hole in her body. Cursing softly she watched as the red seeped into a slithering pink fleshy mass. 

She stifled a scream as the pink turned an orange maroon, her own blood fueling some sort of monster. 

“Shhhhhhh.” Bishop whispered against her ear, “It’ll be done soon. Just one quick slash and you’ll be out of my hair for good.” 

The mass jumped forward, faster than she could comprehend, her body spasming in pain as she scrambled back.

Was this the Krang she’d heard so much about after she’d left the jail? Weren’t they supposed to be mindless or something? 

It lunged forward again, tentacles lashing toward her face. Bishop shook her in front of him, like a toy for a dog. 

“Kendra?”  

She screamed as he tightened his grip on her, shaking her around like a bag of flour. The world around her turned hazy, her vision blurring in and out. 

She wasn’t going to go out without a fight. 

Throwing her head back she jammed her skull into his chin, breaking the grip he had on her hair. 

She clawed at the ground, a strange silky feeling coating her fingers. Pushing away the softness of what was sure to be Krang, she kicked at the mass as it wiggled unnaturally. 

“KENDRA!” A familiar voice shouted at her, a gentle three-fingered nubby touch against her arm. 

Her eyes flew open, arms flailing to the sides to swat at what was left of the Krang matter, as hands held her back. She gasped, her chest heaving as a sinking feeling hit her gut. Dread splashed over her head like a wave, drowning her, leaving nothing but fear.

Eyes widening she looked next to her for Tello, horrified as darkness encroached on her vision, leaving her staring through a pin hole. Nausea rolled through her stomach as she gasped for air, her chest shuddering to keep up with her breathing. 

It hurt. It hurt so bad. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” He whispered, hand placed against her back. “It’s ok you’re home. You’re with me.” 

She jerked backward. He was loud. So so loud. Even with the ringing in her ears, he was too loud. 

Breaths were punched from her lungs faster than she could finish taking them in. Tears streamed down her face as her eyes blew wide. Her chest tightened, lungs twisting as she shook. 

She’s dying. She has to be dying. There’s no other explanation. 

Dead in her room from a nightmare-induced heart attack,  

Her eyes flickered back and forth over the room, not focusing on anything, just wildly scanning for danger she knew wasn’t there. Willing her arm to move, she let out a chocked warble. 

The room seemed to melt around her. Things blurred together, a fuzzy abstract painting of almost-real-life. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she tightened her muscles. 

Her whole body shook as she tried to take steadying breaths. 

“Did you know softshell turtles only have half a plastron?” 

She was in the middle of dying. 

She most definitely did not need turtle facts right now. 

“Technically a full one, but it’s covered by skin, rendering it effectively useless for plastron purposes.” He shrugs. “Same deal as the shell.” 

She looked at him, confusion breaking through the panic. 

“Makes us really flexible though. Wanna see?” 

He got off the bed, walked to the middle of the room, and bent backward. He smiled upside down at her from the floor and smoothly brought himself back up. 

“Pretty neat huh?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Bet no other turtle you meet could do that.” 

Amusement rippled through her as she watched him demonstrate his stretches and various yoga poses.

“I’ve never met another turtle like you.” She breathed, some of the panic melting away. 

“Precisely! No one can do it like me!” He said, pointing his finger at her triumphantly before his face softened. “ We starting to feel a bit better?” 

She brought her thumb and pointer finger close together. A little 

He nodded. “Am I good to come back up or do you need some space?” 

She patted the bed next to her, inviting him closer. She waited until he was seated comfortably before slumping against his shoulder, exhausted. 

He shifted slightly, reaching for his phone with one hand, the other wrapped around her. He let them sit for a moment, reminding her to breathe every few seconds before Sheldon zipped into the room. 

He whispered something to Othello before zooming out of the room. She watched passively as it happened, her body still not quite connected to her soul. 

Sheldon returned moments later, a bag of ice, a bottle of water, a cookie, and tub of lavender lotion in his little propeller arms. 

Othello took them from him, patted his head, and shooed him away. Taking one of the ice cubes he flattened out her hand and placed it in her palm. 

She jerked slightly at the sensation of cold in her hand, surprised when he placed another in her palm. 

“Focus on the melting.” He said, voice low and gentle. 

The ice filled the lines of her hand and dripped over the sides and down her arm. She shivered as the water pooled in her hand. Othello grabbed the cookie from the pile he had created and broke off half to give to her. 

“Thanks?”

He watched her carefully. “What does it taste like?” 

“A cookie?” She said through a mouthful, her hands still full of TV static. 

“I need details.” He pressed. 

She paused, taking a moment to consider the flavors in her mouth. “Vanilla, chocolate chips.” She took another bite. “ Like I left it in the oven a minute or two too long and overcooked them just slightly.” 

She’d have to make another batch, this time keeping an eye on the time. 

He pressed an uncapped water bottle into her hand. “Drink.” 

She pressed the bottle to her lips, feeling the way the cold blossomed against her skin as she held it there. Quietly observing the way she could feel it go down her throat and into her stomach. 

“Are we feeling more alive?” 

She nodded, running her hand along her thigh to feel the fabric of her pajama pants as she pressed her head against his side. 

“Good.” He murmured, sleep creeping into his voice. “You had a panic attack I’m pretty sure.” 

“...Sorry it was for something stupid.” 

“I get worked up over stupid stuff too.” He mumbled, eyes half closed. 

“Your stuff isn’t stupid.” She countered. 

“Then neither is yours.” 

She stopped, lifting her head to look up at him.

He grabbed her hand, flexing the fingers for her. “You feel ok?” 

“I don’t know.” She answered honestly. 

He nodded and guided her to a lying position. “Tell me five of your favorite things.” 

She paused, looking around the room. “Hmmmmm. You.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Mhm. Uhhh, lavender. The color purple. Satin jackets. Baking. Messing around in the lab. Oh, I guess that’s more than five.” 

He tapped her shoulders rhythmically, “You can keep going if you need to.” 

She took in a deep breath. “I think I’m ok now.” 

“Positive?” 

Nodding she pulled the blankets over herself. What she really needed was rest. She was so exhausted from the whole ordeal that the idea of doing anything else felt impossible. 

He got off the bed again, searching beneath the bedframe for something before he pulled a large purple blanket from under the bed. She blinked in surprise as he placed it over her, a weight holding her down to the bed. 

“I should’ve mentioned it was weighted.” 

She pulled her hand out to give a quick thumbs up as he climbed back into bed. She shifted to hold out her arm for a hug. He smiled and pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her waist. 

“You smell like you’ve been using my soap.” She grumbled against his plastron. 

He shrugged. “ I like the way you smell.” 

Rolling her eyes she tugged the blanket higher over her shoulders smiling as soft chirping filled the room, the sound he always made right as he fell asleep. 

“Good night Tello.” She whispered.

His plastron vibrated as he churred back, gently running circles through her hair. 

She was home. And she was safe.

~

squad don't write stuff at four AM I'm pretty sure this only makes sense to me at this point. Anyway I was listening to my pretty princess playlist while writing this 💁‍♀️

the reason why this was written is in the tags btw

[transformers-synergize]

robots in disguise :)

Cybertronians are masters of disguise, easily able to integrate themselves into most alien societies. Especially ones that consist of other cyber life or heavly plated alien, things cybertronians can easily mimic. When unable to mimic the native life, bots will often take advantage of halo Forms technology, creating a near-perfect solid light replica of the native life. Cybertronians also have the built-in ability to pick up and decode languages just from hearing them. with Their vocalizer being extremely flexible and able to mimic the sound of other species, and if they desire, some can mimic the voices of specific individuals.

Scouts and infiltrators are usually able to figure out how to mimic the native life's behavior and better integrate themselves. Their disguises are often imperfect, but they're usually good enough not to cause any alarm, allowing these cybertronians to integrate themselves into alien societies undetected so they can insert themselves into roles that would give them the most power and influence. This allows Cybertronians to easily take other alien planets/societies out from the inside either to destabilize them so they become non-threat or to convert Their planet into a cybertronian colonies. But if an infiltration is unsuccessful, Cybertron has enough military might they can usually enforce their will on a planet by force, if need be.

During the war, due to Cybertron's unstable state, many Cybertronian colonies were able to break free from Cybertron's control, and many civilizations whose development was purposefully stifled were able to finally Advance without Cybertrons Influence.

Course, an infiltration campaign is not the reason why our little groups of stranded Autobots and Decepticons are stuck on Earth. So, the stranded bots don't have the same tools that an infiltrators might have. On earth, they can not mimic the native life very well, They are too small and often lack any plating, but they can mimic their vehicles and other mechanical devices, but that can only help so much. Neither side Possesses a haloform generator, leaving them reliant on native beings to perform certain tasks for them and help keep their existence hidden. Barely any Bots on either side had been on an alien planet before, and the ones that have only ever really been on Cybertronian colony worlds. But, one of the stranded Autobots is an ex-infiltrator and is more than familiar with dealing with unkown alien worlds. :)

[muirmarie]

Me: I joke about writing the same McCoy centric story over and over again in different ways

Me: and like. I love doing it and imma keep doing it because it makes me happy.

Me: but also. I do sometimes wonder if it's like. A little Much.

Me: like maybe I should branch out or something

Me: [reads another fundamental and extremely insulting misread of McCoy's character by someone who is clearly making a Choice to cast McCoy as the villain, because they have to get him out of the way of spirk, because they're too???? idk immature??? to realize that even when you're in a relationship with one person, other ppl can and SHOULD still be important to you]

Me: lmao I hope I AM too much actually!!!! I hope it is 100% obnoxious how much I love that doctor!!!!! Time to write more versions of the same story of McCoy being forced to realize that he is loved and cared for!!!!!!

Me: I KNOW MY NICHE AND IMMA DIE IN THAT NICHE, THANKS

[lunar-years]

I finished reading the latest fic in the ot3 tag this morning (I should know what turns you on by Dancey96, which was absolutely incredible and very sexy and i highly highly recommend it) but there's a line in there where Keeley voices skepticism about Roy and Jamie getting together because of the power dynamic of Roy being Jamie's coach, rooted specifically in her own experience dating Jack.

And i have not been able to stop thinking about that since. Because, woah.

Like of course that dynamic between them could bring up Stuff for her and I can't believe I've never seen or thought of that take before but it is a FASCINATING idea. Especially because a lot of people (myself included) have written fics where Roy is the one really panicked about the coach-player dynamic and being in a position of influence over Jamie. I can totally see Roy acting like that, but I would now LOVE a fic where Roy and Jamie get together and are both totally okay with it and unbothered by the power dynamic aspect, but meanwhile Keeley, after they tell her, is freaking the fuck out because of her own experience with Jack and convinced Jamie is going to end up very hurt/taken advantage of even though she knows in her heart Roy isn't at all like that and it would never do anything to hurt Jamie intentionally. It's just all getting mixed up in her head and taking her back to how small she felt with Jack.

So she tries to talk to Jamie about it for her own piece of mind, but then he gets offended because he takes it as Keeley telling him he's stupid or wrong for dating Roy or think he gets hurt too easily OR that she's just jealous he got with Roy before she could. He pushes her away and they are both too harsh to each other and end up leaving the conversation hurt. But after Roy hears about it from Jamie he knows there's something more going on and demands they go to keeley's to check on her.

In this scenario, neither he nor Roy know the full context about Keeley and Jack because she hasn't opened up to them, but it ends in her doing so and the three of them having a frank and open conversation about why she's been so worried and weird about their relationship, and then they comfort her about Jack. And after actually spending time with both of them, she sees their relationship is nothing like that one was and they are being so much more responsible about it than Jack ever was, and she starts to trust it more and see how it could work (and maybe acknowledge to herself that she wants to be a part of it). :)

[ratsbanes]

i love dazai mori and dog headcanons. my specific version of this is that dazai was afraid of dogs, dazai found a dog and decided to keep it just because it wouldnt leave him alone, mori got mad that dazai just now has this dog he (mori) doesnt trust, and then the dog gets minorly sick which gives mori the opportunity to get the dog put down. so when dazai comes home he finds no dog and gets no explanation and instead gets a freshly dug grave

[qcomicsy]

Marvel writer: Then Wade get involved with monsters! And–

Me:

[cheriboms]

doctober day 23: nostalgia

fact: doc has a saxophone in his garage in both 1955 and 1985, with seemingly no ties to his scientific pursuits. hypothesis: theres some sentimental reason, maybe he played (plays?) it as a hobby since and/or prior to 1955...? conclusion: they def had at least one jam session

[[ proof of my claims >:0 ]]

[weirdo-from-bonesborough]

Tim: are you just Connie now or is Connie short for Constance?

Connie: it’s short for serving CONT

Tim:

Connie: like serving cunt

Tim: I get it.

Connie:

Tim:

Connie: yeah it’s just Connie

[death-of-cats]

real loosey goosey TWOW speculation hours:

so, my bet is that whatever stunt Euron is planning on pulling on Oldtown is going to result in not just his destruction but also that of all the Ironborn with him. combine that with Victarion getting cooked from the inside by blowing the dragonbinder horn and Aeron being sacrificed, that leaves only two Greyjoys that could plausibly rule the ironborn*, both of them in Stannis's custody.

and even though it's pretty obvious that Theon is neither physically nor mentally capable of leadership at this point, Stannis is going to look at the situation and see an older sibling trying to take something that legally should go the the younger sibling. and he's gonna get goddamn triggered over it.

*note that i said rule the ironborn, not the iron islands, b/c of my crack theory that the islands are going to get swallowed by the sea (maybe because of the Drowned God's wrath at Euron, maybe for some other reason) and are straight up not going to exist/be inhabited by the end of the series

[blujayonthewing]

I wish I had any way of knowing whether people have gotten Weirder™ about my name in recent years or if this has been happening behind the scenes the entire time

I've been going by Jay since I was 11. At the time nobody objected to or questioned this, at least not to me; I found out many years later that Jay is supposedly a "boy's name," but nobody ever said 'you can't use that as a nickname, it's a boy's name' and it went completely uncontested by anyone when I switched. Lots of kids announced some manner of name change at the start of a new school year in middle school; it was all normal and fine. My mom and, you know, grandmas and other relatives kept calling me Jessica, which was also fine! I didn't make a big family announcement or correct any relatives on this, I just wanted to differentiate myself from the half dozen other Jessicas in school.

For twenty years!! This has gone on being perfectly normal! My Real Name™ is an increasingly obscure bit of trivia I get to spring on friends who didn't realize I had one, which is always funny (my brother in law didn't believe me and demanded to see my driver's license). My mom and grandmas have largely still called me Jess, and that's also fine! It's nice, even! There's a particular intimacy there of having a name only my mother uses-- but, crucially, I have never asked her not to, or said that I don't like it. And as FAR AS I KNOW, this has all been true and fine for TWENTY YEARS.

My own feelings about it have never changed, and feel, to me, very straightforward: if I tell you that my name is Jay, and you decide that no it isn't, that is a problem. That's the rule. That's literally it. I had a high school teacher who asked on the syllabus for us to write down if we went by something other than our full name, who was nonetheless UNIQUE among all of my teachers from 6th grade onward in always and only ever calling me Jess, even though I signed all my work Jay, all the other teachers called me Jay, he literally asked whether anyone wanted to be called something else and I answered Jay, and I had him for two semesters. I met a work friend of Justin's once who asked upon introduction whether Jay was short for something, and when I told him it was short for Jessica he took it upon himself to call me Jess instead. This isn't me having a problem with any particular iteration of my name, this is just asshole behavior! I told you what my name was and you said 'no it isn't'. The problem here does not seem complex to me?

But within the last [hand wiggle] handful of years I feel like it keeps getting weirder? Apparently my dad and grandma argued about it at my wedding rehearsal-- she, dramatically, insisting 'I don't care, her name is Jessica, I'm going to call her that ;n;' and my dad angrily defensive that no it isn't, I go by Jay, that should be respected. And I'm sitting here listening to my dad relay this in utter bewilderment like. Well dad I love the energy but I have never been bothered at all if grandma calls me Jessica. I have never even once asked her not to or complained to anyone that she does. But also this is the grandma who HAS called me Jay more often than not?? My mom's mom never picked it up, but I was astonished to hear my dad's mom was acting like this was some New Dramatic Change that she Hated and not a thing she's literally already been doing for, again, twenty entire years. Why are you suddenly making it weird! Last weekend Justin's stepmom mentioned seeing my mom at the hospital where mom works, and how she said something like 'yes I'm Jessica's mom-- wait, no, Jay, she hates it when I do that' and I just?? I literally don't, the only problem now is that people who know me won't know who the fuck you're talking about

all of this and I'm just. I am literally just sitting here. why are we inventing problems out of this two decades later. what is going on

[cozylittleartblog]

I LOVE HOE YOU DRAW ROUXLS AND QUEEN SM ITS JUST SO GOOD AHHHHHHH I before didn't entirely ship queen and Rouxls, but now I do. I love how beautiful your art is and if you haven't already you NEED to see L Voids dubs of your comics, they're amazing!

thank you! enjoy the brainrot o7 and i have seen some of his dubs, he does a good job

[triptychofvoids]

made a medic photocard but didn’t size it right so i had to cut out archimedes I’M SO SORRY ARCHIE… - riddlercore

💉

[ratatatastic]

i am cringe but i am in fact free always remember that