#for the sake of stories like these

[softquietsteadylove]

How about this for Thena bodyguard AU. Fan gets on stage and tries to get to Thena ( to hug her or something) and Gil jumps into action.

The tour was going pretty well, so far. It hadn't been Thena's idea, but it was going well all the same.

Gil knew it was taking a lot out of her. Between being on the road all the time, and the hours they were making, and the constantly being live, she was exhausted. But he always made a point of telling her it went well, of assuring her that she was doing great.

And he took extra care with her offstage.

Obviously he wasn't allowed on stage with her, as much as she would probably like it if he were. But he lingered just offstage in the wings, as usual. There were other security guards at the edges of the stage and in the crowds of course.

But Thena always wanted Gil as close as possible, and something about that really warmed his heart.

Gil was always watching, never once distracted by what was going on around her. He would watch from where he could, move across the massive stage and change angles when necessary. Anything to keep her in his sights.

The show was about three hours in length. It was a full repertoire of Thena's stuff, plus a few extras added for the tour. She would stumble backstage after the whole thing, exhausted and ready to curl up in a ball.

Gil would keep her close as she raced to the solitude of her provided dressing room and then back to the tour bus to rest. One night - after entertaining multiple encores - she had been bold enough to ask him to carry her. Which, of course, he had.

Another song finished, and they were nearing the finale. He could see her steps drifting more and a sheen of sweat making her platinum blonde hair stick to her skin. She looked magnificent.

"Athena, I love you!"

It happened quickly. The guards on the floor were apparently otherwise occupied. That must have been it, Gil thought, because otherwise he was going to have a word with them about how to do their fucking jobs.

Thena rushed back from the edge of the stage, where a fan was clambering up like a zombie in a horror movie. People were already screaming at the upset, and the floor security was trying to mount the stage in pursuit.

But Gil was closer. Gil was faster. Without question, protecting Thena mattered more to Gil.

Thena gasped as Gil appeared from the side of the stage, throwing himself at the intruding presence, both of them rolling away from her. "Gil!"

The kid stopped rolling after the first few. But in reflex, he had kicked Gil off of him, sending her bodyguard into the pit in front of the stage. Fans were screaming, people were in a panic, stage managers were scrambling to recover from the upset.

"Gil!" Thena screamed, dropping her handheld mic and running to where he'd fallen.

"Thena, I'm fine," he called out, already picking himself up. The last thing they needed was her trying to climb down in here with him. "It's just a fall."

"Oh my god," Thena shook her head, waving her hands for the stadium security to come and assist him. "We're going to get you out, Gil."

It was a hell of a fall, and he'd been through it as a security guard before. He picked himself up, although his shoulder was for sure fucked in some way or another. He sighed, wondering if it was enough for him to have to call someone in as a replacement.

Thena wouldn't like it, but his priority was her protection, even if he was no longer the best man for the job.

"Easy," two security guards on either side of him muttered as they pulled him up and walked him towards the stairs. The lights shut off and the house lights came on, signalling the end of the night for everyone involved.

"Where the hell were you?"

"Gil!" Thena rushed forward, having already abandoned her fancy heels and just in her bare feet. He was going to have to lecture her about how she could cut her feet that way.

"Hey," he greeted softly, putting a hand on her back as she threw her arms around him.

"Whoa there, little lady," the other security guards attempted to reach for her.

Gil shrugged them both off and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. They were the fuckers whose fault this was--no way in hell they were touching her. "Let's go."

"Gil, are you okay?" Thena frowned, letting him lean on her as heavily as he needed on their way backstage.

"Pulled something, I think, but I don't think it's an emergency," he sighed as she helped him hobble back. "I'll get off my feet for the rest of the night and I'm sure I'll be better in no time."

"Gil, you should let the onsite medics look at you," Thena frowned.

"We have our own medical team, they can look at me back on the bus," he grunted as she helped him up the small side steps. "Let's get you somewhere safe, first."

"You can worry about yourself a little bit, you know," she gave him a look he usually saw her reserve for Kingo when he was on her nerves, or Ikaris when she had to be around him to hang out with Sersi.

"I'm fine, I-ah!" Gil grunted as she gripped his shoulder with a defiant glare. "Okay, I'll get it looked at. I just...I need to know you're safe first, Thena."

Thena pulled him into the wings, where the rest of their team were already waiting at the ready. She let some of his other security guards take his weight off her shoulders, calls already being made and assistants ready to run out to 24/7 pharmacies in the area.

Gil sighed as he got loaded into a golf cart, which he had to admit, was nicer than walking at the moment. A stage manager climbed into the front, but - to his pleasant surprise - Thena climbed in next to him.

"I've made you promise not to leave my side before," she murmured as she pulled him to lean against her at a comfortable angle, one of her arms around him and the other helping to keep his sore shoulder in a relaxed position. "Now, it's my turn."

[jakeperalta]

letting celebrities think they can and should "use their platform" to speak on all current events and political issues regardless of how educated they are on them was a grave mistake

[benevolenterrancy]

Scholarly peak is catching up on recent literature

[pirateshelly]

As much as nearly every character she meets tends to act like there's something uniquely broken and wrong with Claudia, at no point does it truly seem to me like there actually really is? I mean, obviously she is extremely fucked up, she straight up went through a serial killer collecting trophies phase, but there's a level of fucked up that's sort of the baseline for every character in the show, and obviously being turned into a vampire as a child puts her at a unique disadvantage. But for all that everyone around her spends their time bemoaning how dreadful and doomed her life is, even Louis who genuinely loves her but also builds so much of his identity around feeling responsible for her Terrible Fate™, I really don't think she's like, fundamentally damaged any more than any of the other vampires are.

But Lestat is so unwilling to be wrong that every time her life hits an inevitable road bump instead of helping her through it he points and says "look! see! she IS a monster, I was right Louis, making her was a mistake!" (and I think he sees his own monstrousness in her but fails to also see her humanity)

And then Armand meets her and sees only someone who will inevitably lose her mind, so of course speeding up the "inevitable" and siding with the coven to plan her death is just a mercy, absolving himself of any blame. (and he projects his own frailty and desire for death onto her, failing to see her strength and her desire for life)

Which makes it so cathartic when she meets Madeleine, admits to her how broken she feels sometimes, and Madeleine's response is just. Well that's normal. Who isn't a little broken these days. Let yourself feel it, move on, let yourself feel it again if you need to. After spending her life having others act as if her emotions are something uniquely dark and worrying, Madeleine's incredibly blase attitude must have been such an incredible breath of fresh air for Claudia!

To spend her whole life being made to feel like something is Wrong™ with her, and then meet someone who's just like, "yeah, and?? Who isn't? Join the club I guess"

Which makes her death so incredibly tragic and frustrating because like. She was fine! She was making a life for herself! She wasn't doomed by her nature, she wasn't "doomed by the narrative" (whatever the fuck that even means), she was doomed for no reason other than that everyone around her (except for Madeleine) preemptively DECIDED she was doomed and never gave her a chance to prove them wrong.

[golyadkin]

I cannot express enough that if your reaction, as a hobby artist, to not getting that many notes on your art is to say "maybe I should just stop doing art altogether" you need to stop posting art to tumblr

not necessarily forever, not even for long, but just stop putting your art on here and start doing it for you again, remember why you enjoyed doing art in the first place and stop relying on the attention of faceless people on the internet for your enjoyment of your hard work

believe me, I get it, nothing crushes the artistic soul quite like labouring for hours on a piece only for it to get like 10 notes, so you need to find your own source of joy in the act of creation and a lot of the time that means making art and not showing it to anybody

[emdeerm]

Past saves Present

Og fic ig

In some cultures, it is believed that children are able to remember bits of their past lives till the ages of 3-5.

For Danny, the opposite was true. He got his memories at exactly the second he turned 5.

And he had to promptly dodge the blade of the boy in front of him.

His brother, his mind supplied. His twin.

Danny stopped swinging his own sword, focusing on dodging and avoiding the fate of being a slashed pillow. His new/earned skills especially helped with that greatly as his head was seriously trying to re-kill him.

"I yield," he rasped as he jumped away from his brother and looked at their Mother. "My head hurts, Mother," he added pitifully.

His twin looked slightly concerned for a second, before schooling his face in a way Grandfather has been teaching them.

"Tch." But he did put away the blade before their Mother, said a word.

"Dynial, Damian, you are not to stop until you have received permission in the future."

The boys nodded. Mother took their hands and led them out of the private training ground back to their rooms.

Danny spent the rest of the day lying down, slightly feverish and miserable as his brain was processing and acclimating the new set of memories. Clockwork said it wouldn't be too bad. We'll, the clock bustard has been wrong. It fucking sucked.

His brother was hovering. Their Mother was always around, not letting anyone into their space. Ra's is being kept in the dark.

A peaceful rest was all he needed for his brain to finish sorting out new information. And Danny was stuck in a bit of a dilemma.

You see, Damian and Dynial love their Mother, strive to be the best Demon Twins, and see nothing wrong with their life so far.

Their hands are still clean.

Danny, on the other hand, has many MANY choice words for his current situation and one Clock Ghost.

You want to try reincarnation ONE time! No wonder others don't really do that.

-------

Their days continued like they did before he got his memory back. It wasn't hard to be Dynial when he actually was him.

The nights were filled with planning. And a personally assigned mission: get Damian to be interested in normal things.

Stars weren't much of a hit. Uncultured child.

Animals were a little intriguing.

Simple art and craft projects seemed to hit the spot.

Keeping their little meetings and activities hidden wasn't as hard as one would think. Mother still had her missions. The two of them were often left alone in their wing of the place, the supervisors being allowed only till the doors. Ra's was the Head. He didn't check in on them all the time. The two of them weren't slacking in their training either and were considered prodigies.

Danny wanted out of this Cult.

A many months after feeding different information, facts, crafts and so on to his brother, Damian was curious. He was suspicious about the sudden knowledge but he was also 5. He only had to reference the Lazarus Pit (unfiltered and dirty ectoplasm? Seriously? Clockwork, you can't expect him to work on his vocation) once to convince the child.

They snooped around and found out that they had a father out in the world.

Danny got a plan.

It was super stupid. And dangerous as hell. As well as literally (half)suicidal. But he felt it in his chest and knew he'd succeed.

His Core was here. But it was sleeping. And if he wanted to be safe and away from here, he needed to start it up again.

The big pool of Ecto would do just fine. His Core would filter out the impurities.

He didn't want to stay here until his hands no longer protected. He didn't want such life for his brother either.

---

Damian infiltrated the Lazarus Room just in time to see his brother jump into the Pit.

He ran to the edge.

He was sinking.

The green was too bright. The smell around them was too much. His ears rang.

He reached towards the water, eyes unseeing and hands numb. His heartbeat was too loud.

His brother's wasn't loud enough.

"Don't touch the puddles, Dami, you'll get sick," a gentle, cold hand stopped him from diving.

The child looked up. His brother was floating above the water. He looked all wrong. But he was there.

"I didn't want you to see this part..." his brother laughed awkwardly as he landed next to him. A bright ring of light blinded Damian for a second.

And his brother was back.

-----

Getting used to his powers again felt nice but tedious. Soothing his twin was heartbreaking. He didn't think this through hard enough.

Their Mother was none the wiser to the fact that one of her children died and came back. Nore was she privy to the escape being planned by both.

On one moonless night, when Mother wasn't there, the shift was changing and the world was asleep; two boys phased through the walls and flew. Small bags of stuff were strapped onto them as they traveled to their father.

Mother's notes called him Bruce Wayne, Batman, Beloved and Detective.

It wasn't hard to find him when they arrived.

Though, Danny didn't expect a furless furry and a pantless child to be their new family.

Can he ever get a normal Family???

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 136

Contrary to popular belief, Jaskier was the one who said no to riding a horse. Jaskier willingly walks alongside Geralt and Roach. Because Jaskier is afraid of riding horses. Don't get him wrong! He loves horses! Just not being on them as they run 48 kilometers per hour. When Jaskier sprains his ankle walking, however, Geralt decides enough is enough and it's time to teach him how to ride and help him face his fear. Jaskier sits in front of Geralt on top of Roach as Geralt teaches him how to ride, and every time Jaskier gets too nervous, Geralt will hear his heartbeat tick up, and he'll hug him, or praise him, and Jaskier will calm again. Jaskier's been getting better. To the point that Geralt can now just walk alongside Roach and Jaskier, hand resting on Jaskier's leg or back. Geralt decides to surprise Jaskier with his own horse! Geralt finds something sturdy and gentle, but also pretty, knowing his bard will love to comb and braid the horse, and will want to show it off. It's a white horse, which certainly won't stay white on the road, but then again, Jaskier will most likely delight in cleaning the horse and admiring it's sheen when it's washed. Geralt presents Jaskier with his horse, and Jaskier is overjoyed. Sobbing with happiness, hugging and kissing the horse, and Geralt has never been more in love with his bard. The first time Jaskier rides his own horse, they go at a very gentle slow pace, as the horse seems unsure about being ridden. Jaskier cajoles and consoles it through it all, and soon enough they're riding at steady paces, both Jaskier and his horse now feeling safe and brave enough to go at a normal pace, sometimes even a bit faster. Geralt is happy. Until one day, big white wings materialize on the sides of Jaskier's horse, and the damn thing takes off with Jaskier still on it. Shit.

[shalom-iamcominghome]

I've been doing a lot of reflection as of late, especially after this past class.

This past class was about the Torah and Tanakh in general, and the way the rabbi talked about the commandments (specifically the ten commandments) has made me really reflect on how I interpret them, specifically the fifth commandment, or honoring your mother and father.

This is a commandment I have wrestled with for a long time - in fact, it brought me away from g-d at multiple times. I was severely abused when I was incredibly young by my mother, and I used to feel insulted at the implication that I were to honor her while she got to live a better life. It was hypocritical, in my eyes.

But this rabbi surmised that this particular commandment was because parenthood is an act of creation, something that is like the g-d from which we come from. My realization is this: I don't think we're necessarily meant to take even these commandments literally.

I this particular commandment is more of a call to honor creation - creation is a gift, and like any gift, many people simply will not like it and will discard it. The person who abused me created me, but she did not honor creation. She didn't honor me, but I can still honor it.

I have started to honor creation much more. I'm too young, too unstable, not mature enough to be a father (though I fantasize about it), but I create all the time. I create relationships, I create with my hands through crochet. I create memories, I create my world. And I can honor who I am and where I came from that made me who I am. I've been learning one of the mother tongues of my family (Italian, since part of my family originates there) and it was judaism that inspired me to do this.

I don't think g-d wants me to honor my abuser. I think He wants me to remember the Holy action of creation. When I am a father, that act of creation will be Holy, and indeed, I am already joyful about the thought.

I have seen many people struggle with this particular commandment, but I think this perspective helps me personally. I don't think I ever have to forgive my abusers (plural), and I don't think I am commanded to simply because they happened to be family. I am commanded to recognize the holy, to elevate the mundane. In doing so, I will remember g-d. Through creation, I honor g-d and everything he has done for us, for me, and for our collective people.

[couldbebetterforsure]

I know people have all sorts of opinions on how Garp is handled in the live action but, for me, I just find him hilarious. Like, from the perspective of someone familiar with the show and knowing Luffy and Garp's relationship, Garp's expressions after learning what Luffy is up to in the early episodes are funny!

Garp, episode 1: *after being told a pirate with a straw hat robbed a marine base* There's more than one straw hat in the world, it doesn't HAVE to be Luffy.

Coby, episode 2: The pirate's name was Luffy 😔

Garp: *speedrunning the five stages of grief* Goddammit.

[ennn]

I'm not a big believer in the huge twist at the end. My process is sort of letting pressure out. Like, you’ve got to have reveals along the way. And really, you need one big one that feels satisfying and feels like you have allowed the audience in sufficiently so they don't feel like they're being toyed with. They feel like what they're seeing at this point, if not the full truth, a level of truth that makes me feel like I'm not being manipulated. That it's not all smoke and mirrors and just for show. What are your baby reveals? What's your substantive midway through reveal? And making sure that however things resolve that what you're aiming for is taking people's breath away. But everything falls into place. It's hard. It's really hard.

– Jac Schaeffer (source)

[tapakah0]

This is. The kind of dialogue. That I need. From almost all cartoons. MAKE HIM USE YOUR TONGUE, F***ING EXPLAIN EVERYTHING FINALLY

[egophiliac]

On the “it was supposed to be a joke!” theme, is mustard!trey your favorite?

Back when all I knew about Twst was fanart I thought things like fairies not being able to resist Leona (fairy gala), Jack wagging his tail and then denying it while it is actively happening and Rook hunting his classmates for sport was just fandom hivemind stuff.

Every time I come across something from art that turns out to be real I am delighted, like Jamil’s towel conversation with Kalim before GloMas, I was 130% sure you’d made that up and could not stop giggling.

Trey's Mustard Mania is up there, but I think my favorite will always be Azul's robes story, in which -- I know I've talked about this before, but honestly we should be talking about this 24/7 because really -- it turns out the secret ingredient in Vil's fancy high-end moisturizer is Floyd. Vil has been spending the entire story walking around with Floyd Juice rubbed into his face. what does that mean? who knows! they just wring Floyd out like a towel (somehow?!) offscreen and put the drippings into a cute bottle and sell it to Vil for an exorbitant price! this is just something that happens in canon! why not!

also, the birthday boy sashes. for some reason no one ever believes the birthday boy sashes are real at first, and it's always a sheer delight to see "WAIT, IT ACTUALLY SAYS BIRTHDAY BOY?!" on my activity page. :D

[dallasgallant]

It only got worse when the kids found out what his actual name was…

[uncanny-tranny]

Going to be really honest, if you're disabled, you truly don't owe people - or the world - access to your diagnoses, symptoms, accessibility needs (and why you need them), mental health history, trauma, or anything like that.

The urge to force people to lay themselves out so they can be picked apart, consumed, and feasted upon by people who demand that their comfort outweigh that of a disabled person's is an ableist pipe dream. It is the urge to control that which you feel you have no control over, and it's your right to refuse to play that game, that role.

[crimeronan]

there's a secret world of beautiful human interaction that opens up when you're a delivery driver who's nice to restaurant workers. two days ago a lady at a donut shop gave me a free donut and coffee for breakfast because i was a doordasher picking up an enormous order at six in the morning. an old man in a hotel lobby at 2 AM fervently told me "be safe out there" as i was leaving. the same happened with a guy working at a 24-hour mexican place at 3 AM. (i imagine being a woman-thing doing deliveries in the middle of the night worries people.) sometimes i tell mcdonalds workers, "it's okay, take your time," and they'll wilt with relief like "girl. you will not BELIEVE the night we're having." i talked to another doordasher while we were waiting to pick up orders from a fast food chain and he showed me some ridiculous messages from his last customer like "can you Believe this lady. UNREAL." i feel like a character in a video game who knows all the secret thieves cant nonsense to speak to people in the criminal underworld, except it's just like. knowing all the words that suddenly turn off the customer service persona in the NPCs.

[carlyraejepsans]

there is something so very sad about watching a piece of media that has such obvious thought behind it, interesting concepts, solid writing, a passionate team that cares about the art they're making, and yet has to work within a time limit that completely strangles the story they're trying to tell.