#but they’re changing so much about themselves and it’s scary

[radios-universe]

shoutout these tags in this reblog. no one asked for an update esp because this was months ago

but if you were wondering how i was doing erm this friend ended up discovering they weren’t aro and in fact now has a bf from said discovery

so. yeah. i was cautious for so long knowing they were romance repulsed just for this to happen🚶🏻‍♀️ and im like. fully in love with this person truly in the most platonic sense sadly

but that doesn’t really hold against romance in this world so! i’ve been a little miserable recently

hence my search for aroace friends because erm. i don’t have any anymore ……

working up the courage to call my .. Platonic partner, closest friend if you will, ‘my rock’ but i’m scared it just sounds cringe

other than the fact that you can call someone your rock as a way of saying they’re a comforting person, their main nickname has already got ‘rock’ in it … so My Rock it’s like. it’s basically like saying my [their name], but with the play on words… you get it right? yeah you get it.

i cringe at everything i do . it’s so over before it’s even begun

[yanderenightmare]

TW: noncon, yandere, omegaverse, subjugation, some type of sexism, angsty, also a little fluffy?

fem reader

Discussions about superiority and inferiority between Alphas, Betas, and Omegas have become more popular lately. It’s always been many people’s opinion that the weak should cater to those stronger than them—but a debate with that as its topic is unsavory. Unfortunately, they’ve found new ways to phrase it. 

A resonating “Unmated Omegas are a danger to themselves!” garners much more sympathy…

And with the rise of people talking about it in the media, it was only natural to move the conversation into school as well.

You keep your head bowed in class as the chill runs down your spine. You feel the glare of thirty fellow students—the points of their teeth, too, and how they snicker under their breath. It’s always been rather scary being an omega, but you can’t say you’ve ever felt quite so alone.  

The teacher’s an alpha, so why should he care how what he says impacts you? He’s preaching to the choir, and you’ve never had the right to sing. The three other Omegas in your class have all chosen to stay home. They probably have the right idea—wait it out until it all blows over.

But you don’t know when that might be… You don’t know if that will be.

Society is on the precipice of critical change—new politics, new laws, new systems, new rights that separate you from them. You wallow in fear of the outcome, lying awake at night and scrolling through the news under the safety of your duvet. The statements seem endless. You wonder, why are all politicians Alphas?

You don’t want any of the things they’re suggesting—mating homes to help you find the perfect Alpha to bond with, systematic pairings done from birth, auctions. Is no one going to suggest they put shock collars on all Alphas and Betas to keep them in check? They’re the ones who need to—

“Your scent is distracting the whole class—don’t you feel ashamed?” 

It’s too easy for him to have you bent over the desk, your wrist on your back in his big fist as he wraps his tie around them. He and his goons stand around, all smiles—watching—enjoying it. It’s as if they’ve planned the whole thing, the way two of them peel away from the crowd to grab each their pick of your feet. Parting them, they use your own shoelaces to tie them to the desk legs.

The ringleader laughs. There’s an awful smell coming off him in waves—it makes you quiver. He flips your skirt up and whistles at the sight, showing everyone your ass and cotton undies. The bulge he presses against you is enough to make your tears spill despite how hard you’d fought to keep them at bay, knowing it only arouses them further.

“Aww, don’t cry, little bitch. You should be happy,” he coos, leaning over your trapped form to whisper right at your ear. “Don’t you know? You’ll never feel happier than you will bouncing on my big Alpha dick. It’s all your little Omega cunt dreams about, isn’t it?” He snickers, fiddling with his belt buckle—you flinch at every sharp clink as he jostles the metal. “Well, salvation is here—”

“Keep it to yourself.” Another voice breaks through the sounds of hollers and cheers.

Your eyes open to see him. You despise how your heart jumps in relief.

“Oi, you—” the guy at your back challenges, stepping away from you and toward the interruption.

“Yeah, me,” he states blankly, jaded. He eyes the rest of the guys with disinterest—five betas, zero threat—before telling them, “All of you. Scram.”

They all take a step to walk out as if his voice alone had compelled them, but then the previous guy interjects, making them stop in their tracks again. “Tch—you know what they’re saying. All unmated Omegas are free game, and I won this one. So back off.”

It was like watching a match of tug-of-war.

“Heh,” the intruder laughs. “That rule only counts for Alphas.”

You spot your aggressor's fists curl—there’s a growl rumbling in the back of his throat. “I am an Alpha, asshole.”

“Really?” he feigns, sizing him up with a cocky tilt of his head. “Couldn’t tell.” He doesn’t seem fazed in light of the aggression—actually, it seems to amuse him if anything. “To me, you smell no different from all these other Beta losers.” 

He takes a casual step forward, hands in his pockets and a smile on his face—baring canines with grace.

“But if you wanna prove it, I’m ready when you are.”

It’s quiet after the declaration. The betas are unsure who’s side to pick, none of them eager to get caught in the middle. It becomes a competition purely between the two Alphas.

Without backup, your aggressor backs down and leaves.

“Thought so,” your savior jeers, showing the crowd out, closing and locking the door behind them.

It’s quiet after they’ve left.

You hide your face. Listening to his footsteps approach—he sighs when taking the place of the former guy. He doesn’t touch you, though.

“Y’know…” he starts. “That guy might be trash, but he isn’t wrong…” He picks up your skirt and drapes it back in place. “None of this would ever happen if you weren’t unmated.”

You speak through grit teeth. “Untie me.”

He chuckles familiarly at that, clicking his tongue at you. “What? Aren’t you gonna say please?” But he does what you say anyway. Squatting down, he starts with your ankles.

The scent of your fear still lingers in the air despite your tough act. You’ve always been so steadfast, ever since you were kids, even when it does you no good. He frees your feet—one, then the other, slowly—he even reties your laces into pretty bows before he’s done. 

He remembers it being so obvious. The sun rose in the morning and the moon at night, and you were supposed to be an Alpha while he a Beta at best. You promised you’d be by his side to keep him safe forever, and he wanted nothing more.

But then puberty hit, and nothing was as you’d imagined.

He stands and unknots the tie keeping your wrists restrained.

You immediately push him off—already storming away.

“Do I get no thank you, no nothing? Always so stubborn—” He grabs your arm.

You spin around, an unnatural snarl on your face. “Let go!”

You’d have been a terrifying Alpha. But as fate has it, you’re not. And you shouldn’t act like it. It only lands you in trouble.

But he doesn’t say that. 

“You been watchin’ the news?” he says instead, ignoring your cry and keeping a firm grip on your arm. “Seems like auctions are winning the voters. You know what that means?”

He feels you flinch, followed by a quiver. He can tell. No matter how good you are at hiding it. He can see—the way you’re fraying at the edges, barely holding it together. Always acting so strong. He can’t tell whether you enjoy torturing yourself or if you’re just that good at convincing yourself you’re fine.

“Pretty soon, new authorities are gonna come storming in here, roundin’ up every sorry unmated Omega they find, and put ‘em all on a farm where pompous Alphas can have their pick of the litter.”

He can never tell what you’re thinking, but he knows he doesn’t need to tell you any of this. You’re not stupid, you never have been. He knows you already know. But…

“You should decide now while it’s still your choice.” 

You must be terrified. He understands. But truly… it’s obvious what you have to do, isn’t it?

“It’s not like you have many options.”

It’s obvious. It always has been.

You don’t meet his eyes. You haven’t for a long while. Actually, you haven't since both of you got your test results. He understands this wasn’t what you had in mind, but you can’t afford to mope about it forever—

“How am I supposed to choose any Alpha when you’re all such assholes…”

Your mutter stunts him. It wasn’t what he expected. Or, the words were more or less exactly something he’d expect from you, but that voice—quiet and soft, dangling on the brink of sweet. If you’d said anything else, he’d have taken it as a confession.

“Can't argue with that,” he ends up chuckling again.

You hate how easy this is for him. He would cry at every turn when you were kids. It’s unfair. 

“But you can’t keep doing this, either,” he states. His voice is soft, paired with that ugly authority they all have when talking to you—talking down to you. “Just look where it gets you—scared and exhausted because of it. At least have the brains to stay home.” He says it as if it’s a joke, but you both know it isn’t. His chuckles are light—far from fullhearted.

He bends down, trying to find your eyes. He still holds onto your arm, knowing you’d sooner stomp away than listen to him. His other hand brushes your cheek gently, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“You hear the call from the rafters—it’s not about what you want anymore. It’s about what you need.”

That’s what they say, isn’t it? What you need. You want to slap him. Scratch him with claws, bite his throat out—make him choke on his own words. Need? What you need is for them all to fuck off.

You mean to say it with the same sentiment, but something hard and rough in your throat makes all your words come out wobbly. “Mate an Alpha to stay safe from other Alphas. What a joke.”

You bow your head further. The tears return. They burn as they trail down the sore streaks from before.

He’s never seen you like this. He won’t lie, it makes his pants tight—feeling the urge to suck your cheeks, hold you close and comfort you. But knowing you right, you’d probably never let him. Your face would probably scrunch up in disgust, punch his gut, knee his groin, then turn on your heel and leave him on the floor wheezing.

You really would have made the most terrifying Alpha. 

“The world isn’t fair,” he agrees. “But you get nowhere cryin’ about it—do it my way, and you’ll never—”

“Have any freedom,” you cut him off with a sniffle. 

It’s about the most adorable thing he’s seen in his life.

He gets why you don’t like Alphas—they’re all gross. He makes himself sick sometimes. He can’t believe he’s getting off on watching you have a mental breakdown. There’s something seriously wrong with his side of the species. His throat’s tight, mouth watery with the urge to reap your vulnerability. 

Suppressing it only makes his inner beast furious. Some of that aggression comes out in his next words.

“I’m sorry, but the world doesn’t give a shit about your freedom.” 

The grip around your arm tightens, and you look up in shock—watching his narrowed eyes through your watery ones. 

“What you need is safety—now more than ever. Or do you like being preyed on by every Alpha around the corner?” 

Your bottom lip trembles at the reality of it—a little while ago, you were almost— 

“One of these days, I'm not gonna be here in time, and you’ll be a slave to some fucking—” 

He huffs and hangs his head. His hand loosens up—it trembles where he holds you in place.

“In all honesty, I think I’m more scared than you,” he whispers under his breath. “I think I might kill—”

He stops himself again. You don’t know if it’s in an effort not to frighten you or himself.

“Speak about needs…” he begins anew, now softer. “I need to know you’re safe. I need to—” He looks up. His eyes are back to being round. “I need you more than you need me, probably.”

There’s a desperation on his face. It almost looks like he’s on the verge of tears himself.

“So… please?” he begs. “Will you keep me safe like you promised and stay by my side?”

Your tears dry and prickle. Looking into his eyes now, you see the same boy you knew back in your childhood—that one who’d chase you all over even when you’d call him a sniveling crybaby. You realize, Alpha or not, he hadn’t changed all that much at all. 

“It’s not like you need my permission,” you end up saying.

You’ve always been so hard-headed. He has to smile. “No, but I want it.”

You nibble your lip. You can’t believe you’re at the mercy of this big dumb hunk of… you don’t have the words to describe him. He wasn’t exactly a crybaby anymore. 

“Okay. You win.” 

His eyes widen as you bear your neck with a stretch. Head high and shoulders slack. 

You swallow thickly. “Get it over with.”

He shudders at the sight. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but now it almost seemed too soon. 

“We should be supervised by a professional—you know how wrong things can go—”

“Hurry up before I change my mind.” Your eyes remain shut, and your lips pursed.

His tongue grows thick in his mouth at your bark. A sudden stroke of performance anxiety makes his palms sweaty, hands heavy and shaking. But then the sight of your soft neck has his mood shift, becoming drowsy.

He has no control over the growl that begins rumbling from his gut.

But he doesn’t apologize for it either.

He bends forward—breaths on your chest before he licks your throat. You can’t help but whimper at the warmth. He watches you through hooded eyes—your usually angry face is now all cute, riddled with anxiety you try hiding paired with the grim anticipation of pain.

“Shh,” he soothes, kissing the spot softly. He sways you against him, then lifts you up on the desk for you to sit. Grazing your neck with teeth when feeling your hands tangle two fistfuls of his shirt. He expects you to push him away, but you don’t—you tug him closer instead as if silently telling him to hurry up.

But he doesn’t want to rush, doesn’t want to lose himself—that’s how accidents happen. So he sticks to sucking gently, only tiny nibbles that leave your skin hot and lightly bruised in their wake.

You give a moan once he finds the spot, and he growls in restraint upon the pretty sound—feeling you relax despite being threatened with his teeth right at your artery. He almost humps your leg in return, feeling the boil of blood pump him hot and heavy in his pants—breaths turning equally hot and heavy, each one laced with rust.

Drool coated your neck in a cool sheen, soothing the marks made beneath it, while his lips and fangs aroused pleasure in the spot that now ached for the sting of his bite.

“Please,” slipped from your mouth while tugging him closer. 

His eyes, completely drunk on the pretty prayer, had only a slim rim of color left surrounding the hungering bottomless pits, blown full and black with opium.

No one could come and take you away from him now. Not with his print so pretty on your neck. You were his—just as you were always supposed to be.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Natsuo, Amajiki, Mirio ♡ JJK – Yuji, Yuuta ♡ HQ – Kuro, Miya twins ♡ DS – Tanjiro, Zenitsu

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[ducktracy]

there are a lot of evil people in the world and a lot of darkness in the world and so it’s very important for me to stress that now more than ever is the time to spread kindness and compassion. combat the evil by not only not partaking in it, but actively refuting it. destroy the notion that being compassionate or generous or kind to someone is uncool or embarrassing or even scary. be the change you want to see. start a chain reaction. positivity only breeds more positivity. do an act of kindness for someone so that that person who is too afraid to do it themselves can see you, realize that they’re not alone, and perhaps sheepishly follow your example. and then the next person who is too afraid but sees that person can do the same. when bad news comes out about bad people or horrible atrocities in the world it’s such an easy impulse to despair, and obviously it’s important to feel what you need to feel. grieve. be angry. be sorrowful. be empathetic. but dust off your pants and get up and be a part of a chain reaction that, no matter how small the scale, and spread compassion and love and care. all the reasons why you might not—“it’s hard! it’s scary! people will make fun of me! it’s useless because there’s too much evil!” are all grade A arguments as to why you should. you have no idea how many people you could inspire to do the same. even if it doesn’t get you anyway far, you can at least say you have the nobility of trying. please choose love and please choose life. you are worth loving and you are worth inspiring others to love

[juniperhillpatient]

I have talked about this a lot before but it’s on my mind & also it’s something that really should be discussed more in Buffy fandom -

People are constantly talking about how Spike defies all the rules Buffy was taught about demons & vampires & rightfully so. A vampire falling in love with a slayer & fighting for his soul for her is such a romantic notion & I do love it but the nuance of Spike’s arc is even more interesting than that! He does love Buffy but not only that he befriends the Scoobies too. He brings flowers for Joyce after she dies. He helps prove that Tara is not a demon when her family tries to gaslight her & isolate her. He becomes a pseudo big brother to Dawn.

And yet none of that is even what I’m here to talk about! Spike IS a hero & he does have a long spanning redemption arc before the soul (& we’re NOT here to talk about Seeing Red right now, as usual that topic is too expansive & requires its own post) that should be acknowledged & his character is rightfully praised but he is NOT the only exception to vampires having nuance & it drives me crazy that we act like he is. The Judge isn’t just talking to Spike when he says this:

“You TWO.” He’s talking about Drusilla too! He says that they share affection & jealousy. That Angelus in his total sociopathic lack of human emotion is the odd one here.

Then you have things like this -

Conversations with Dead People has Buffy sharing a very long & deep conversation with an old acquaintance turned vampire. And it’s far from the only example in universe of a vampire retaining some sense of camaraderie with people from their life!

That’s right this entire rant has been a lead up to talk about my best girly Harmony Kendall. You’ve fallen for my ruse if you’ve read this far muahaha! Admittedly Harmony’s strongest moments are mostly unfortunately on Angel but even in season four of Buffy when she dates Spike she is clearly intended at times to be sympathetic. Season 4 is also interesting because we see a lot interactions between various gangs of vampires like Harmony’s so-called minions & even Sundays gang where they’re very much evil but also sharing in living (existing?) space & acting like bickering roommates or siblings. Like creatures with bonds & personalities & intricacies.

The point I’m trying to make is that the show never truly wants to grapple with the existence of Spike in all his nuance but it’s also not just about him! In general there is so much to grapple with in the idea that vampires can change & be redeemed & I’m not saying I’m anti scary evil vampires I’m just saying the universe gave us these hints of nuance & then the characters never grappled with it & that’s lame. For Buffy killing things that have a shot at redemption however small would be a major emotional blow if she ever addressed it! Especially in her season 5 “am I just a killer 🥺” arc. Let’s deal with the implications!

Let’s deal with Xander’s trauma about killing Jessie & just how much it would/should hurt for him to see Spike increasingly choose good & work with the Scoobies. I would LOVE to know Xander’s reaction to Harmony’s arc on Angel or Cordelia befriending her & letting her go ina world where the writing acknowledges that he drove a stake through his best friends heart!

It’s just that the writers accidentally complicated their own lore & then totally refused to ever let their characters address what the cracks in the stories they tell themselves mean. Giles says that a vampire is no longer the person but instead the thing that killed them. What’s scarier: the idea that your loved one was killed & something wears their face like a mask OR much more insane (to me) the idea that your loved one came back very wrong but it’s still them? Your brother eats people now but he still remembers how you like your eggs & can quote every episode of the cartoon you watched as kids. Your mom murdered that woman from the PTA who always talked too much in cold blood but she still remembers the recipe for your favorite pancakes. The show wanted scary vampires but it got so caught up in never addressing the infinitely more complex & scarier vampires it accidentally created & sticking to the more simplistic initial idea that it did both the characters & lore very dirty. And I’ll never shut up about it!!!

[ametrictonofaudacity]

Hi! I love your blog so much. I was hoping you could write what yandere!batfam would do if the reader just barricaded themselves in a room and does everything to make sure batfam can't get in. I hope you have a great day and drink plenty of water.

Thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my blog, and I am absolutely going to do a snippet for this!

Warnings: (implied) hunger striking, captivity, themes of obsession, violence, and threats of restraints as well as physically restraining someone.

“You know that’s only going to hold us out for so long, right?”

It’s Jason. You don’t respond, keeping silent. It was just another trick, you knew, to get you to open the door.

Not that they only needed a door. You’d shoved the massive bookcase in front of the window, shoving your bed in front of it. Your desk, and the final bookshelf, had gone to block the door.

You had no doubt it wouldn’t hold them long. It just had to hold them long enough.

“Come on, kid, think about this. Open the door, and I’ll try and talk the old man down from taking the damn door off it’s hinges.”

You hiss softly in alarm, because you had thought Bruce was gone. You thought he was away, in Nepal, in a business trip. Otherwise there was no possible way you would have been able to pull this off, you knew.

“You didn’t know the old man was back? He got a call from Dickiebird, he’s on his way to the Manor as we speak, kid. You really want him to start breaking down the door? He will, you know it.”

You keep quiet, fingers buried in the soft carpet, and try to focus. Try to breath. Bruce being here changed things. Dick being here changed things.

“Who’s all in the Manor?”

You manage to croak out, and Jason pauses.

“Not sure I should be telling you that, kid. I’ll cut you a deal, though. Tell me why you’re pulling out the anti-siege tactics and I’ll tell you some names.”

You shake your head, before you remember that Jason couldn’t see you. That was fine.

“No deal.”

You weren’t going to be explaining to them that you felt suffocated, more often than not. That they were always there, constantly hovering, a hand on your shoulder or an arm linked around yours. That you had so little agency that you felt you were going insane, on a good day.

“Then guess you’re gonna be in the dark. Head up, though. Golden Boy’s pissed.”

That manages to rip the air from your lungs. Dick was scary as hell when he got angry, scary enough that out of all your siblings captors, his anger would immediately send you into a near frenzy. He got fucking mean when he was mad, and he knew how to use his words to cut to the bone.

“What and you aren’t?” You taunt, frantically trying to stop the way your heart thunders in your ears and the way your blood pulses in your veins.

“Oh no, I’m pissed. Pissed enough I’m keeping this door between the two of us, because I don’t want to traumatize ya.” It’s- it’s almost cheerful, the way he says it, so matter of fact, but the words are phrased in a way that you know they’re true. Every syllable is tense and clipped, not quite grit out and hidden behind the easygoing bluster.

“Yeah, well, I’m also pretty into keeping the door between us.” You snap, because you are impulsive and dumb and holy shit you did not think this through.

You hear the faintest sound from Jason, and when he speaks again, his voice is sharp, sharp enough you cringe back and try not to panic.

“I fucking bet, you brat. What exactly are you planning to get out of this, huh? Planning on going on a hunger strike or something?”

The door rattles in the frame, and you yelp, alarmed.

A sigh, and when Jason speaks again, it’s softer. Cajoling.

“Listen. Bruce and Golden Boy are gonna be here soon. We can do this two ways. You either open the door, apologize to me for being an absolute menace and driving me insane, or it gets busted down, and you leave the room anyways, except with a lot more yelling and a lot higher chance of Bruce not letting you out of his sight for months. Literally.”

You bite your lip, hands fisted in the rug.

“I’m not opening the door, Jason.”

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You hear his footsteps leave. For a second, you take a moment to breathe, air whistling between your teeth, the AC loud in the quiet room.

“Open the door.”

You jump, nearly leaping a foot in the air, and the startled sound dies in your chest, eyes wide.

Bruce. Bruce was on the other side of the door, right now, and he was pissed. Pissed enough that his voice had that gravelly, rough quality it got when he was being stern and already mad as hell but trying not to show it.

“No.”

Your voice sounds small, even to you. You try to ignore it.

The door rattles on it’s hinges. It seemed, with a locked door and several heavy oak dressers between you and him, he was determined to move both. It rattles again, this time louder, and you shriek in alarm when the desk creaks. How fucking hard was Bruce hitting it?

“(Y/N), unless you want me to break this door down, open the door.” Bruce sighs after he speaks, and then breathes in, like he was trying to calm himself down.

“I know you’re scared right now. But just open the door and come out, and we can talk about why you did this, okay? I’m sorry I frightened you.”

You feel tears prick at the side of your face, feel the anxiety and the nervousness and the fear. You want to shake your head.

You don’t say anything, and he sighs again.

This time, it’s not just the door that rattles. The desk shudders, straining against the weight thrown against it, and the shelf creaks, then sways.

You’re smart enough to back up and away before it comes crashing down. Not that you don’t doubt Bruce knew you were away from the shelf, or he never would have risked toppling the heavy thing.

When he ducks through the doorway, picking his way over the shattered desk and shelf, you back away, hands trembling. He pauses.

“(Y/N). Why don’t you come over here so we can clean the mess up, and we can talk about this in a bit? Just take a breath, okay? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head. It makes some of the anger drain from his features, that you weren’t hurt, but you don’t get any closer and his lips press into a thin line.

“(Y/N). Come here.”

It’s stern. It reminds you of the same voice he uses every time you try and escape or fight with your siblings. It makes your stomach twist.

Your eyes flick to the door, and Dick, who was standing not far from the door way, sharp blue eyes watching you for any movement.

You make your decision, swallow, and ease forward.

Warm arms wrap around you the second you’re in reach, pressing you against Bruce’s chest, and you feel a bit of the tension in his shoulders unwind, just barely.

“This isn’t happening again, (Y/N). Do you understand me? What if you had gotten hurt, when the shelf came down? What if you had gotten hurt when you were in here and couldn’t say anything?”

Bruce was pissed, and he grips you tightly, tightly enough that you squirm in his hold, which only makes him grip you tighter.

“I wouldn’t have gotten myself hurt! It’s practically an empty room half the time, what could I have hurt myself with?”

God, you hated it when your mouth ran faster than your thoughts.

“That’s not what matters.” Dick cuts in. “The issue is that you could’ve, and we couldn’t have done anything about it!”

He pissed, practically spitting out the words, and you can hear Bruce’s frown.

“Dick, you need to calm down.”

“No! This is the fifth time this month they’ve tried something, you have to do something, Bruce! It’s stressing everyone out!”

You open your mouth to argue, ready to defend yourself because you hadn’t asked for any of this, but Bruce speaks before you can.

“I will.”

And suddenly you are far more preoccupied with trying to prevent Bruce from picking you up, twisting and squirming to get away, but he catches you easily. He presses you against him, this time the action restraining, and lifts, taking your feet off the ground.

The entire trip through the Manor, you are twisting and pushing against him, trying to escape. You nearly get close, once, when he was adjusting his hold and you had snapped your teeth at him, but Dick had lurched froward for a moment and it had startled you so badly that you had frozen, giving him time to readjust.

You’re dumped on a medical cot, and when you see the straps on either side, it nearly takes the both of them to hold you down long enough to get them on. Bruce looks pained the entire time, as you kick and flail, and when they’re both done, your arms are strapped securely enough that yanking on them does nothing.

“Stop. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Bruce frowns, and then sighs, moving the cot. You’re moved with it, and you glare. “This is only temporary until we find a more permanent solution, (Y/N). Until we can trust you not to be a danger to yourself, alright? It won’t last long.”

Dick doesn’t look like he agrees.

You don’t either.

[hadesrise]

𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄.

summary ➳ you unexpectedly defend barty from your friends.

pairings ➳ bartemius “barty” crouch jr. x hufflepuff!male reader

warnings ➳ sfw content, foul language, sunshine and sunshine protector trope, discrimination, asshole friends, friends to lovers, badassery lol, people are a lot prejudiced in this

author’s note ➳ i headcanon him as ravenclaw, sorry. also i think hufflepuffs are scary as fuck when they’re mad. I DO NOT HATE LILY OR JAMES AND SIRIUS. please don't misunderstand that 🥲

Unpleasant whispers filled the Great Hall particularly from Gryffindor’s table as everyone watched the little-to-no-good trio take a seat on the Hufflepuff’s table and settle themselves there uncaring of the whispers, Barty sitting down right beside you while Evan and Regulus sat on the opposite side. Despite noticing the unpleasant looks being thrown at your company, you smiled at Barty after seeing how comfortable and relaxed he seemed.

“Hey, B.” You softly greeted, eyes twinkling in admiration and cheerfulness. “Nice to see you guys too, Evan and Regulus.” Greeting politely, Evan and Regulus each sent you a small smile before falling into a calm conversation with one another, which made you wonder why they’re here in the first place, but you figured it’s because Barty’s here.

“Well, (Y/n). How’s your potions class?” Barty questioned, starting off with casual conversation while beginning to eat.

The Marauders watched as you respond to Barty with a kind smile on your face and not an ounce of hatred nor distaste for being surrounded by the three most infamous persons in Hogwarts, aside from Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy, and Bellatrix Black. The softness of your expression didn’t even change. No one understands how a golden boy like you could hang out with people like... them, considering you’re the most kindest, softest, brightest person Hogwarts has ever had. You’re easily approachable and has the heart of gold that is almost impossible to be tainted, treating everyone equally while plastering on that pleasant smile of yours.

You’re practically a walking safe space for everyone. Reliable, trustworthy, loyal, patient, generous, kind, humorous, ambitious, all of them combined is what you are — a perfect person.

Or at least, that’s how others perceive you. Though, it’s not their fault for seeing you like that, you figured.

The way you’ve presented yourself in public is probably why they think of you as this perfect and divine person that is always good and never evil. You’re kind of flattered by them, but it also makes you feel as if expectations are squeezing down your throat hard.

“How the fuck does he tolerate him?” Sirius Black exclaimed in genuine confusion, referring to you engaging in conversations with a guy who clearly meant bad news.

“Language,” Remus Lupin, without looking up from his book, scolded gently. “I’m sure it’s because (Y/n) has more patience than you. He also doesn’t seem to care what other people say about him.”

“But it’s not good for him to be hanging out with him, don’t you think?” Lily Evans worriedly spoke from beside Remus as Marlene Mckinnon, who sat by her side, nodded in agreement. They knew how nice you are, so seeing you carelessly talk to Barty without hesitation makes them worried, especially when Barty’s practically apart of the Slytherins that are far from pleasant from how much time he spends with them instead of his own house. They knew him, and he definitely cannot be called a good person.

“Uhm... We don’t know for sure.” Peter shrugs, “I mean, it’s really not for us to decide who he should hang out with.”

“Peter’s right,” Remus immediately agreed, “There’s not much we can do if he’s hanging out with them. It’s not our business, and even though (Y/n)’s kind, I don’t think he would appreciate anyone butting their heads into his business. After all, he has his own thoughts.”

Even then, Lily was worried while Sirius did not understand. They returned their attention to you and Barty after hearing your laughter erupt in the Great Hall amongst murmurs and talkings of other students, seeing you playfully punching Barty’s arm and him having an overly amused and proud look on his face for making you laugh. You seem to be fairly enjoying yourself in Remus’ and Peter’s perspective, but of course, those who have a childish disdain towards Slytherin and their associates would rather be blind to it than face the reality.

You’re clearly happy with having Barty as a friend and certainly doesn’t mind who he hangs out with; endlessly friendly and nice to his two best friends, even greeting them with a warm smile. As a matter of fact, it made you seem more matured than anyone else, how you never discriminate, judge, accuse and hate anyone based on their house, rumors, or impressions. You see everyone for who they are, not what people think of them as.

Resting his elbow on the table and chin on his palm, Barty simply admire you as you talk about your day while putting some meals on his plate, making sure none of the meals contained his least favorite food. “Defense against the Dark Arts is such an entertaining lesson, B. It certainly levels up my defensive spells. I’ve been practicing them where no one will get harmed and proudly, I’ve improved a lot.” You told with utter excitement as you finished putting meals on his plate, moving to put some on your plate next. “I could show you later if you want? And perhaps, you can give me feedbacks on what I should work on.”

Barty was almost too busy admiring you, though he was quick to respond. “That’s a brilliant idea, (Y/n). Maybe we could even duel once you’ve mastered it."

You winced, “Can you not go hard on me? I’m still not confident with my duelling, you know.”

“Oh well, confidence is the key!” Barty says with excitement, genuinely wanting to duel with you. “You should try being full of yourself and think, “I can fucking do this” ‘cause it works. That’s how I got pass that bloody awful Divination class.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head, as if it was the worst ever experience of his life.

A giggle erupted from your throat, which made Barty’s lips twitch up to form a smile. It may be unexpected to others, but to you, Barty always smiled and you witnessed every single one of those moments.

“Professor McGonagall will hex you if she hears that,” You joked while still laughing, leaning on him.

He wraps an arm around your shoulder to keep you on his side, grinning. “That’s just an if, you know.” Wiggling his brows, you giggled at his silliness and also wrapped an arm around his waist naturally, gaining a few raised brows and looks from other houses.

Evan and Regulus merely smiled at your interaction before scowling and exchanging eye contact, people’s reactions catching their attention despite being mild. It’s absolutely unpleasant, how they look at you and Barty as if you’re doing something criminal. They look at you with such disapproval that couldn’t help but cause Evan and Regulus to furrow their brows and narrow their eyes — it’s almost unbelievable how everyone loves you when you’re with your own house, Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw, but when you hang out with Slytherin or anyone close to them, you’re suddenly unlikable. As if you were the Public’s property, like you’re supposed to do what they tell you to do. It feels almost as if they want to control who you hang out with.

It’s more than unpleasant, the two Slytherin thought. It’s awful, how everyone seemingly wants you to act the way they expect you to.

Do you even realize the way those people who you consider friends look at you whenever you hang out with Barty? Have you ever looked around to see their eyes screaming disappointment? What would you think once you notice?

Barty seemed to be putting all his trust in you, nearly taking his heart out for you to carry it around; they don’t want their best friend to lose someone who’s literally the safe place and comfort zone. They were worried about Barty, but also worried for you.

Unfortunatelly, worrying made them miss the way you piercingly stared at someone who looked at Barty with disgust when he wasn’t looking, before plastering on an angelic smile to your best friend as soon as the bastard flinched and looked away.

I hope no one attempts to cut my patience off today, you thought with a smile while listening to him talk enthusiastically about the fun time he messed with Lucius’ potion so bad that it exploded on Snape, not knowing you’ll be in for a surprise later on.

“What are you up to later?” Evan questioned as the three of them strolled through the hallway and ignored the obnoxious pranksters with red and gold tie, trying to find a place where peace actually exists and no judgmental look from anyone.

“Studying with (Y/n).” Barty grins, holding up a pile of books. There seems to be little unnoticeable bounces in his steps as excitement bubbles within him.

Regulus gives him a weird look, “Are you pretending to be stupid so you could study with him?”

“What’s the matter with it? It’s not like he’ll know.”

“You are literally a Ravenclaw.”

“Don’t stereotype me, Reg. It’s getting old, you’re old.”

“You’re making it seem as if he’s that stupid enough not to know you’re just pretending.”

An offended gasp was heard.

“No, I am not!”

Evan chuckled at their playful banter.

Despite Regulus seemingly making fun of Barty’s tactics to spend more time with you, Evan knew he was internally happy for their best friend. The heavy expectations from his father has been taking a toll on Barty a lot, which caused some inner doubts to appear that almost always led to mental breakdowns that lasted longer than an hour. He never had been comfortable with anyone besides them and Pandora, and they were truly happy when you accepted Barty warmly without caring about the rumors or how people viewed him. It feels quite relieving to see Barty radiate happiness now.

However, the three of them comes to a halt in the hallway when a voice filled with dislike erupts from the courtyard, asking a particular question to a person no other than you.

“How can you even hang out with people like them?”

Barty, Evan, and Regulus glanced at one another before walking silently closer and peeking at the courtyard, seeing you sat on the cemented bench while playing Wizard’s Chess with Marlene, surrounded by your friends who were mostly Gryffindors. There’s only one Ravenclaw, the same house as Barty, yet he’s the one who questioned it.

You got distracted to his question as you tilt your head, “What are you talking about?”

The trio quickly ducks when the Marauders come running out of other hallways to the courtyard with loud laughters, definitely disturbing other students, and join you by the bench. Quickly noticing the strange silence, Remus tilted his head. “Why is everyone so quiet?”

“Because Leo asked how (Y/n) can even hang out with people like them.” Marlene explains shortly with emphasis, which let everyone know exactly who they were talking about.

The werewolf sighs, covering his face and shaking his head. “We’re talking about this again?”

Barty wondered how much had he and his friends been the subject of your conversation, guts twisting negatively.

“I still don’t know who you’re referring to,” You chimed in with visible confusion, now forgetting about the chess. Silence fills all of them, the Marauders and Lily glancing at each other as Marlene also can’t help but forget the chess, while your other Gryffindor friends look at you as if it’s strange that you don’t know what they’re talking about.

The Ravenclaw — Leo gives you a look, “Are you dense? I’m talking about Barty Crouch Jr. and his little goons.” He rolled his eyes.

You frowned, “They have a name, you know. Regulus Black and Evan Rosier.”

Barty recognized the discomfort and disapproval in your tone, how you seemingly understood quickly that Leo intends to talk ill about them. He didn’t miss the way your shoulders tensed and body language displaying a defensive gesture, which rarely ever happens. You’re always accepting and welcoming of other people with that big smile plastered on your face; when your body language changes, that just means someone had overstepped your boundaries. No one else seem to realize it.

One of the Gryffindors, Beth, rolls her eyes and gives you a disgusted look. “I don’t know how you can be nice to those Death Eater freaks. Slytherins are literally evil, look at their ancestors!”

“Yeah, they also pick on almost everyone.” Karen agreed, crossing her arms. “I mean, can’t you see how much bad influence they are? Barty’s supposed to be hanging out with members from his own house yet here he is, and look how he turned out.”

“I bet his father’s really disappointed and disgusted." Leo snickered, earning laughter from the two Gryffindor girls.

Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas pulsed their lips into a thin line as Remus and Peter frowned, clearly uncomfortable with the insults and comments that crosses the line, while James and Sirius fell silent since even though they had personal dislike for Slytherin, they wouldn’t go as far as your friends were going. Regulus is also Sirius’ brother, and he doesn’t like hearing anyone talk about his little brother like that.

When Sirius opened his mouth to defend his brother, the words end up being stuck in his throat after witnessing how your warm look morphed into an emotionless and expressionless face that made his blood run cold.

“You guys are fucking pathetic,” You snarled with a low and cold yet loud tone that had made the entire courtyard fall into utter silence as everyone — including others who were just around — look at you with wide shocked eyes. Your friends visibly flinched at the piercing harsh glare you were shooting them, calm storms of rage swarming in your eyes that usually displayed warmness and light. They could easily see the way your jaw was clenching, which was definitely a sign that they dug their own graves for strong lightning to strike them until they’re nothing but bones and flesh.

Barty also stops in track, finding himself surprisingly intimidated and a bit afraid. Regulus completely went still as Evan slapped a hand over his mouth in shock. It’s already surprising that a Hufflepuff cursed at someone, but to see you, someone who’s always smiling and accepting and kind and unbelievably patient, someone who’s the Golden Boy and practically a gift from divine beings who seemed as if you don’t even know how to get mad, so enraged? It is beyond jawdropping.

“What—” Karen speaks, but you interrupt.

“Have you ever realized how annoying you all sound when you mind my business rather than your own?” You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “It sounds like pathetic cunts who pretend they’re righteous when all they’ve ever been are prejudiced hypocrites who judge others solely on the houses they’re in. You’re much more horrible than the Death Eater freaks you talk about.”

“What the bloody hell is your problem!?” Beth shrieked.

“You and your goons, duh.” You retorted while shooting her a look, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Mistreating Slytherins for what their ancestors did is completely childish and immature, especially when it was out of their control. If their ancestors joined the Death Eaters, then the one to be blamed is not them but the ancestors themselves.” You shifted your cold gaze to Leo and Karen, “Yes, I’ve seen the three of them pick on others and told Bartemius to stop, which he did. James and Sirius pick on Snape and other Slytherins a lot, so why haven’t you barked about that yet? Is this that thing where it’s alright when you or other Gryffindors do it, but it’s suddenly evil and horrible when it comes to Slytherin?”

Karen swallows thickly, trying to hold her head high. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Really?” Your mocking tone implied you believed nothing as you stand up from the bench, leaning closer to her. She avoided eye contact, fearful. “What the fuck did you mean then?” The slow tone made you even more intimidating.

“Why are you mad at us?” Leo asked, intimidated. “We haven’t done anything wrong.”

You shot him a side-eye, raising your brows. “Think with your brain, Ravenclaw. Why am I mad exactly and are you certain you haven’t done anything wrong?” You plastered on a fake smile, “Honestly, I’m not actually mad, Leo. I’m enraged. My blood’s boiling within my body. I’m certain you know what enraged means as you’re a clever Ravenclaw, don’t you?”

He bit his lip and looked down in shame.

Barty’s mouth fell agape; what the fuck, he didn’t know you can be so sarcastic like this.

Sighing deeply, you stared at him from head to toe and tilted your head, the corner of your lips twisted up. “Bartemius is clearly wiser and smarter, though.” You shrugged, “At least he knows not to befriend a loser like you.”

Lily steps closer to stop you, “(Y/n)... I think that’s enough.”

“Not precisely, Evans. And don’t think I don’t know about how you think of Bartemius as well.” You look at her, unimpressed.

“We were just worried about you...” She whispered.

“What’s there to be worried of?” You snapped. “You are all treating Bartemius as if he and his friends are cold-blooded murderers. You see someone hanging out with people in green and silver tie and your first thought is they’re horrible. The reason they become evil and horrible is because of people like you. Because you can’t and refuse to believe there’s good in them, because you would rather believe they can be anything but good than actually see who they are. You can’t handle being non-judgmental.”

Remus and Peter couldn’t help but smile at the truth in your words. The others still can’t react to your unusual change.

You sneered at your former friends, “And I hope you know you’re fucking pathetic and disgusting.” Utter disdain filled your expression, “Find someone else to cling onto. I’d rather be with Bartemius than you cunts.” Barty smiles happily at that as he subconsciously slips out of the shadow and into the courtyard. Regulus and Evan follows, standing a couple of steps behind. The Marauders noticed them immediately, eyes widening.

Ignoring the tears blimming in the Gryffindors’ eyes, you turn around only to face them back again, stepping closer with a death glare. “By the way, Leo. You ever insult Bartemius like that again with that filthy mouth of yours and I’ll fucking hex you.” You threatened before stepping back and waving goodbye with a seemingly friendly smile.

Everyone watch you turn around and jump slightly after bumping into Barty, who instantly beamed with happiness and joy radiating off of him, another thing that flabbergasted everyone.

“Oh Merlin! Hey, B!” You greet with the welcoming look now back on your expression, smiling warmly. “How long have you been standing there? And Regulus and Evan too.”

“Since the beginning, although we were hiding before you defended us.” Barty chuckled, his friends smiling behind him. He was trying to seem casual, but everyone noticed how he failed to hide the smile that’s been threatening to spread fully across his face.

“Don’t mind them, B. They’re just bitter ‘cause you rejected Leo three months ago.” You giggle, feeling better and calm now that Barty’s around, shoulders relaxed and body language displaying peaceful comfortable gesture.

Barty felt his heart swell at the realization that you truly trusted him and would never change your treatment of him no matter what anyone says, finally having the confirmation that he, in fact, do like you. Who wouldn’t when you’re this amazing? He was already feeling it, but to actually realize it was the right thing to happen? He can’t fucking contain it.

He can’t help but to shake his head with the biggest smile anyone has ever seen him have, “Bloody hell, (Y/n). I really do like you a lot.”

You froze at that.

Barty widened his eyes, about to take back, when you pulled him by his nape with one hand and kissed him gently. Evan whistled as Regulus let out a chuckle and high fived each other. Barely able to kiss you back, disappointment appears in his face after you pulled away too soon.

A smirk spreads across your lips, “You’ll get more later. You’re a good boy, after all.” You lightly tugged the hair on his nape before walking away and winking at Regulus and Evan.

“What— Wait— (Y/n), come on!” Barty stutters at the praise, flustered, as he immediately rushes off to follow you. His friends both turn around to follow him with their eyes, amusement written on their faces.

Regulus smirks, “Walk him like a dog.”

Evan instantly bursts into laughter. Well, at least he now has someone who will defend him in his name.

© ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴅᴇsʀɪsᴇ. sᴛᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ, ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪᴢɪɴɢ, ᴏʀ ᴜsɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ғᴏʀ ᴍᴏɴᴇᴛᴀʀʏ ɢᴀɪɴ ɪs sᴛʀɪᴄᴛʟʏ ᴘʀᴏʜɪʙɪᴛᴇᴅ. ᴀs�� ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ.

[bitchy-craft]

What Their Personality Is Like | Pick A Pile

Hello and welcome to this Pick A Pile! In here you'll find out what your fs personality is like. I hope you guys enjoy and find this useful. Do make sure to leave comments down below on your experience! I do want to remind you all that this is a General Pick A Pile which means this is for a lot of people: therefore keep what resonates and leave what doesn't.

Masterpost > Questions > Paid Readings

Pick A Pile!

Pile 1:

Your future spouse isn’t confident, they’re rather shy and find the thought of the future nerve wrecking and possibly scary, they try to avoid thinking about it. They are intelligent, and are able to speak up when they believe they need to, although they try to avoid it as much as possible.

If they care about someone or something they’ll carry it with pride and be incredibly careful with it, preventing any loss of said thing.

They’ll make sure that the thing they care about is always happy and get whatever they need, but they often forget to also choose for themselves, to put themselves first. They hardly do that, so when they start to care for you, make sure they don’t start walking over themselves.

Pile 2:

Your future spouse is someone who can easily get carried away with someone, they are someone who are really popular, at least in their school career, possibly their work career.

They might be known as a player around those times, which might be the reason why you two won’t immediately get into a relationship. But they’ll make sure to convince you they changed, and they will do their best to keep you happy, do things with you etc.

They are confident and love people’s attention and care a lot about people, although they find it difficult to express emotions and tell people how they feel, how much people care about them.

Pile 3:

Your future spouse is a confident person who will do whatever they need to, to accomplish their goals. They are immensely passionate and have many ideals and wishes they want to succeed in in life, a lot of dreams they want to fulfil.

They are hard-working and great at team work, they understand how some things can only be accomplished with help of others, and that asking someone’s help isn’t anything bad, it’s helpful, sociable and great.

Because they are so hard-working and want to achieve so much in their life, they tend to get carried away from time to time. They will be so focused they won’t realize how they don’t give other things attention, possibly lacking to give you enough energy from time to time.

[youngyoo-apologist]

I was thinking about OG!Cale, and like the Thames family in general and I thought it would be cool if the Rings of Life was this kind of unsettling power.

Imagine looking into someone’s eyes, and you see thousands and thousands of circles layered upon themselves, of course, it isn’t really that many, and there shouldn’t be anything in those eyes at all, but the longer you stare the more they appear. You blink, and they’re gone, but the gaze they give you isn’t any less scary.

I’ll be talking about both Jour and OG!Cale in regards to how I think this power affected them. Like idk I just think it would be cool cause being able to see time is such a power, it’s so scary, and it’s so all knowing. I feel like anyone who has it, and uses it often would just have such an unsettling gaze. It’s like their stare is reading you like a book, as if your story is something they can easily unlock with just one glance.

Jour Thames:

I think Jour would have this kind, and calm personality.

She’s bright but at the same time, when she looks at someone she gets eerily quiet which is a contrast to her normal talkative self.

Knowing so much, seeing the fate of others at just a glance is something that would burden anyone. After all, time is not something humanity is supposed to walk hand in hand with. Humans follow time just like everything else does, but the Rings of Life whisper time’s plans into the Thame’s ears.

I think the scariest thing about her would be how casually she would drop some life changing information. She mentions it like it’s just one verse in a poem, short, but impactful.

If you were to ask her what she meant, maybe she would smile and laugh before going back to whatever she was doing.

Original Cale Henituse:

I think in many ways, the Rings of Life would affect Cale like how it affected his mother. He’s committed to doing things right, just like she is. He would do whatever he could to make sure those he loved stayed safe.

No doubt, his gaze would be just as scary and unsettling as Jours. Those eyes stare through your soul and into the very inner-workings of your time and life.

His time is warped. He is an anomaly, someone who technically should have never existed as he did according to the very laws of the universe.

It is because of that fact that he is closer to time than anyone else.

Being close to time himself, I feel like he’d become used to time fracturing like it was normal. For him, that is what he’s seen any time he’s looked at himself with those powers.

Cale would be the kind of person to bring something up suddenly. How it felt like time didn’t work quite right for you, he would look you in the eyes and it would feel like he’s seen everything he needs to know about you.

You would ask him what he meant, but with the way he smiled blankly, it really felt like you shouldn’t pry.

[mangalho]

Ex-warbot OC

They don’t have names yet.

The two bots with the scary faces were specifically made for war, and now that it’s over, they still maintained their original ‘warface’ even though it has stigma associated to it. Many robots changed their faceplates post-war, as it made it easier to find jobs and not get into unnecessary conflict.

The sleeker looking guy used to be in their company, though he wasn’t made in the same factory as them; he isn’t their ’batch-mate’.

After the war he completely modified his frame, and now has an idol career. He desperately wats to erase his past, as people (and robots alike) will respond better to a ���new’ and untainted idol.

The two warface bots are “brother and sister” and they do odd jobs here and there to make ends meet and to be able to afford things they want. Rich people hire them as bouncers a lot since they are a symbol of terrible times. Sometimes they earn 15k in one night for just one gig it’s crazy. They both really love clothes since it distances them from their body’s original purpose while simultaneously not erasing their past. Also they look cute and cool!

The idol bot once meets the warfaces by chance in the street and pretends he doesn’t know them AGAHAKALAK I think he’s insane… completely erasing your past and the person you were is psychopathic to me idk. Anyway

There arent a lot of warfaces going around anymore. since they either died during the war or changed their frames. Pre-war bots were re-fitted during the conflicts and just had to go back to their former unweaponized frames after it was all over so they’re fine.  All of these robots can download information and i want that type of learning to mostly disappear if its deleted, but if they learn things like we do or experience real events, those memories and skills can’t really truly be erased; if they do try erasing them, they will still remember them, just not with HD video clarity, which brings them immense suffering sometimes. “How to people live like this?!” Well buddy it sucks idk we all cope

Newly minted robots are wack because they don’t exactly have a ‘soul’ yet they just do things they’re supposed to do, but after some time, all of them actually develop real awareness and shit… my war bots had like a 78% chance of dying everyday when they were activated, but they survived and attained sentience at like one year post birth and they wised up rly fast after that. They remember their first year, but they describe it as a ‘weird haze’

These robots feel pain so they wont like dive into a hole or damage themselves too much. Self preservation means longer-lived machines which means less repair costs and less human lives on the line as well.. slay !!!

While the conflicts went on, most robots achieved sentience and decided to stop fighting so there was like a robots rights movement and eventually the war stopped altogether and now the robots have a salary and a normal life mostly. They arent organics, so they need other things. They are solar powered and need oil sometimes and also they need new nanomachines once in a while like we need vaccines. Get your boosters… its not just tetanus and coronavirus anymore now they gotta think about like..the trojan horse 9000

I want them to have this aversion to organic things dying bc they are universally gross. Like they dont like seeing living-machines die either but a rat being squished by a car is also gross!

There are probably some tensions between humans and robots but like i kinda get it bc i wouldnt mess with a guy who has like lead pipes for arms. also most robots ARE normal but some are insane idk 🙆‍♀️🤷‍♀️ just  like people are.

 mine are normal tho they’re just vibing 💖🗣🤙

[nynyhaha]

Phantom Troupe - failed robinhoods?

As the new chapters told us,the Spiders started out as a revenge based organisation. That’s also what made them the way they are now.

But no one talks about the huge responsibility they have to carry to help their whole town.

Kurapika’s task for instance is to avenge the dead rather than changing the world to better treat the living. He doesn’t have a community whose situation he is concerned with. It’s tragic,but in a way that limits his responsibility. Leorio wants to treat people for free and actually addresses a bigger societal problem that was born out of a personal one.

The phantom troupe are very much concerned with avenging specific people,but they work on utilitarian principles. They’re ready to sacrifice themselves for the whole of Meteor City,so that no kids will be kidnapped again

For that they’re ready to throw away their own morals. Because kid Chrollo isn’t yet evil. He can’t think the same way adult Chrollo does,he’s not hat capable of committing a massacre but he already knows he will kill many people,without really understanding what that means. If you were to say something like this,would you know what it means? I wouldn’t. So in short,they’d chose to pull the lever and sacrifice one person for the five.(Unless it’s up to Paku and Chrollo is the one person)

If this wasn’t a revenge mission,what would it be?

Meteor City needs two things, protection and material goods.

Before the Troupe gained sufficient strength to have a say, the elders made a deal that exchanged people for the mafias “protection”. It seems heavily implied that the very same mafia who agreed to protect them was the one behind the kidnappings to begin with,they just exchanged children for adults.

In chapter 105 Leorio says the following:

Many years after the original deal,there was a second one, but this time the mafia offered goods. Why couldn’t they kept the “protection” deal?

Because the City no longer needed protection. Something must’ve happened for the mafia to take a step back and actually pay Meteor City rather than just not stealing their kids.

See how it’s a forced decision?

And the Troupe abolished even that.

Not only did the Spider scare off the criminals terrorising their town,they also put a stop to the mafia buying Meteor City’s loyalty.

Maybe it’s already pointed out by someone,but we need to talk about that more!

Suddenly their quest to steal makes much more sense. They’re not only scary guard dogs,but providers. It simply can’t be argued that the Troupe’s existence has no positive effects,when it changes everything for Meteor City!

Why then are they “failed” robinhoods? Because while they’re effective,they can’t change the world. They can only scare off the Mafia while they exist,should the Spider die it could all revert back. And also because they can’t help everybody. The cost of their constructive ends is destruction.

While I believe the Kurta clan massacre had other reasons,would it not be the perfect way to show the elders the Troupe is both capable of cruelty for the sake of their community and fit to provide money? “Oh you think you need the Mafia? Watch this.”

In that way they wouldn’t even need to hate the clan,it would merely be killing outsider children for the sake of Meteorian children.

It perfectly shows how trying to achieve radical change in an unfair world can drive one to insanity. “Robinhoods” seem noble. The work that the Troupe does can’t be noble. Just like Kurapika’s quest isn’t righteous,as much as he wishes it was.

Wanting safety for the kids of Meteor City is natural,but it seems unattainable.

Is the thesis here that you can’t help Meteor City without killing someone? Yes. It doesn’t mean killing the kurtas,but it means killing the Mafia. And killing the Mafia often= normalisation of killing. The more often you do it the easier it is,and the lesser justification is required. Eventually,that means killing the Kurtas.

The idea is that they couldn’t keep doing what they did without eroding their morals to the point they’re at now.

They can’t remain pure. But they have to do something.

Meteor City seems like an unsolvable tragedy. It’s sucks up all the misery and filth of the world, and while it’s supposed to represent hope and be a safe place for all the lost,that’s an unattainable ideal.

There will always be people in need is such a place. It’s like the shadow of the World, which is the actual problem. Meteor City is everything that is right and wrong with humanity.

And the saddest part? Any state of peace is fragile. ALL of the Troupe’s achievements might be lost once it’s gone.

So it really was all for nothing? And how is Chrollo supposed to keep caring about human lives back at home when he has ended countless lives himself? How can he feel any attachment to humanity when he uses bodies as bombs and sees himself as a worthless hostage?

If he doesn’t feel it tho..what’s even the point? No wonder bro is lost

[personasintro]

corrupted | myg

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; what's worse than living in a fucked up and corrupted world?

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: yoongi x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: mafia au, angst (?)

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, misogyny, no feminism here, everything is fucked up here (hence the title lol)

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.9k+

While the world's riots and country has been unsettled for a while now, rotten and violated by local gangs, it is not the most unsettling part though. Citizens say it is controlled by someone of a higher and more dangerous status. Someone whose people always lurk in the shadows, doing dirty business. One, many people don’t know any details of.

You being one of them.

Being just another person who has been forced into living in today’s world, not that anyone had a choice, there is not much knowledge. People talk, they gossip and jump into conclusions. It’s hard to say what’s true or not. So naturally, they speculate and it’s always something harsh and scary.

After all, that’s how it works now.

Unless you’re not a part of one of the gangs, earning your rightful place there and doing all the dirty work of all kinds, you’re just a basic human trying to survive and not get into any trouble.

People work where they can. Just enough to earn money and buy themselves food, somewhere they can live and stay. The amount of homeless people who steal has rapidly increased since the government is gone. Everything is corrupted. Empty. Without life. Just darkness and fear.

There were times when the world has progressed.

Not for women, it is hard to find yourself a good living. Unless you don’t want to be a part of any brothel that’s almost at every corner. People are desperate. Some women love to do it, perhaps they feel powerful that way. Some are not there because they want to be. They use their bodies to bring food and a proper living either to themselves, or to their families.

It’s one of the things you refuse to do. As anyone could imagine, it’s not the cleanest and safest work. One you really refuse to succumb to.

But enough to go out, praying no harm will come to you during your time out of the comfort of the rented small and old apartment that you're staying in.

Clubs and bars are no safer than what is outside, right behind every wall and door. You still consider it as a better alternative of how you could earn enough money to cover your rent and bring food for yourself.

Some women, actually a good part of them, latch themselves to a gang man. It is one of the choices that secures you at least some kind of protection, money, food and roof under your head. They’re known to have more money and security. You see a member of a gang? You run. You don’t indulge yourself with any of them. They’re dangerous. Don’t take no for answers. Most of them.

So far, you haven’t had the chance to really talk to any of them. You avoid them at all costs.

People come out to drink and have fun, even if they know that if someone just got killed at this very moment, only few would react. That’s how fucked up this world is.

No one is truly safe. Even under the fake facade of the world being relatively at peace right now — the words of whispers saying it’s the big boss controlling the country — no one guarantees you safety. Whoever is “up there” and is not afraid to kill or do different sorts of fucked up actions, does not care about anyone’s lives. So many people lost their lives.

People you knew.

And no one cared.

Relatives can’t get any justice. Not even revenge.

A gang member kills someone you know? Someone you loved? There’s nothing you can do, unless you or someone you care about wants to be killed. It’s fucked up.

It’s almost ironic how people dance to the loud music, seeming not to care about how truly fucked up it really is. It’s almost like the world hasn’t changed, people laugh, have fun and are getting drunk. However, there is still a shadow casting upon everyone’s head, filling up every inch and corner available. Nothing is the same anymore.

You would be stupid to tell yourself anything different. Even if it was under the mask of pretending. Even if it’s for a while.

Sitting on a hardened bar stool, you shift in your spot to make yourself comfortable which is very impossible. The bar is hectic. It seems to be doing well considering the amount of people here. One of your neighbors told you they could possibly hire you. It does sound a little silly considering there are no contracts now. They either take you and you do what they say, or you can forget about any job.

As you scan your surroundings in this dim lighting, you spot someone sitting in the corner of your eyes. An empty barstool between you as that someone happens to be a man. You wouldn’t pay him that much attention, you’re just merely cautious when it comes to anyone that’s an arm length from you. He’s just sitting there, enjoying the drink that’s in front of him. It’s hard to spot any of his features, the lack of lights here make it very difficult.

You’re in your own thoughts, focusing on the sounds around you which are just loud and blasting music when suddenly the stranger stares dead in your eyes. Something clenches in your chest, a good portion of shock at the sudden eye contact as he must’ve felt you watching him. There is so much darkness that you fail to notice the tiny smirk that curls the corner of his lips.

He’s got strong features, a smaller and slightly rounder nose — at least that’s what you guess from the seconds that he stares right back at you until he turns back and focuses his eyes on his drink. He plays with a glass, long fingers wrapped around its neck as his fingertips brush ever so slightly against it.

Gulping, you look away, embarrassed that he has caught you so easily. So much for staying low…

“Hiya, cheeks. What can I get ya?”

Head snapping at the bartender who chews on his gum, you suppress the need to glare at him and his stupid nickname, you clench your jaw for a second before you allow yourself to relax.

“Soda will do.” You almost wave him off, oblivious to the deadpanned look you so easily earn in return as soon as you look away from him, not paying him any more attention or eye contact.

That’s until he laughs, rubbing his nose. “Soda? That’s what you fucking order when you’re in this bar?”

Startled at the attitude and obvious mockery, you frown. “I’m not here to get drunk. I’m here on business.” you justify, even though you don’t feel like you have to at all.

But to avoid any more reaction or attention from this dumb fuck, you have to keep it casual. You don’t want to draw any more attention. Fucking hell, you’re the most clothed woman in here. You already do draw enough attention for people to think you’re weird or sketchy. The truth is, not many people have seemed to notice you and you would prefer it that way. Knowing it’s just wishful thinking, you gulp down any insult that wants to come out.

“Ah, got it.” He nods and for a split second, you sigh in relief. But then the dumb fuck has to open his mouth again. “Perhaps you would find the time for me after I clock off here too.”

He smirks, walking away too quickly for you to even react. Your mouth opens agape, knowing what he thinks of you and what he initiated. He thinks you’re a hooker. Well, they’re known for drinking and taking drugs. On rare occasions, there are some who don’t do any of this. Their clients prefer them to be not under any influence. But again, it’s just what you’ve heard and learned to know from a third party.

It’s the deep chuckle beside you that makes you snap out of your offended state. There’s no one beside the man, he’s smirking at his drink and undoubtedly, he’s heard the entire exchange between you and the shitty bartender. It’s the audacity of him that he laughs at that, clearly mocking you just like the bartender did if not even more. He hasn’t been even a part of that ridiculous conversation.

And before you know it, your ego and irritation gets the best out of you. “What?”

You say loud enough for him to hear. You know he does but he still reacts as if he doesn’t hear you. He’s smirking at his glass, tapping his fingers on it a few times. Enough for you to notice the rings on his fingers. It’s like an alarm ringing in your head but it’s already gone by the time he suddenly and slowly looks up. He slowly turns his head, giving you a look with a raised brow. Almost as if he’s questioning if you were talking to him.

And despite the little nervousness inside you, you keep your ground and still stare at him. Even have the audacity to raise your brow at him, making it clear you’re talking to him. The corner of his mouth twitches.

“Not a hooker, huh?”

Is he trying to be funny?

Narrowing your eyes, you hide your clenched fists in your lap. “What? You were interested?”

Oh fuck. Where is this boldness coming from? What the fuck are you doing?! You’re usually careful of how you speak to others. What if he’s a gang member and he’ll pull out his gun and shoot your brains out? No one would bat an eyelash here if that really happened. They would just be annoyed they have to clean your remains. God, the thought of that makes you almost gag.

He breathes out what sounds like a chuckle, it’s hard to tell because it’s too silent for this loud surroundings. “What a girl like you is doing here?” he asks instead.

A girl. Did he just call you a girl?

You’re sure it has something to do with your appearance and a choice of clothing, but the fact he hasn’t referred to you as a woman bothers you. Not that women mean something in this world anyway. Sad to say but for most men and parts, they’re good for sex and that’s about it. It’s a rotten world.

Women barely get any respect.

This time, you use your brain in a better way and settle upon honest and casual information, which you shouldn’t exactly share to a mere stranger. But what harm could it do? It’s not like you just shared your name or any personal information that could tell him your identity. For him, you’re just another… girl in this bar. Perhaps he thinks you’re strange to come here, not drinking and wearing the shortest dress you own. You don’t even do that anymore.

You can’t remember the last time you wore a dress. You choose not to, not wanting to catch an unwanted pair of eyes and attention which is brutally sad and upsetting.

“I’m looking for a job.”

“Here?” he chuckles humorously almost immediately.

You frown, “What’s wrong about here?”

“Why here out of all places?” he questions instead.

“I don’t know if you haven’t noticed, but we don’t have much choice. I gotta live somehow.”

“I suppose it’s better than visiting a brothel, no shaming though.”

“What? Because you’re a daily client there?”

He looks up again for a moment, breathing out a light chuckle once again. Are you this funny? “You don’t belong here.”

You frown in confusion this time, “And where do I belong?”

He licks his lips, reaching for his glass as he silently sips onto whatever drink he has there. The liquid is darkish brown, you would guess that’s neat whiskey right there.

“They shot the latest bartender here.”

“Are you trying to scare me?”

He smiles, but it doesn’t offer any sweetness to it. “No. Just being informative.”

“You barely answer any of my questions.”

“Didn’t know it’s an obligation.”

You groan, rubbing your forehead just as the bartender brings you your alcohol free drink. Fuck. Maybe you should’ve ordered alcohol after all. You definitely might need it for this odd conversation.

“What do you do then?”

He taps his fingers against the counter, relaxed and smoothly as if he has a world in the palm of his hands. “Just here and about.”

“Hm, informative as always.” you mutter, ignoring the burning glance at the side of your face. It’s your time to sip on your drink, enjoying the lack of attention you give him.

You could imagine what kind of dirty work he does. Everyone does one in a way.

“Why are you sitting here then, when you’re looking for a job?”

You sigh, “I’m mapping out this place. I won’t show interest when something might happen here.”

“I just told you someone got killed here like a week ago. Shit happens here.”

“Shit happens everywhere. Thanks to this corrupted world and whoever is controlling it.”

It’s a silence between you for some time. Your curiosity rising up. He seems to be a regular here considering he knows about the shooting. Perhaps he could’ve heard it. You don’t ask any details about that though, settling on something much more curious. Many gossips are around and you do wonder what could he bring.

“Do you know who’s behind this?”

He stays silent, slowly turning his head to look at you again. None of you seem to be looking at each other the entire time.

“Does anyone?”

“Well, people talk. Everyone assumes it’s a man. What if it’s a woman?”

He chuckles.

“What? You think a woman is not capable of ruling the country?”

“I heard a lot of rumors but never that one.” he admits.

“What did you hear then?”

He does that thing again — the corner of his lips twitch in amusement. You don’t care about that though. For once, you actually feel nice to have a conversation. You don’t get a lot of opportunities to talk about this kind of stuff. It is dangerous to be talking about it so freely. Let alone with a stranger. But this one, you’re cautious about but he seems to be chilled out.

However, your guess of people might be wrong.

“Whoever rules it is ruthless.”

“He must be. Who’s okay with killing, violence and drugs? And I just named a very short list of them.”

“He? I thought you considered a female here.”

Popping your chin on your palm, you rest your elbow on the counter. “When you think about it, today’s all about dominance, power and money. Women mean nothing here.”

It’s the brutally honest truth.

“Besides, I don’t think a woman could be so ruthless to the point when people just kill each other.”

“You would be surprised.”

You narrow your eyes at him, not quite agreeing. Surely there could be a woman that would match up to any violent man there is. “I’m not misogynistic, so I won’t completely disagree with that. What makes me think it’s a man is a fact of how it is in here. Women are left fending for themselves and the most protection or at least the slightest feeling of power they can get, is through men.”

“Hm, that’s an… interesting observation.”

“What? You don’t agree?” you ask, snapping your head at him as he chuckles, in a low and vibrating tone.

“Nah, I think you might be onto something.”

You sigh, staring ahead. “Well, I’m just thinking out loud. I don’t get anything.”

There’s a silence between you two, the blasting music remaining in the background as a loud noise which you’re trying to block. It’s not like you’re not a fan of rap but come on, you’re about to get a headache.

The man suddenly stands, chugging the rest of his drink as if it’s nothing. No grimace, nothing. He doesn’t look drunk to the point where he could no longer feel the burn of alcohol.

“You should not work here.”

Your eyebrows shoot up and a speechless grimace makes it on your face. “Why?”

“It’s not safe.”

“Is there any safe place?”

He chuckles, scratching his eyebrow as he stays silent, giving you no proper answer.

“What’s your name?”

“Mingi.”

You frown, “You don’t look like Mingi.”

He snorts, rubbing his mouth for a quick second. “What do I look like?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble honestly. “But it’s not Mingi.”

He doesn’t disagree, he lets you think whatever you want. Again, you don’t know this man and you have no clue whether he’s lying or not. You do have a suspicion because something radiates from him, you’re just not sure what.

“And what’s your name?”

You scoff humorously, “I’m not telling you.”

There’s a breaking sound on your right side, glass breaking and a few people yelling at each other. From the looks of it, it’s two groups getting into a fight where a security tries to take care of it. There are punches thrown and you gasp at the violent image, even though it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. People fight on the streets all the time. You just hope whenever you see someone laying on the ground is a homeless person, and not a dead body.

You turn around, guessing the man is already giving you a knowing look where he warned you about this place.

However once you turn around there’s no one there.

There's an empty spot, almost like he’s been a friction of your imagination. A ghost. Someone that wasn’t even here.

But then there it is.

The empty glass he drank from.

It is enough to assure you that he was real.

[mychapel-004]

i am about to ramble like a crazy person abt the fnaf movie so scroll if u don’t like spoilers

was not expecting all the love on my last post so i will keep posting thoughts abt the movie

another thing that rlly interested me in the movie was the focus on images, how humans process things through what we see rather than context, and how this sets up the fnaf movie trilogy to focus on fnaf 4 in the next movies.

the most obvious example is abby, we’re explicitly told that children communicate and understand things through pictures, which mike sorta shrugs off until he starts seeing the bigger picture. this then applies to the animatronics when he learns that they are also children and incredibly influenced by the drawings in their environment. the restaurant in the movie is very much a living thing of its own, the way it thrums to life when abby enters, and the animatronics know the truth of the drawing the second it is pinned up, and the animatronics are an extension of that.

a less obvious example is mike. even though he shrugs off abby’s teacher, and the point she makes about him being at the centre of all her pictures, he is much the same. it isn’t just children who are influenced by images. he has been returning to the same image every night for we don’t even know how long, the same picture of the nebraskan trees, the same perfect family picture he describes to vanessa, the same image of his brother looking at him out of the car window. everything he does is a result of this image. he is wholly consumed by it, believes he can somehow change the picture and see the truth beneath it if he just tries hard enough.

the ghost children, specifically golden freddy, change the image for him in an attempt to placate him into giving them abby, but no matter if he dreams of a happy family, it wont change the truth of what happened. just like how pasting a picture of five children happily holding hands with a golden bunny won’t change the truth underneath. images are fallible, they don’t tell the truth and we cannot trust our brains.

firstly i think this is a really fun direction to take in context to how the movie humanises the animatronics. fnaf 1 is a game made entirely of scary, still images of the animatronics, save for the jumpscares and foxy’s run. the lore is sparse and entirely given through exposition (if i hear one more person complain abt vanny only being there for exposition and not phone guy’s two minute loredump at the start of every night in the game i will lose it), and we know nothing other than that our death is imminent.

but the truth is that these animatronics are kids. they’re scared and lost and confused and cannot understand what has happened. underneath bonnie in the west hallway camera and freddy staring at you from the showtime room are terrified kids doing what they feel they have to. the movie was incredibly dedicated to showing that these kids still want to build pillow forts and sing to music and tickle their friends and be a family and i think it was a great choice.

i think all this focus on images is definitely a perfect lead into fnaf 4 (im not 100% on my book lore but i believe there are three books that cover fnaf 1, fnaf 4 and then sister location??) especially with the recent lore update that all of fnaf 4 is hallucinations. we don’t need a lore explanation of how the nightmares could be real because… they aren’t. following the game timeline, fnaf 4 would have already happened by now but we could easily see a return to it through mike, especially if the schmidt-emily or schmidt-afton theories are true and mike could have been the child in fnaf 4 but surpressed his memories. firstly we have a protagonist who is already on sleeping medication and has dreams that can be easily manipulated. this is a perfect setup for the nightmare animatronics to start making themselves known.

i also think that fnaf 1 was intentionally visually tame. the themes of the movie are actually very dark, they don’t shy away from the truth of the bodies being hidden in the suits, the animatronics Very Brutally kill the burglars, max is literally bitten in half and her body is hidden away, but the on-screen gore keeps it pg. this 100% allows them to experiment further with the levels of gore, tension and violence if they do fnaf 4, because quite frankly some of the nightmares are horrifying.

TLDR this movie sets up a million directions and theories that the next one could go in, and theres nothing the fnaf fandom loves more than vague lore and theory crafting

vanny post next bc i have Thoughts

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Seriously from a comms perspective I cannot stress enough how incredibly smart and strategic this launch/evolution/whatever you want to call it is. And to be clear I’m not saying it’s because they are PR. THAT IS NOT IT. Taylor and Travis are real people who happen to live in extraordinary circumstances that necessitate a plan in this regard because people can be so fucking weird about it.

The idea of acknowledging the elephant in the room instead of ignoring it and letting it take up space is what it all comes down to. Sure it was a frenzy when they first went public and the first bits of PDA hit the airwaves, but in the end what it does is normalize it. By this point, everyone knows they’re a couple and it’s not weird when they do hold hands or kiss or acknowledge each other in public. Because that’s what anyone would do with their significant other and trying to make it secret just makes it weird, for both the media and the people involved in the relationship.

So the way they’ve navigated this again has been masterful. There clearly are boundaries (it seems especially on Taylor’s end which Travis happily obliges) but that doesn’t mean they can’t just be themselves either. So, they’re not inviting people into their living room each week, but the gradual public meshing of their image served a purpose to normalize it. From Taylor’s first game to the occasional fluff pieces to trusted outlets to steer the narrative to acknowledging the public outings to dipping their toes in social media official, it’s making it so that now that they’ve moved into the next phase of their lives (whatever that may mean now but whatever it is it’s clearly serious and clearly considered permanent by both of them), they can share what they want without it being a stressor.

So if Taylor wants to be goofy, she can change her song lyrics or invite him up onto the stage and it’s newsworthy because she’s her but it’s not weird. Travis can be interviewed and be asked about his partner who is a public figure and speak highly of her without it turning into a maelstrom. Gradually their domestic status is going to be normalized so that their every move isn’t as big of a deal. (It’ll still be news because they are who they are, but it won’t seem like they’re sitting down for a root canal every time.)

I hate to call this a “rollout” because they’re people, not products, but in terms of a PR strategy, it’s excellent. And it’s not that every move they do is PR!!! It’s that every move they make is public, so they need to navigate that so that they can maintain their personal boundaries as they wish. It’s not that every interview is calculated, but it’s more that what they do or don’t choose to share at any moment in time is helping them figure out what they’re comfortable with, and it’s also lessening the market value, if you will, of any anecdotes. The more people become accustomed to them as a unit, the less each quote like this is bound to make huge headlines. (I mean other than fans like us because we want our pop star bestie to have everything she wants.)

It’s not just that their teams have set a great example, it’s that THEY are handling it with such skill and grace. I’m honestly blown away by it from a professional perspective and suspect that they figured out early on that getting a handle on it and guiding the narrative instead of pretending it didn’t exist might have been scary at first but has proven to make things so much easier and takes up way less space in all their brains.

[rubyscarbuncle]

So, in the aftershow talk Anthony laments about season 2 but honestly? I love season 2.

I think season 1 had a lot more clear of an objective, and a lot more clear of a structure, but that’s kind of perfect for the story of season 2 right?

season 2 is a story about being a teen. It’s about all the ups and downs and struggles and heartache and everything about being a teen, it’s about crushes, and emotions, and fathers, and weird mustaches, and it’s about the incredibly gen z/alpha experience of trying to figure out what you can do in a world that feels like it’s doomed by the people before you. It’s a very teen story. It’s very proud of this, and it does it very well, and while I can’t say whether or not it was *intentional* I think the structure and flow of season 2 is perfect for that story.

It starts off with a decently defined structure in school, with a vague but simple enough goal to reach, then you’re thrusted out into the world, having to make big choices for yourself and that’s when it starts to get… Messy. Things aren’t as simple as they used to be, there’s lots of moving pieces, people who are going to be making their own decisions that you can’t really change, there’s a lot of things going on. And it even feels difficult to lean on the people you care about but you do it anyways.

I think season 2 has had some of the best pc to pc emotional character interactions of the entire series and I don’t think you get there without season 2 being structured the way it is. Season 2 being so much more loose and more focused on the players pushing the plot I think purely serves it for the story it ends up telling. I don’t think you get moments like Scary siding with Willy and even while lashing out and eldritch blasting still being hugged by Linc and piled on by everyone to show she’s cared for in a season like season 1. I just don’t think that happens, because I don’t think everything being the way it is and the more almost tv show like structuring of season 1 would allow for that. It had plenty of great emotional moments, but I think the teen nature of it being messier and more impulsive and trying to figure out who you are and where your place in the world is absolutely benefits from a looser structure and goals that are less neatly defined.

The dads have, for the most part, figured themselves out as people even on episode 1 hitting. Sure they all grow and learn and change, but they never stop being those people they are during episode 1, they just become better versions of themselves. Even Glenn. Debatably. (he definitely changed but he might have become a worse person, like he’s a stoner who plays a guitar and says “far out” at the start and by the end is creating big vats of oil to blow up an entire commune and pissing in the sand lying down.) They’re adults, they have their priorities, and they know who they are. We’re in a freaky situation, we’ve been through a lot, let’s get our kids, let’s get tf out, let’s maybe try and fix some things because we’re not totally monsters or anything. Bing bang boom.

The dads have very clear outlines, but the season 2 cast has very strong vibes.

They’re a lot more chaotic, loosely defined, and their outlines are less immediate, but in exchange they are absolutely vibrating with energy and possibility and chaos and all of these interesting dynamics and things that never feel forced because, well, they’re still figuring themselves out! By all rights, they SHOULDN’T have those same defined outlines to their characters that the season 1 cast had.

The entire story is about being messy, and finding your way in life, and I think season 2 does that perfectly, and I think none of the incredible stuff that everyone brings to the table works without Anthony doing what he did and doing the incredible job he did. Good shit king.

[kitkats-and-kittens]

TW Abuse/abusive relationships

Does anyone think the Gods ever ended up in like toxic/abusive relationships?

Like obviously they’re gods and the mythology often presents them as the perpetrators. In fact the entire Percy Jackson series wouldn’t have happened had they not been exploiting and abusing their own children.

But also Gods are like immortal and they get into loads of different relationships with loads of different people.

Abusers are often victims themselves and although that doesn’t excuse their actions it does provide an explanation as to why they act a certain way since they have skewed perceptions of the world and the Gods are most definitely victims of, at the bare minimum parental abuse (and that’s on top of all the generational trauma)

But I was reading ToA and for some reason it didn’t really click for me that when Apollo admits Zeus is abusive it was like a whole revelation for him, I just assumed the Gods all knew he was a tyrant and a shit dad but clearly they don’t.

And knowing Zeus I doubt Apollo was his only victim, but if he didn’t notice his father was an abusive dick whose to say the others noticed and if they didn’t notice their own father was piece of shit then whose to say they’d notice when their partner is abusing them?

Also the fact that so many demigods have abusive parents?

I would say Percy but it was Gabe who did all that shit Sally was an amazing mom.

But still people like Annabeth or Hazel.

Jason and Thalia especially.

Maybe some of their parents changed as people because of outside relationships or maybe it was parenting itself that caused them to spiral and they eventually became worse and worse as parents despite having been amazing partners like Annabeths dad.

But still most people don’t just flip a switch and become abusive one day, people don’t change that quickly and from the time they get into a relationship to the time they have a kid which is like a couple months (if you ignore that Gods can just have kids whenever) their isn’t really enough time to suddenly pick up abusive tendencies. Most of them were probably like that for a long time before they had kids and if they’re able to treat their own offspring so badly then I wonder how they must have treated their partners.

This honestly started as an offhanded thought but now I’m genuinely curious if anyone wants to share their thoughts.

I’m just kinda wondering if Apollo and Artemis ever had a conversation about relationships and Apollo was just like.

“Yea he’d get super pissed and start yelling and throwing stuff at me, it was kinda scary sometimes”

And Artemis just looks at him like “You know that’s domestic violence right?”

And if they did get into abusive relationships I wonder how it would effect them since they aren’t exactly human. I doubt they’d be afraid since no matter what the abuser did they’d always hold a position of power over them simply because they are Gods. But emotional abuse and gaslighting is a thing and I personally believe that due to their experiences with their own parents most of the gods would be extremely vulnerable to this sort of abuse.

And on top of that most of them would have way to much pride to ever admit they were being abused in a relationship.

I really don’t know where this thought came from but I want to know if anyone shared the same opinion.

[urmadiik]

wait do u take requests? I have one if u do lolol :>>

Miles x childhoodbestfriend!fem!reader who, persuaded by miles, decide to watch a scary movie during a sleepover at his house. A really scary scene shows up and reader and miles scream and cuddle each other as they’re both under his blanket. This leads Rio and Jeff to walk into the room obviously concerned, but they (especially Rio) think to themselves about how cute the two of them are together lolol. Miles’s parents still scold him about putting on a scary movie, with Rio saying how he shouldn’t try to “scare her baby” lmao

I do !! Srry I didn’t make it clear (*^‿^*) , this idea is adorable

feel free to give me request !!

also srry it took so long for me to reply to this

disclaimers/warnings⚠️ !! : fluff, fem!reader x miles 1610, use of y/n, targeted towards black readers (but you can read if you’re still interested), can be platonic or romantic

— ★ 𝟑𝐚𝐦 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 ★ —

You and Miles had been the bestest of friends ever since he moved to the complex with his parents. You don’t really remember how you started being friends, only being able to recall small moments. However, you can remember the first time you too met.

It was early in the afternoon and as a treat, your mom decided to take you to the park. When you arrived, you scurried as fast as your little legs could carry you to the swing set, wood-chips crunching under your shoes. You sat down on the little swing, the metal chains shaking and wobbling as you sat. You tried to push yourself over and over again, failing miserably with each try. As you were about to get up and ask your mom to come push you, disappointed with your failed attempts, you felt a small hand on your back. It pushed you gently, becoming more forceful overtime. You soured up and down, the colorful beads and clips in your hair clanking together as you giggled and giggled.

As the swing slowed and the sun dimmed, you hopped off the swings and turned around to see a little boy around your age. He was a couple inches shorter than you, big chestnut eyes looking up at you. He looked unfamiliar, and that was very unusual to you since you knew almost every boy and girl in the area.

“Hi, I’m y/n !” You beamed, sticking out your hand for him to shake.

He glanced down at your hand and shook it hesitantly.

“ ‘M Miles” he said in a gentle voice, a tiny smile on his face making his freckled cheeks rise up.

Almost nine years since then, you and him had been attached by the hip. Even though you switched from loose twist and lazy slick back ponytails to box braids with curly ends touching you waist, your carefree and outspoken attitude warping to a more shy and stoic one, nothing much has changed. The only thing being different about Miles was that he was a little taller than you, teasing you about it every moment of the day he got just as your did all those years ago.

Currently, you and Miles were sitting on his bed. You on your phone and him sketching out something, the pencil lazyily gliding against the thick paper of his sketchbook.

“I’m boredddd” you groaned as you flopped down on the squishy bed, your body bouncing up and down almost rhythmically before it finally settled.

“Well what do you wanna do?” He glanced over at you

Suddenly, your eyes sparked with an idea. An idea he knew and was putting off for the longest.

“A scar-“ “no”

“Come onnn. Scary movies aren’t even scary, their more for the thrill of it, y’know?”

“Y/n, 27.2% horror movies are based on real life events.” stated, trying to sound smart.

You groaned, not in the mood for his little “fun facts of the day”. After 15 minutes straight of convincing, he let out a groan.

“What movie..?” He grumbled.

You couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

“The Conjuring” You said as you sat up and leaned against him, backs against the head board as he draped the fuzzy blanket over the two of you.

A couple minutes later, he seemed intrigued with the story. To you, it was just another horror movie with the same plot and you were honestly a little disappointed. Until it got to the jumpscare.

Your eyes were draping close and you were tuning out the dialogue of the movie. All of a sudden, you heard a loud, horrifying screech coming from the tv. You open your eyes and to your horror, a ghostly white face appeared on the screen.

You and Miles both screamed loudly. You couldn’t help but hold him tightly, trying your hardest not to look at the tv. You felt him embrace you back, putting his head on your shoulder.

Just then, you heard the door slam open. You felt the yellow hue of the hallway light shine on the two of you.

“Are you two alright?” His mother said, out of breath like she had ran. Jeff being right behind her, scanning the room.

“Mhm, just watching a movie.” Miles said quietly, still shivering slightly from the almost heart attack.

As Rio looked around the room, he saw exactly what was you two were screaming about.

“Miles, what did I tell you about watching these kind of movies?” She scoffed.

“That their the gateway to hell..” He said as he lowered his head and sighed, knowing his parents were disappointed in him.

“And what were you doing showing my baby that?” She scolded, gesturing to you.

“But mami she-“ ‘No buts Miles” Jeff said as he shook his head.

You just sat there, covering your mouth with a hand to try and hold in a laugh as Rio reached for the remote and turned off the tv.

“You two, go to bed. We’ll talk about this in the morning.” She said as she sucked her teeth and closed the door.

But she couldn’t help but think about how adorable the both of you looked cuddled up like that, getting a feeling of nostalgia as she reminisced all the times the two of you would cuddle up when you were little. How small you two were, how much you changed. As the thought crossed her mind she couldn't help but feel a tiny smirk on her face.

feel free to give feedback !! sorry it got a little lazy at the end