#high alert all the time

[sir-walton-goggins]

I'm playing Haunting Ground and it's by far the scariest game I've ever played. Also, one of the best horror games ever made and I'm dying on this hill

[linddzz]

I'm not gonna lie "jayce is protective/possessive in a way that a guard dog is" and "but a guard dog has a collar and a leash" have changed my brain chemistry on a molecular, nay, atomic level oh my god I'm a changed person nothing is gonna be the same *feral screaming*

Thank yooouu!!!! I am pretty pleased with that framing for them ever since it occured to me when I was writing out that protective/possessive Jayce post! It really clicked using that description as the summation of the VIBE I got from them even in Season1. That vibe where it's undeniable that Jayce is more physically forward and LOOKS like he's taking charge in those moments where he puts a hand out to hold Viktor back and it LOOKS at first like Viktor just goes along with things.

But there is just. That vibe. That sense. Something about noticing how much Jayce can act assertive but very much wants someone else directing him as Season1 goes. Something about how he's always moving around Viktor. And part of it clicks when you see him putting his head in Mel's lap repeatedly like every single giant dog that does not realize they are not lap size. Then somethinnggg about "man every time he's doing that or even talking to Mel he ends up talking about Viktor huh"

And THEN the something...something about Viktor. About his mix of quiet introversion but the very self assured confidence he carries himself with. The way if something frustrates him he looks over at Jayce like "do something about that." The way that as soon as they partner up it's like he becomes this quiet pivot point holding lots of eye contact while pushing Jayce to do crimes and then being the force of calm confidence as the pressure mounted trying to stabilize the hexgem for the first time. Something about how he always takes Jayce's constant touches and physical looming like it's perfectly natural and you don't know why, but it doesn't feel like Jayce is imposing on him???

And then (for me at least lmao) that exchange on the bridge makes it all CLICK. Jayce got so wound up he ended up snapping at Viktor (bc he is a high energy dog and his response to stress/fear is baring teeth lmao) and Viktor does not even look up as he smacks Jayce's hand away. Does not GLANCE at Jayce as he very pointedly moves away from him and out of Jayce's personal space bubble. And Jayce's hand flinches where it's held out and he immediately says "I'm sorry" in the smallest voice. And THEN, only THEN does Viktor allow the hand on his back to lead him away and you realize. holy shit. Jayce has earned touching privileges back. Holy shit.

and MAN I am usually NOT AT ALL into the idea of D/s dynamics as a lifestyle thing but with those maniacs it's like. Oh you two never even discussed that this is the dynamic. Y'all are just LIKE THAT. If Viktor ever called Jayce "good boy" even as a joke you just KNOW Jayce would DROP to his knees like it's an instinct (making for a hilariously awkward day at the lab)

come with me anon come with me everyone, we gonna explore Dom/sub dynamics that have bonkers types and layers of power exchange nuances in em

[saturnniidae]

I think Astrid Hofferson has a bad case of the 'my childhood was wasted, I grew up too fast for something ultimately proven pointless.' Syndrome and that she deserves to get to do silly things she missed out on and take up new hobbies, even if she's not particularly good at them–it's purely for the experience yknow, and learn to finally breathe no longer needing to be on constant high alert and get to be truly happy

[keys-hellscape-1020]

Yeet.

A/N: this is just pure word vomit. I’m so sorry. The title is SO bad but I was giggling so hard when I wrote it. Also this is literally so fucking self-indulgent.

Summary: Spider-People have a sixth sense. This is common knowledge to anyone who intimately knows one. What you didn’t know however was that it can occasionally misinterpret intentions, leading to disastrous results.

Hobie Brown x gn!Reader

Contents: No use of Y/N, anxiety mentions, reader gets full on thrown through a window, reader dissociates (symptoms of dissociation are described in depth), reader gets injured, angst, hurt/comfort

————

It was mid-afternoon, the sun starting to lower towards the sky-line as you hauled your bags back from the grocery store. It wasn’t a long walk, not by any means, by the bags were heavy with ingredients for dinner and the sun was at the perfect angle to shine in your eye.

As you dragged yourself through the lobby of your apartment you could feel your heart flutter at the gentle vibration of your phone in your pocket. Hobie must be telling you that he entered through the window. How you longed to see him, today had been impossibly long and he had a subtle way of making everything better.

As you shuffled your way into the elevator, smacking the button awkwardly with your elbow, you impatiently watched as you rose through the levels of your apartment building.

It felt like a century. But eventually you were met with the sweet ding of the elevator reaching the correct floor. You dragged yourself one last time out of the elevator and down the hall, however instead of the sound of sweet guitar cords you were met with silence.

You anxiously creep down the hallway. When Hobie comes over he always plays his guitar loud enough for the whole floor to hear. As annoying as it was to your neighbors you couldn’t find it in you to ask him to stop, the sweet melody melting the stress right off your bones.

You somehow manage to mangle your key out of your pocket without putting anything down, and as soon as you’re inside you’re dropping your groceries without a care in the world and pulling out your phone.

As you unlock it your worst fear is confirmed, it was Hobie texting you alright. Him not playing his guitar almost certainly meant something was horribly wrong. To make matters worst Hobie had said he had a “surprise” for you. That made the anxiety in your stomach twist even harder, the idea of one of Hobie’s many enemies capturing him, or using you to get to him sparking to life in your mind.

You leave the door to your apartment open a crack, just incase you need to run, and creep down the hallway. The door to your bedroom is open just a crack, and light is spilling out of your room, causing you to hold your breath as you creep closer.

You perch on your toes, hoping to decrease the chance of someone hearing you as you near the door, hands posed at your side, ready to fight for your life or run as fast as your legs could carry you at a moments notice.

You lean on the door frame and push the door open another few inches using the side of your foot, holding your breath as the hinges let out a loud squeak.

When you don’t hear any immediate threats coming from inside the room you carefully shift your weight forward, gripping the door frame like it would keep you from harm.

You feel your heart leap with relief as you see not one of Hobie’s enemies, but Hobie himself. He’s sitting in your desk chair, facing the closed window. He has his guitar in his hands, but that is not what stands out to you. Instead what stands out is the pair of headphones on his head, forcing his wicks out of the way in a messy way that shows he has not taken much care when placing them on his head in the first place.

You scrunch your nose in delight at the comical sight and decide that some teasing is in order, after the near heart attack he gave you.

You creep forward, your movements reminding you of a cat as a Cheshire grin grows on your face. You still completely when you’re in pouncing distance and you see Hobie’s finger still on his guitar strings. A small cue, but one that indicated you’re plan would be foiled if you didn’t attack right… Now!

You pounce forward, you barely feel your nails scrap the thread of Hobie’s shirt before a firm force is pressing on your stomach, pushing you up and over yourself.

You can barely breath, a second and an eternity pass as you crash through the air.

You don’t think you’ve ever hit anything as hard as you just did.

The top of your head and one of your shoulders feel the crunch of the impact first, but it does nothing to slow your movements as your thighs crumple downwards you, and then past you still.

It doesn’t take you long to realize that you’re falling.

Not that you had a long time to realize.

You didn’t realize that you had the instinct to face the ground. Was that something that was impeded in every human? Or were you simply privy to this trait as you saw your boyfriend leap through the air on a near daily basis?

Whatever the cause, your descent is stopped by the feeling of something pulling on your back. It reminds you of how a bully would pull on your backpack in middle school, only if the bully was a double-decker bus instead of a 12 year old.

Your internal debate on the nature of 12-year-old assholes is stopped as you feel an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you in through the cracked frame of a window.

You didn’t remember being pulled in the wrong way through the air. Traveling in reverse. But it would be impossible to forget Hobie’s face staring at you with as much concern as you’ve ever seen on it, eyes wide and almost glassy.

You can feel the tightness of his grip on your shoulders, and you’re sure his fingerprints will be imprinted in your skin. You can see his mouth moving quickly but you can’t hear his voice.

You look vaguely at the busted window frame, the wood is cracked and splintering in nearly a hundred places. You fear your landlords reaction when he sees that. How are you going to explain it?

You feel Hobie gently brushing your forehead with his thumb, pulling you from your thoughts. You look down and see small specks of glass, almost like glitter, dusting your lap. You raise a hand to your head and it comes back a deep vermilion, you swear it sparks the same as that damned glitter.

You feel Hobie’s hand on your cheek, turning your eyes towards him.

“You with me?” Hobie’s eyes are large and concerned, troubled brows peering at you.

You can barely find the strength to make eye contact, mind still far off, falling through the atmosphere, clouds catching in your throat.

You feel Hobie’s firm thumb on your cheek, consistent pressure pulling your mind back down to earth.

“Hey now. Focus on me.”

You blink a few times, and slowly feel your bones becoming solid once more. You can hear the traffic out the window, Hobie’s breathing, feel the warmth of blood on your head. You find your chest naturally matching the rhythm of Hobie’s as he breathes deeply, prompting you to copy him.

You go to reach up to your head once more, intent of seeing how bad your injury is, but Hobie grabs your wrist and pulls your hand back down.

He stares at you for an intense moment before he scoops you up bridal style, being so incredibly gentle as he stands.

“Let’s get you cleaned up Luv.” He sounds more quite and subdued then you have ever heard him. He walks oh so gently, slow and smooth so as not to bump or jostle you.

He sits you down on the counter of the bathroom gently, and pulls a first-aid kit out from under the sink. Typically it is you patching him up after patrol, looks like the tables have turned this time.

He works in utter silence. His first mission is staunching the wound on your head. It’s no where near the point of requiring stitches, it had simply bleed a lot as head wounds are prone to doing. He cleans the wound efficiently, and before you know it the wound is hidden by a thick, white bandage on your forehead.

The rest of your wounds are thankfully small, and don’t take much treatment. After a few wipes from a damp cloth and some Neosporin your wounds are treated. The only evidence that still prove the incident occurred recently is your blood stained clothing.

Hobie stays in the same spot he was in as he treated your wounds, hovering almost. His normally large presence has shrunk and if your didn’t know better you’d say he was trying to hide himself away from you.

You are staring at your hands, finding your fingers very interesting as the intense silence clouds the air, closing in around your throat you want to say something to break it, but your throat chokes in on itself as soon as you open it.

“I’m sorry.”

Hobie looks so small as he whispers those words to you. His hands are ghosts on your thighs, you can feel him, but you’ve never felt so separated from him. He eyes the tile of the bathroom and you can practically see him beating himself up, pulling away from you in a belligerent attempt to protect you.

You gently place a hand on his cheek and turn his face towards yours, forcing him to look at you. “I don’t blame you.”

“I know.”

“I still trust you.”

He glanced away from you briefly, and blinks aggressively like he’s fighting off tears. “Are you sure you should?”

Instead of a verbal response you take one of his hands from your thigh and guide it your head, setting the tips of his fingers right on the thick bandage that lays there. “This is proof that you care. That it was an accident and we both regret it. I trust you with my life.”

He suddenly lurches forward, pulling you into his body with a sob. You hold him gently as he cries into you, rubbing his back comfortingly, letting him feel his emotions and let them out.

You have no idea how long you sat there on your bathroom counter, blood stained clothing as you try to piece back together the broken pieces of your boyfriend without any words. But none were needed.

[fisheito]

My favourite fantasy lately is Kuya kidnapping Eiden and bringing him to a house in the woods to punish him for endangering himself during some adventure. Kuya keeps Eiden in bondage and constantly on edge, teasing and denying him. And Eiden just takes it without asking to be let out, allowing Kuya to vent his fear and frustration, because he's nice like that.

But, at some point, even the strongest little soldiers break, and just when Eiden is about to shatter from all the stress and Kuya's oppressive anxiety, Quincy comes for the rescue. He's the only one who managed to find that little wooden shack in the middle of nowhere (you know, because Kuya's allowed him to), and he comes in and persuades Kuya to relent.

Kuya hasn't even given Eiden any dick in all the (three? four?) days they've been at it, so serious he was about the discipline aspect!

Eiden cries when Kuya finally fucks him, and Quincy makes him spill

this just reminds me of Billowing Wildfire Kuya R2 where eiden saID sO HImself

i would not be surprised if kuya went full speed into an evil edging hostage situation because he doesn't know how to process eiden's mortality

[cent-scratchnsniff]

grade 9 fixer :) i am very sane :) and havent been incredibly stir crazy and perhaps over analyzing everything since the very moment hes come on screen :) oh god. it is nice to finally draw the guy

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2025: ADRIFT IN CURRENTS CLEAN AND CLEAR by Seanan McGuire.

Ah, yes, my favorite January tradition: heartbreak in tiny series installment form :)

This one is about a turtle-obsessed disabled Russian girl who gets adopted by an American family and fitted for a prosthetic she doesn't ask for, want, or need, and then she splashes through her Door.

I love Russian language and culture things (shout out to accidentally double minoring in college), so I was excited for a Russian protag and a Russian-coded Door world! Excellent enrichment in my enclosure. Neat cultural expansion on the Wayward Children universe (multiverse? cosmos?? insert appropriately scaled setting word here).

I also liked the aquatic nature of Belyyreka--terrifying giant frogs and delightful giant turtles and delightful talking foxes on the riverbanks were all lovely, and the worldbuilding about different weights of water was neat! Very mind-bendy kind of setting, I dig it.

This installment felt very slim (146 pages in my copy), and Our World Heavy--the first 46 pages were in Colorado, and the last 100 were in Belyyreka, but it felt like we did More Frequent and Larger Time Skips in Belyyreka compared to Earth? Kind of speedrun mode, sans Quests, really (this one was a lot more oriented toward Finding/Building Your Family, which was signposted pretty clearly upon our arrival in Belyyreka). Mostly a quieter installment up until the, y'know, Typical Impending Tragedy of Return at the end. (Did I almost put it down at 1AM last night with 30 pages left so everyone could Be Happy? perHAPS,)

Overall: I had a good time! But, ow, my heart (once again and forever).

[lanaevyssmoved]

yknow i think if candor was following me around id be feeling as overconfident as afhiri is

[iwatcheditbegin]

I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but I’m just curious as to what a statement from Taylor would do. Do people think she isn’t just as devastated by this?

[gamebunny-advance]

Sus.

I just need to get this story off my chest because it's been bothering me since it happened. It's nothing really relevant to what I usually post or anything that's happened here, so feel free to skip this "story" if the subject matter offends you.

Content Warning for minors in implied sexual situations.

So, Youtube likes to recommend cartoon review/analysis videos to me, even of shows I've never watched. Sometimes I watch them because I like watching people be passionate about any given subject.

But other times they can be a little cringe because it's still grown adults yelling about cartoons, ya know? I'm happy that they've got something they're passionate enough about to sink so much time and effort into a video, but that doesn't automatically make me share their enthusiasm, especially if it's coming from a place of a bad faith criticism.

For the most part, I just move on from videos that give that vibe, but I recently came across one that disturbed me in a way that no one in the comments was really pointing out because they were too busy agreeing with the sentiment that the cartoon in question was bad.

The video was about some reboot for Tiny Toon Adventures (I literally know nothing about it other than what the video told me, and at this point I'd rather not learn anything more about it).

The video had pretty high production values all things considered, with a lot of original animation and art, like actual lip-synching on the avatar and detailed backgrounds as opposed to the static sprites on single colored/patterned backgrounds I usually see among cartoon critics.

I didn't stay long enough for the credits or check the description, but presumably all the art was done by the speaker/creator. Due to this, I was impressed enough to stick around to see what he had to say. Generally speaking, you just don't put that amount of effort into something that you're not passionate about, and I'm here for the passion first and opinions second.

The first talking point was about how the show apparently changed the relationship between the lead characters, Babs and Buster Bunny, from friends/lovers to siblings. This was gotten across in the usual way of the speaker overacting how angry/shocked they are about what is honestly a mundane change in the grand scheme of things. This was turn-off number 1 because I don't find the "caustic critic" to be that funny, especially when it's in service to bad faith criticisms. But, that wasn't what really disturbed me.

What set off a red flag to me, was the "skit" that followed.

The speaker detailed a situation where children, illustrated as a young girl and young boy, who were fans of the new reboot would eventually go back and watch the original show and be corrupted due to them misunderstanding the characters' relationship as being incestuous. I thought that this point was heavily exaggerated (as bits of this nature tend to be), but it's still not what disturbed me.

What disturbed me was how one of the sight gags to illustrate this point was to show the children wearing character themed underwear.

I'm not saying the underwear was drawn as a separate prop that they were implied to be wearing. I mean that as a part of the gag, I was forced to briefly look at two children standing in their underwear for no good reason. And to get to that gag, the characters were first fully dressed in merch before revealing their underwear underneath.

So not only was I forced to look at two children standing in their underwear, but they were literally undressed in front of me to make that "joke".

And immediately following that, I'm also forced to look at the girl child wrapped up in a spiderweb about to be eaten by a giant spider to illustrate the point that the kids are now trapped in some sort of "mindweb" from the confusion.

So me, knowing that tying people in spiderwebs is an uncommon but real fetish, felt deeply uncomfortable by this scene occurring right after the children were shown half naked.

Like, I'm not accusing that creator of anything because none of this is proof of any wrongdoing or bad intention outside of the bad faith criticism of the show. But I will say that I was so disturbed by this that I literally couldn't watch the rest of the video, so I don't know if it got worse from there.

But to try and prove that I'm not trying to say this in bad faith, I'll grant a couple of "outs":

The children weren't drawn particularly realistically: they were stick figure-esque in comparison to the more detailed art in the rest of the video that I saw. If the artist really wanted to detail these children, they probably would have, so I don't believe the drawings were meant to be especially gratifying.

I also know that cartoon print underwear is a shorthand for the character wearing them to be obsessed with the cartoon on the underwear. It's literally a joke from the Spongebob Movie, so if this guy was old enough to have been a fan of the original Tiny Toons, then he probably would have been in the age range to watch that movie and internalize that joke (or seen it elsewhere in a different cartoon). So it's possible that he might not have considered the implications of showing a child in a similar situation.

Additionally, while I don't recall much of Tiny Toons, I know that it's one of those shows that while it's made for children/general audiences, has a lot of mature humor, so maybe he thought he was doing the same thing without considering the implications of what he'd done.

Which is basically the same justification as the last point, but really the only way I can imagine someone thinking any of that was okay is ignorance.

But your dear ol'Sammy has been around the block a few times. Even though I can easily make up reasons why all this could be completely innocent/accidental, I feel like I can tell the difference between someone who made an honest mistake, and someone that is incapable of hiding what they really are. And this is sadly falling under the latter.

I always hope that I'm wrong in situations like this. I hope that I'm just paranoid and there's no malice at play here because my goal is not to punish wrongdoing, it's to make sure that other people are safe. But I can't ignore a red flag once I see it, and it was driving me crazy that no one seemed to be acknowledging it.

I won't link the video here because I don't want it to spread around, but if you really want to seek it out, then I've probably given enough information for you to find it on your own and make your own judgement about it.

[sucktacular]

I miss the days where existing online was a fun thing for ppl with social anxiety to make friends on instead of like Life 2.0 ya know

[whatever-letmebe]

You know what I hate? When people keep touching somebody who made it very clear that they do not want to be touched. Please be considerate of your touch-averse fellow humans and just generally respect personal boundaries, thank you!

[padfootastic]

in a turn of events that doesn’t surprise anyone im sure, @impishtubist has caused yet another scene to be stuck in my head until i wrote it down. so, have some sexy, greying sirius; a deeply thirsty, appreciative james who won’t let him dye it; and a very-fed-up-of-his-parents-antics harry for prongsfoot wednesday!

x

Harry entered the house with ‘I’m home!’ on his lips that died an instant death as soon as he registered what he was seeing.

“Er,” he hesitated. Does he really want to—? One more look at the scene in front of him and he decided to bite the bullet. Better to clear the air now than keep stewing on it later.

“Um. Is this a—kink? A fetish? Should I leave and never come back?”

In any other scenario, the way both his parents froze and looked at him with wide eyes would’ve been comical.

If only Dad wasn’t straddling his Papa on the ground, one of his hands holding both of Papa’s above him with disturbing ease.

“Er—“

“It’s not what it looks like, Haz!” Dad yelped, cutting across Papa who’s face and neck were turning a steady pink. “I swear.”

“Then why are you still—like that?” Harry asked, deciding to play it safe and look at the boring grey couch in the living room instead. Nothing scandalous going on there.

He could hear the scrambling of feet, a few thumps, and a mini-yelp, absently wondering about the amount of noise the simple act of getting up could produce.

“Right.” Dad cleared his throat. “So, Harry, would you please tell your Papa that he is, under no circumstances, allowed to dye his hair?”

Harry blinks, turning to his other, exasperated, father in silent question.

“Harry, will you please tell your Dad that this is my hair and I can do with it as I please?”

“Not when you promised yourself to me!” Dad yelps and Harry is hit with an intense wave of regret at instigating this.

“Promised—?”

“Yes! Our wedding, you said, and I quote, ‘I give myself to you, James Potter, mind, body and soul’, don’t tell me you forgot.”

“Of course I didn’t forget,” Papa throws his hands up in the air. “But c’mon James—this is not what I meant when I said body!”

“What, you think I only wanted you for that ars—“

“Dad!” Harry, yelps, mortified. He can feel his cheeks heating in a violent blush. He can feel a similar flush creeping up Papa’s neck. Sadly, his words don’t have the deterring effect he’d intended.

“I mean, it is spectacular, don’t get me wrong, but you’re more than just a beautiful body, Si!”

“James, please, have some mercy for our child, if not me,” Papa says. Thankfully, this seems to register as Dad’s eye widened, part horror and part apology. Harry waves it away tiredly; though he’s no less embarrassed every time it happens, growing up in the Potter household with two extremely affectionate parents has exposed him to much worse. He’s accepted it as his lot in life.

“Er—yeah, anyway,” he coughs, ruffling his hair, “Bottom line—Sirius isn’t allowed to dye his hair.”

“I literally never agreed to that.”

“Too bad because you will,” Dad says, slowly moving towards Papa with a look on his face that Harry is loath to describe as predatory. If only it wasn’t so true.

“Oh?” Papa’s left eyebrow rises extraordinarily high, as it tends to do quite often. He crosses his arms over his chest in challenge. The motion makes his Dad smile.

“Mhm.” The two of them are chest-to-chest by this point, staring into each other’s eyes. Harry could probably conduct a whole rave party right here, right then, and they wouldn’t even notice. That is when he decides it’s high time he should step in—not literally, Merlin, no—before they end up doing something that makes him try to run away (again).

“So I was right—it is a kink,” Harry says dryly, once again regretting starting this entire conversation in the first place. He should’ve just turned back around and gone to the Weasleys instead.

“Harry, no—“

x

Three years later, Harry—who’s almost blissfully forgotten about the entire incident—walks into his parents’ house to an almost identical scene, just with his Papa on top this time. This time, he makes the sensible choice he still regrets not making all those years ago, and walks right back out the door.

Let those two sort it out on their own. Merlin knows his intervention hadn’t helped a bit the last time around.

[mangio-formaggio]

Had HSM trilogy marathon recently and now I'm in desperate need of the Part 4 where everyone have a middle life crisis. It would fix me and my quarter life crisis.

[j-esbian]

thinking abt how much of my life i’ve lost to depression and i truly want to throw up

[skitskatdacat63]

I'm so paranoid. My cats were downstairs knocking off books from a table, but all I hear is banging, and my house is old so random shit like that shakes the house somehow. So I'm sitting here in pure fear, imagining someone breaking in and then I go downstairs and I'm like oh. Cat.