#humans may be comforting

[gardeningintrests]

humans are weird- mental health

now that i think about it, everyone and every living thing will have severe mental health issues upon being put in a bad situation or environment, like how dogs and cats will sometimes get anxious and yell and bite at you if you are a bad owner. and how some plants will be scared when you are a person who has done harm to it before.

so now I wonder, will aliens or other species and life tackle this mental health thing? or do they, like animals and plants, just think it's some form of instinct?

lets see how this goes baby

(also, my apologies for the weird English and maybe a switch between the UK and US ver of the language)

as the Terrans announce they have made a station at a dwarf planet near the Intergalactic Transportation Centre (ITC) that specializes in the form of psychology hospital for checkups and therapy sessions.

a few of the more advanced species in the Galactic Union were happy and most of the latter were confused.

psychology? hospital? what is this, do the Terrans think lowly of us so much that they had opened up a "mental hospital"?

upon seeing the rage of 99% of the Galactic Union ( Many species within systems, something like the EU on Earth) because of this newly opened hospital/ clinic/ office that made others feel they are unwell in the head, the Terrans called upon a press conference.

"We have heard of the unhappy feedback of the newly opened office. And I am sure all of you are aware that we humans are one of the sentient species that specializes in biology, especially the brain." The human, dressed in black with a white inner collar shirt paired with a black tie, a way of dressing different from their military, must be one of the Congressmen or a high authority figure.

"We opened this clinic/ hospital/ office because of various reasons. One is because as much more humans are traveling through the galaxies with the crew they are assigned or out on missions and events, we can safely say that more than 30% of our population, are in space, always on the go."

why do the human keep on talking useless speech? why do they not go straight to the point of this conference? such a waste of time.

"However, space travel isn't easy. it isn't quick either. so our kind has to sit through a very long transport, deal with their business, which takes roughly around a few months to a few years, and return back to home world where another long period of transport is needed."

do humans think they are the only ones with this problem? they might be new but they sure are demanding and self-centered aren't they?

"due to this fact, many become homesick and are dealing with chronic depression from the uncomfortable traveling and all the foreign work needed to do. with this and our conducted survey for both our kind and everyone else in the Galactic Union, we have deemed that unfortunately, many of our and your kind are in a very bad situation in terms of mental health "

the human sent everyone who is watching this channel or present a link to a video created by humans ( the link is in the word mental health)

what... what is this? mental health?

upon watching the video, X'aangrak't seemed to understand now. he now understands why humans were so awfully looking all the time.

"because of the risk of illness and the result that comes after we do not wish for our allies and our kind to fall into such a despairing place. we know we are not the only ones with the problem of homesickness, workplace bullying, abuse of power, and many other negative actions. generations, and generations, we and all of the life here have tried the resolve the issue of lives committing suicide acts just to come back to square 1"

the human wasn't wrong, lives are unique, and they are only able to form under the perfect circumstances in a system. so suicide cases is one of the major issues that the council of the Galatic Union has sought to fix

" so we come up with a plan, to not only help our kind but also all of the life that is existing in the Galaxy."

That's a bold move, how is a hospital full of drugs and equipment going to help us? if the issue the Galatic Union can't do anything to resolve this, how do they think they are going to do so?

" as us Terrans, although great at talking, is not so great in terms of communicating our thoughts and feelings. This is very well-known back at homeworld, so humans throughout history have studied how emotions and feelings affect a person and have made effective treatments and even categories of why a specific person is dysfunctional." oh really?

" so, for the sake of yourselves and your kind. the Galatic Union has come this far thanks to all of you. however it is undeniably true that space travel and work, is a heavy subjects that all of us carry inside, the pain sorrow, and tiredness you feel will eventually bring you down to the depths of despair and agony. so for your sake of yourself, give a visit to the new centre we opened, it is specialized in our feeling and emotion.'

...

" Be not afraid of letting your emotions go sometimes, as to be healthy is to cry, and soothe your own person, it is not a shameful act. but a powerful one That, is the end of my conference."

as the human steps down the stage and heads back to the vehicle transport, many reporters tried asking questions and begging for answers, but to no avail. no reply, just like how the humans in speeches and public has been

maybe... maybe i should give the centre a chance...

as X'aangrak't looks outside of his crew ship, with no one to talk to and always alone despite everyone on the ship. while the stars shone brightly outside in the galaxy, there has always been this feeling in his chest, maybe this time

he will feel better

[leafyeyes417]

To soothe myself from my last post where it’s non-Joker hate *shudders* here have this.

————————————————————————

The first three months of Danny’s stay in Gotham had been mostly quiet. No big Rogue attacks since most of them were in Arkham. Unfortunately that had come to an end. There was a mass breakout and among them was the Joker.

Danny had made friends with a couple people, during his classes, and had met his new crush Tim at a coffee shop. He was actually with Tim when they got the news about the breakout. They had been walking out to Tim’s car so he could be driven home when it happened.

Tim’s POV

He had been talking with Danny when he saw him shudder and stop walking.

He frowned, turning towards him. “Danny? What’s wrong?” He watched as Danny paled, full body twitched, then his eyes turned a glowing red that took over his entire eyes. He snarled, face almost inhuman as he turned and booked it down the street at inhuman speeds (though nowhere near Flash speed).

Scrambling Tim jumped in his car and chased after Danny, though he quickly lost him. He grabbed his com and turned it on. “Oracle, I need you to track someone.” He quickly rattled out along with the street information and Danny’s description.

“Red Robin, report.” Batman growled out.

“I was walking with my friend back to my car after we heard the news of the breakout. On the way there he froze and then… I’m not quite sure but whatever it was I don’t think he was in control anymore.”

There was silence for a few moments on the coms. Oracle spoke, “I think I found his location. The cameras are fritzing out big time in a decent area near your location.”

When he managed to get there he was honestly a little sickened. There was body parts and blood everywhere. Joker goons, from the occasional mask lying around. Swallowing he ventured deeper into the zone, having to turn off his coms due to the screeching interference.

When he finally set his eyes on Danny it was to see him arm deep into the Joker’s chest. He paused, watching as the Joker’s body fell to the floor, his heart still in Danny’s hand. He watched as Danny’s eyes stopped glowing red and he swayed, dropping the heart to bring a hand to his head.

“Danny?” He asked hesitantly.

Danny turned, a hazy expression on his face. “Tim?” He slurred out.

Quickly making his way over he managed to prevent Danny from toppling over, grimacing at the blood now coating his hand. He noticed the other bats and birds arriving on scene out of the corner of his eye, but stayed focused on Danny. “Let’s get you out of here.” He said gently as he guided Danny out of the area.

Later, after he had managed to get Danny some water and a bit of food, he asked, “Do you remember what happened, Danny?” His friend looked down at his blood covered hands. “I remember walking to your car when it was like I was being grabbed by a bunch of hands and I couldn’t move. Then… it almost felt like I was being stuffed into a box or something and everything was hazy and indistinct after that. I tried fighting it but it like catching smoke. Then I was being released but it was like I had no energy. I know you called my name but I don’t recall much until after you gave me the energy bar.”

Tim frowned, glancing at Black Bat. He saw her sign “true” and nodded. Looks like they might have to call the JLD on this one.

[slavhew]

boys cry. real men weep.

[scatterbrainedbot]

redraw of one of my very first tmnt drawings!!

had meant to do it exactly the one year later mark, but i blinked and suddenly april was may was june -- so ended up being more like a year and 1.5 months lol

May 11th, 2024 vs. April 6th, 2023

its so funny seeing them nest to each other now, but i remember when i finished the first version last year, i was so proud to have finally made a proper 'finished' piece.

like, yall, i struggled for years to every be able to create a piece i would ever call close to 'done'. part of that is me being a very knit-picky kinda person, and wanted to continue to tweak everything all of the time forever, but on top of that i also do work slow af, and before last year i didnt really have access to any digital media. and i love traditional mediums, but im defintiely not practiced enough to be able to get the results i was looking for with any sort of speed. like im genuinely not sure i created a single 'finished' work in my life -- not in school, not in work, not even in the free space of silly fandom doodles.

and then this piece happened!

and i knew even then that it was messy and rough af, but it had a background!! and color!! sure, the linework wasnt polished at all but still, for a silly little fanart? it was defined enough to distinguish the separate characters, and read expressions! there was even a little tiny bit of lighting!! i hate lighting!!

seeing the two versions side by side honestly i kinda have to laugh at how Rough the first version looks now. but you know what. im still so so proud of it. the colors are muddy, theres no shift in value; their clothing designs arent at all defined, leos teeth look weird af and theres lines on caseys face that are definitely from me accidentally dragging my fingers across the tablet when i didnt mean to but like. its there! its finished! i did it!

idk. ive never had a piece ive ever wanted to hang on my own fridge before. :)

[snipersfucker]

request from @infintyfandoms: Thought! Mirage is always so reckless, well what if one time he went too far and hurt his friend or s/o (either)?? I feel like he’d blame himself so bad - even if he was blind sighted by a distracted driver. Never drive crazy again or not drive around again or what??

angsty mirage x fem!reader times. thought of making it a headcanon thingy but nah. this one might need a warning that there are descriptions of serious injuries. and im also writing this on 0 hours of sleep thank you very much

A silver Porsche parked in front of the vinyl store you just walked out of was catching the attention of every passerby. Both men and women's eyes were stopping on the vehicle for a bit longer than they would on any regular car, their heads turning slightly to allow them to do that.

Mirage loved that. He loved transforming in different models everyday, the next one even more prestigious than the one before. Just to get that attention every single time.

You noticed a couple of teenage girls staring at your boyfriend, and even though you were fully aware they were doing so only because he was a good-looking car, you still rolled your eyes at it.

Your feet led you to the Porsche and you hopped in. Before getting the chance to point out the shameless staring of the group of teens, Mirage spoke up, "Whatcha got there?"

Your gaze had shifted to the vinyl case before you placed it down on the passenger's seat without much thought.

"Music," you responded casually in a light tone, putting your hands on the steering wheel, even though you knew Mirage would be doing the driving. "You got fans," you murmured under your breath but Mirage could obviously hear it. Your eyes landed on the girls again, and although you weren't particularly jealous, you still didn't appreciate it too much.

"Hell yeah, I do, baby," he said proudly, the grin in his voice palpable, even though you couldn't see it at the moment. And then, he added, a little bit more quietly as if he was saying this to the man who literally stopped in front of the car to admire him, "You wish you looked like that, huh?"

You let out an amused snort, and patted the gear stick with your palm to give him a sign to drive out of the parking lot. "C'mon."

"Let me honk at him," he'd asked for your permission seconds before doing it anyway without you allowing him to, causing the man to jump in his spot and then walk away. You just smacked the passenger's seat in disapproval, not even going on a rant about his behaviour because it was a daily occurrence for Mirage to do whatever he wanted.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, offended by your sudden reaction, as if he wasn't used to it, "I'm all for violence unless it's directed towards me," he muttered, sounding like an annoyed child. Then, without any warning, he revved the engine and drove out of the parking lot onto the main road. You only rolled your eyes without a word but then, you noticed how fast he was passing all the other cars in his lane, which he would usually cuss out for being slow, as if their owners weren't driving under the speed limit for safety reasons.

"Mirage…" you warned him, using his full name instead of a nickname, which he did not appreciate but decided not to speak on it and just change the topic.

"Jus' tell me it's not George Michael," he said with a short sigh, as if it was very important to him that it, in fact, was not George Michael.

"Mirage..." you warned him once again, ignoring his words, gripping the steering wheel with much more force now to hopefully get him to slow down.

"Nope," he said simply, understanding what you meant without you even having to say it. If he was in his humanoid form, he'd probably cross his arms on his chest and shake his head with that signature smirk indicating that he knew he was in control of the situation. "That's what you get for hitting your poor boy," he added, sounding very content with himself, revving the engine once more just to show you that he, in fact, was not planning on slowing down.

You scoffed. "You deserved it."

"For what?" he began talking in that specific, overly innocent tone, and you just knew he was going to say something sarcastic that would only annoy you even more, "For being so cute and funny?" He asked rhetorically, as if he wasn't aware that he really needn't have honked at that man, and then drive as recklessly as he normally would when you weren't inside him.

But he was very much aware. It was just that his pride didn't allow him to apologise.

"For being a little shit." You decided not to banter with him as per usual, but just to get straight to the point. Even though you were possibly risking starting an argument between you two, you just needed to reprimend him at the moment, especially now that you noticed how nonchalant he was about it.

"Ouch," he pretended to be hurt by what you just said. And although he wasn't actually offended, he still wasn't really in the mood to let you win.

So he sped up even more.

Noticing the opportunity presented right in front of him, the almost empty road ahead of you two, he floored the gas pedal, making you let out a short, quiet noise at the impact in which you got pushed back into the seat.

"What the fuck are you doing?" you asked him with anger in your voice, not raising it just yet, and not actually expecting a response. But you got one anyway:

"Takin' you on a ride date, baby," he answered sarcastically, his overly sweet tone making him sound even more annoying than before.

"Mirage, I—"

If he wasn't as sure in his abilities as he was, he'd never drive over three times faster than the speed limit allowed, never wanting to actually risk you getting hurt in any way.

And it wasn't even his fault, when a sport's car drove right into his left side, before you could even finish your sentence.

It wasn't his fault that the car ran a red light, that it was supposed to stop and wait for him to just drive away without getting thrown to the right by the impact.

It wasn't his fault that he was now rolling over for the fifth time, his roof and sides hitting the hard asphalt every single time.

You weren't even making any noises anymore so that he would know that you were with him, conscious, alive. He ignored the sound of his glass shattering, his metal body getting scratched, bent and painfully ruined, just to be able to hear your breath.

The other car was in a much worse condition, but he didn't care. The only thing occupying his mind was you, your heartbeat he would do anything to hear again. He needed to make sure you were still there.

He felt it all. He felt the pain that came with getting drove into by another car, with flipping over with unimaginable speed and force. But he needed to make sure you were alright.

And he couldn't even do anything to stop his worst nightmare from beginning to play right in front of his very optics.

Then, after a few moments that felt like hours to him, everything finally came to an end. The hiss coming out of him was still hearable, the hot steam, the liquid pouring out of his fual lines threatened to mix with the flames growing with every passing second. But it was finally quiet; no noise of metal hitting the asphalt distracted him from listening to your body.

His spark nearly exploded with relief when he heard the faint sound of your heartbeat. He wanted to transform, to be able to hold you, to get you out of him so that his bent roof wouldn't be pressing against your wounded head.

When people began to gather up around him, he realised he had a decision to make: to transform and risk getting hunted down just like it happened to Bumblebee, or to stay there and pray to Primus, pray to the people now surrounding him that they'd help you and make sure you were okay.

He wanted to scream at them to hurry up, to get you out, to make that heartbeat of yours sound more promising. To let him know that you weren't going to—

The idea of losing you forever crossed his mind for a split second before he could even stop it.

And it was his fault that he was going a lot over the speed limit, too distracted by the need to tease you, to win the argument, and show you that you had nothing to say in the way he was behaving.

It was his fault that there was crimson running down your forehead, the drops rolling past the hairs of your eyebrows, all the way down to your jaw, then staining your shirt with your own blood.

It was his fault that your body felt lifeless against his ruined upholstery, the only motion it was making was an almost undetectable rise of your chest every couple of seconds.

His train of thoughts got interrupted by the distant sound of sirens getting closer and closer to him. The people were talking, someone was yelling, it all making an irritating mixture of human noises he didn't need to hear at the moment.

Mirage felt his left door being opened or rather being torn out of him in a couple painful motions. He didn't care.

He just wanted them to take you away from him.

When he no longer felt your weight on his driver's seat, he almost let a sound of relief through his radio, but just now noticed that it's been ruined, making it impossible for him to do so. He hadn't paid attention to it earlier, too stunned to be able to say anything to you, even though your name and endless questions if you were okay wanted to escape him.

Cold liquid hit his hot metal body, the lower temperature of it somewhat helping him get in a clearer state of mind. Even though he felt deserving of being on fire, he appreciated the slight relief it gave him.

Somebody placed you on a stretcher, put you carefully in another vehicle, and then closed the door. He couldn't see you anymore but was sure the humans would take good care of you. Better care than he was able to offer.

The loud sirens hit his audio receptors before he registered the ambulance leaving the crash site.

And the sound was still bouncing against the interior walls of his helm every single day since the accident. The imagine of your limp body, his steering wheel covered in your blood, your head pressed uncomfortably against the remains of his left window...

Two whole weeks passed and he couldn't think of anything else but you. You in that horrible state he put you in himself.

The guilt was eating him alive, and even though he'd make Noah visit you everyday in the hospital to make sure your condiction was stable, he still couldn't help but beat himself up and be worried sick.

"Concussion, five broken ribs, broken arm and nose, and she was fucking bleeding from her liver, man," your mutual friend told him after leaving the hospital for the first time, after the doctors allowed anybody to visit you, even though you weren't conscious yet.

It affected Noah nearly as much as it did the robot. The only difference was that the human had no reason to blame himself for it, because it wasn't his recklessness that nearly killed you.

Mirage fell silent.

He got quiet, very quiet, unusually for him. Every Autobot he used to hang out with knew what happened, how much you meant to him, and how affected he was by the accident. They noticed the sudden shift in his behaviour, the once bubbly personality disappearing just so he could dwell in guilt in peace.

The thing that bothered him a lot among others was that he couldn't see you. He couldn't walk into the hospital you were being taken care of in. He couldn't sit next to you and tell you how painfully sorry he was for doing it to you, for putting you in danger, for hurting you so much your pain radiated off you body and made him feel it, too.

Noah insisted on repairing him, and he agreed purely because then he'd be able to park in front of the hospital to be as near you as possible.

But he was a wreck, both physically and emotionally.

And it still didn't change when you finally got discharged. He was not the one to pick you up from the hospital, it was Noah and Bee. He couldn't face you.

You asked about him when you woke up from the coma, your friend sitting next to you on the uncomfortable hospital chair only shrugging in response, telling you he didn't know anything about Mirage, where he was or how he was.

It was a lie. The robot was spending his time either in the garage, getting fixed by his only human friend, or out on the road, hoping that maybe, just maybe someone would crash into him again, making him feel that pain again. That pain he thought he deserved for harming you.

And when you insisted on Noah taking you to the garage to see him, after getting the information about his location out of the poor human, Mirage couldn't help but feel even worse than before.

You were alive, of course you were alive, but he also did notice the way you winced with every step, how dull the colour of your skin was compared to the times before the accident, how fragile you looked, standing there in front of him with Noah not leaving your side in case you'd collapse onto the floor.

You were alive, but also in so much pain he couldn't even look at you without feeling a strong sting in his spark.

His optics shifted to Noah in an instant, as if he was trying to bash him for taking you here, which he responded to out loud with his hands raised in a defensive gesture, "She threatened me."

You didn't even know what you were feeling at that moment. A mixture of sadness, annoyance, impatience, and hurt made you unable to say anything, forcing you to just stand there in silence. Suddenly, a short wave of pain washed over your right side, making you grimace and put your only free palm on the area surrounding your liver.

As soon as Mirage noticed your movement, he made an involuntary step towards you, his servos extended in your direction, as if he was trying to both comfort you and catch you if you were to fall.

Noah immediately asked, "You okay?" His eyes shifting between your hand on your side and your pained face. You just nodded.

Uncomfortable silence fell between the three of you, and the other human was close to replacing it with whistling just so that he wouldn't have to stand there awkwardly without a word.

"Imma just leave you two, yeah?" He scratched the back of his neck, his feet already leading him in the direction of the exit. "Jus'... scream if you die or somethin'..." he added, the awkwardness making him joke about things he normally wouldn't joke about.

And then, he left. He left poor Mirage with even poorer you. Alone.

You let out a grunt, making your way to the nearest chair to sit down. He was ready to help you with everything, but he didn't know if you even wanted him to, so he just stayed in his spot.

"You look bad," you commented, lazily motioning to his beaten-up body with your hand. The raspiness, the weakness in your voice almost made him drop to his knees.

He responded unsurely after a pause, a forced, unamused smirk on his face plate, "...You should see the other guy."

It was awkward. Awkward as never before, you two having always found it pretty easy to communicate with each other. But now... Now he couldn't help but feel that unpleasant feeling in his tank when you spoke up and made him say something back to you.

And it was his fault.

Your reaction to his little joke wasn't something you could control. A short, quiet chuckle left your mouth, causing you to grab your right side even more tightly and a wince of pain on your face to deepen.

She can't even laugh.

He felt so excruciatingly bad he had to fight himself not to transform into a car and just drive away.

You wanted to tell him that you've been told the other driver didn't make it. But you knew the war it would start in his mind if you shared that information with him, so you stayed silent.

"You look terrible," he muttered after a few moments of observing your body, as if to himself to comment on the damage he'd done.

You snorted, shaking your head in amusement. "That's exactly what every woman likes to hear," you responded, deciding that a little banter would be better than sitting without any words being exchanged.

Mirage's eyes widened slightly as he took a step towards you, his servos up in the air again in a specific gesture that indicated that he didn't actually mean it like that.

He had this tendency to make things worse with his words, and normally it wouldn't bother him at all, but this time it was you. He didn't want to make thing worse with you.

"No, no, you're pretty. Gorgeous, in my humble opinion. Walking perfection even," he wanted to correct himself, spurting word after word just to show you that he didn't want you to be mad at him. "Geez, I'm sorry," he added, bringing his servos to his face plate to cover it in... embarrassment.

Something new for him.

You shook your head, looking up at him with a small smile. "I do look kinda ter—"

Before you could finish your sentence, he said with much more confidence now, "...For everything."

He rarely apologised.

But you deserved to hear it. Even if you weren't ready to forgive him just yet, even if you were to never forgive him, he just needed you to know that he regretted it.

You frowned, opening your mouth to say something, but he interrupted you again, "Maybe I shouldn't have be the fastest car in Brooklyn that day. Maybe I should've listened to you and not be a little shit," he recalled the way you called him these few weeks ago, just minutes before the accident. With determination in his tone, he continued, "You can hate me, I can take it." But then, he changed his mind as soon as he realised he would prefer if you didn't hate him, "Actually. Hate me for the next three days at max. Please. If you don't want me to rip my vents out."

You snorted weakly once more, the movement of your body making you wince in pain again.

He finally found enough courage within himself to get closer to you. With a couple of steps, he kneeled down in front of you and extended one of his servos in your direction, as if non-verbally telling you to stop laughing and not cause yourself even more pain.

"'m sorry," he whispered his apology again, the sincere look in his optics showing you just how much he cared for you.

"It wasn't y—"

"It was," he interrupted you in a much more serious tone, but it was still filled with softness, "I was stupid..."

"Nothing new," you managed to blurt out before closing your eyes shut and grunting, a grimace on your face as you felt another sting of pain, which you were kind of used to now.

You opened your eyes and looked up at his worried optics observing your every move, his servos desperately wanting to touch and help you but he knew it'd only make things worse due to his size.

You let out a short chuckle at your own joke as soon as your body allowed you to.

"Not funny," he reprimanded you with a serious face, not finding your apparent discomfort amusing at all, even though he agreed with your words.

"You were just making jokes ab—"

"So?"

You rolled your eyes at him. "Child," you insulted him, fully aware how much he hated being called out on his childishness.

"I'm older than your cute little Earth, please," he scoffed.

"No, you're not," you deadpanned.

"...So?"

"I hate you," you said, although a small smile on your lips betrayed you.

"That's the spirit," he sighed but the corners of his lips curled up as well. A beat of silence passed and his gaze went back to your face, "I meant that."

You frowned slightly.

"I am sorry. For being the..." he was about to say something that would hurt his pride and ego, but decided it was worth it, "...the dumbest machine there is. Even a hairdryer is smarter than me," he insulted himself, hoping the sacrifice would make you like him again.

"You're right." You nodded, fighting back a chuckle.

He raised his arms in a playfully offended, confused gesture. "You could at least disagree, damn."

You shook your head in amusement.

After another beat of silence, he said seriously, "You're never coming inside me again."

"Wow."

"Should've worded it better, yeah..." he trailed off, "Primus, woman, give me a break." He let out a small laugh when he noticed your amused reaction to his sentence. "No, seriously... I... You're my girl, yeah? Don't want you to... You know, be in pain."

Why did he have to be so awkward about his feelings? Now that he finally had the chance to show you how much he loved you and never wanted to see you hurt again.

"I still have your..." he wanted to say that he still had your blood on some of his parts that didn't want to come off, but then decided it wasn't the best time to tell you that, "I almost lost my mind when I couldn't hear you," he confessed, his tone regaining its sincerity, the look in his optics describing his guilt to you without words.

He was referring to the moment he was so desperately trying to silence everything around him just to be able to find your heartbeat.

"I'm okay..." Your tone was soft, quiet, as if you were trying not to scare a lost, disoriented puppy.

"You're not okay," he disagreed with a slightly clenched jaw, angry at himself, not even for a second at you, "You..." He lowered himself so that he'd be able to whisper to you, as if saying these words more loudly would make them come true someday, "You almost died... I almost killed you..."

His face panel was close enough to your body for you to put your hand against his warm, metal cheek. Mirage immediately melted at the touch, his optics closing slowly just to allow him to savour the softness of your palm as much as he could.

"It wasn't your fault..." you started your monologue, this time the robot allowing you to continue, "I didn't die. I might have a broken bone or two..." He opened his eyes at this sentence, giving you a sad look. "...But I'll be alright. I didn't die," you repeated, which gained you an unsure nod from your boyfriend, who was now avoiding making eye contact with you.

You didn't force him to look up at you.

"I promise..." he trailed off, not wanting to show you how weak he felt, "I promise I'll never do that again..." His gaze went back to meet yours as you smiled softly, your eyes filled with love you had for him. "I'll never be dumber than a hairdryer, you have my unreliable word. And I'll never argue with you. I'll just say that I'm sorry, and that my woman is always right, and I'll shut up for as long as you want me to. And I... I'll never drive over twenty-five. Yeah, it hurts. But guess what hurts more. Seeing you with a broken bone or two."

Joking might've been the only way he would be able to overcome the sorrow he felt within himself. But it worked both for you and him. You really wouldn't have it any other way.

"Tell me," you whispered with a slight head tilt, slowly closing the gap between your faces.

He frowned, not understanding what you meant by that, but then the small smirk on your lips explained it to him.

He rolled his optics, the remains of guilt still evident in them, although with every passing second and every joke, they seemed to disappear bit by bit.

"'m sorry. My woman is always right," he repeated himself, pretending to find it very boring, as if he didn't really want to admit that. But he did. He did want you to know that he meant every single thing that rolled off his glossa.

Your smile widened immediately, your eyes closing as you minimized the gap between your and Mirage's lips completely.

And then, after long weeks of not being able to forgive himself for hurting the only woman he loved, he was finally able to feel relief.

[thefearfulheart]

Small bit of expansion on the Clownbo timeloop au

Evbo eventually starts to find a strange comfort in the consistency of Clown’s rage at him and while everything always stays the same each time he resets…Clown always is the one person that can always surprise him in the end, something that changes things while everything else stays the same. Someone that Evbo can’t predict in the end and it’s so comforting to him ever since he began looping everything around, trying to change a preset narrative in his own crusade to win against fate and time.

There are times when he thinks about even letting Clown win.

But he enjoys the fact, an insidious thing that clings to his heart, that Clown will always lose to him and it’s…pleasing to see how enraged he gets at every loss, at every almost win that inertly ends with him feeling the pain of death and being forced to look at the man who turned into a god in his final moments. It’s something so consistent about him.

It’s such a comforting thing that Evbo lets Clown freely attack him when they see each other, feels the pain of his fists and can’t help but breath as the pain hits him. How his blood, once crimson now a thick black sludge, stains the other’s hands as he tries to kill him…and he just smiles at him since they both know he won’t die.

And clown is just shaking and breathing so heavily as he straddles him.

And Evbo in such the calmest way possible over the bloodshed…

Drags clown for a hug.

Something so tight and painful that it makes clown heave in pain and fight to get out of it, thrashes in his arms like an angry wolf. Clawing and biting until he exhausts himself.

[ingravinoveritas]

Just wanted to share a few thoughts on the BAFTAs today, now that I've had a bit of time to process the day's events (and am no longer running around cooking Mother's Day dinner)...

I feel like this was a sort of roller coaster of an event, as so many of us were hoping/expecting to see Michael on the red carpet, given David's nomination for playing Crowley in GO 2. In many ways, it was strange and even jarring to see David without Michael, especially while wearing such a gloriously Crowley-coded suit, but mainly because they are now truly a group of the two of them, a packaged set, peanut butter and chocolate.

And yet, seeing David talking about Good Omens and Michael (referring specifically to the Michelle Visage interview, which I adored just because of how they vibed together, in much the same way that Michael was vibing with Sir Ian McKellen on Graham Norton a few months ago), the way he teased the possibility of more kisses in S3 and so effortlessly ran with Michelle saying "Michael Sheen kisses" instead of "Aziraphale and Crowley kisses"...all of that made it feel like Michael was present. Like whatever mark he and David left on each other after the last six months was fully and completely visible without being visible.

I also loved seeing David so brimming over with confidence and self-assurance--something that wasn't there specifically because of Michael or Georgia or anyone else, but because of David himself. I feel like said qualities are most especially apparent in this gorgeous picture:

We talk so much about the suits and how Joshua Kane or Mithridate dress him so exquisitely, but I think something that gets overlooked sometimes is that what makes these suits look as beautiful as they do is David himself. The way he carries himself when he wears them, and how there seems to be such a perfect congruity between how he feels on the inside and how he looks on the outside. Again, this is not saying that David hasn't worn flamboyant or flashy suits in the past (the velvet ones of course come to mind), but there definitely seems to be something special about him wearing these suits, at this specific moment in time.

I also really loved one particular photo of him with the suit jacket off/sleeves rolled up. Again, it's not only the clothes themselves (and how gorgeously they hang on him), but also how it felt like a moment of just...letting go of something. It also immediately brought to mind the photo of Michael with his bow tie undone at the NTAs after party in 2021:

(Granted I'm fairly certain David is tipsy/a bit drunk in the photo on the left, but somehow that damn hint of a bare forearm felt as daring and racy as seeing an ankle in the Victorian era...)

As to what David was "letting go" of, we can't know for sure, but it looked like something was released, and that he was just so fully present and being himself on the red carpet. I'm so proud of him, so delighted by this new, carefree David that I don't think we've ever seen before, but that I absolutely do hope we will continue to see in the future.

Those are my thoughts on the 2024 TV BAFTAs, for whatever they may be worth. I'd love to know what you all thought of David on the red carpet, and if anyone else noticed some of these things, too...

[brucewaynehater101]

Alright. I suffer from chronic pain and there's no way the batfam doesn't as well. They brutalize their bodies by pushing them to the extremes, not resting when they get injuries, and keep a rigorous workout.

I need more fics where the batfam has to wear compression gloves/socks/etc. They rely on heating and ice packs because it's just one of those days. I want fics where they complain and grow upset because they should be able to power through the pain, but by the gods does that take so much energy. They have multiple discussion on what they should be able to handle and what they can handle. There needs to be arguments about overreliance and under reliance on pain medication. They should get mad and frustrated and sad that they have to feel pain even after the fighting is over and they've healed.

I need the 4 am meetings in the kitchen because their joints ache and they can't sleep. There's different kinds of pains and they, unfortunately, experience them all. At inconvient and annoying times, old injuries and wounds that never healed act up.

They should realize that they are destroying their bodies, they will pay for this if they grow old, but they don't care. They don't care that they're paying for it now, and it'll only get worse.

[rockingrcks]

so i replayed dmc 2 (crazy, i know) for dantelucia content, and playing on lucia's side of the story is so crazy bc it's literally what dante has been going through throughout his whole life

when lucia found out she was a demon and that she could lose herself to that side of her it scares her to the point of wanting to die/to be killed, going as far as to tell dante and arius to kill her bc she doesnt want to hurt others which can be reflected with dante's own views of his demon heritage which is something he feels he couldnt control if he ever taps into it so he does rlly reckless things to cope with it

dante even secludes himself from people and forming relationships outside of trish and lady bc of the fear of hurting them. even with dante's very reckless behavior it can be seen as him self harming which says a lot about his mental health plus the fact that in dmc 2 hes carrying the weight of grief which makes it even worse as seen with him going to hell not even caring on how to get out of it

like both of these characters became reckless ppl when they find out that they have demonic powers and the fact they both cling to the their love for people/family says a lot about their characters

but heres the thing....what makes these two so good to see is the fact that dante comforted lucia and even validated her human idenity by telling her that "devils never cry" and i feel like this line truly stuck with dante bc of what Lady said to him when he cried (basically devils dont cry and u arent rlly a devil if u cried over a love one), its just 3 simple word and yet it holds so much meaning for dante and probably for lucia too which she probably needed at that moment showing how emotionally smart dante is...

dante and lucia's views on their demon heritage is such a good way for them to have a long talk with one another about their feelings and thoughts of being demons and how to control the urge and how protecting people is what makes them human but also feel like its their responsibility bc of their demon heritage....like i need capcom to write more of their relationship or maybe someone just writes it in a fanfic bc their dynamic has so much potential the parallels...the love they have.....it makes me go insane

[jrueships]

zesty lowkey just another way for str8 ppl to say faggot / faggy and get away with it

[allycat75]

You know what Boston Dumb Fuck?

You should just keep her now that you have said her name and Dodger was properly exploited as part of this manipulation. Get that evil ring sized and don't hide it in your pants anymore. You don't want to look like the pervert the general public thinks you are since you "married" someone who looks like a teenager.

And keep ASP. Have more seminars where you fool the youth of America into believing your sincerity, all while you go home to the racist and antisemetic wifey. Hell the way you babbled on and on about how Dodger follows her around the house you have never shared together and how he can read her moods he has never sensed, you lie about as good as the Toxic Orange Cheeto. Should follow in your uncle's footsteps and run for office. That is, unless your family is ashamed of you and what you are presenting yourself to be.

And keep that team of yours. Maybe they can get you into this 5th iteration of Marvel's money grab. You would be great as Captain Hydra considering your other half is a Nazi. You may have to up that special weed you are taking because based on the script they gave you for that Access interview, you don't emote at all! I had to laugh when you said playing Johnny Storm again got you a little emotional. But I guess nothing is authentic about what Marvel is doing so why should your performance be (or anything about you, for that matter).

Have your handlers update your software so you don't run out of juice when you have to face press junkets and read upcoming critic reviews. Hopefully this will provide you that permanent shushing you have been attempting for years, monetarily sedated and spiritually lobotomized.

The only one I feel bad for in this is Jinx. Here they thought they were signing up with America's dog dad, when in fact it was more like Leni Riefenstahl, turning their innocent dog food into Nazi kibble. Sure some outlets may edit out the section in the middle of the Access interview with that lazy, arrogant clout chaser you are trying to help, but the damage is done. Is this your way of "giving back"?

I am sorry I believed there was some hope that you could salvage your soul and would ever tell the truth, that you would have the courage, patience and motivation to care for that last Truffala seed to build back the beauty. But I guess it is ok, you probably would have just destroy it again with more useless Thneeds.

PS- I know this is probably to remind people you are married so it will actually mean something whenever you announce your breakup, but too little, too late. You are a liar. You will always be a liar. Everything you do and say from here on out will be suspect. We'll always be looking for the angle- what do you expect to gain? Even legitimate truths will be dissected. I hope you are prepared for that weight and effort for the rest of your life.

[vagun1ka]

some vent art with ganyu

[ichthyorelationships]

an idea i invite anyone else to write about / run with lol....

the premise that The Change gets all messed up for alberto, say it's something that can happen from stress, &/or happens rarely and you just have to wait for it to resolve itself....used as some parallel to struggling through some emotional turbulence / upheaval / questioning / Realizing Things, etc etc

[seraphic-sibyl]

I should have been born a frog. I should have been born a frog. I should have been born a frog. I should have been born a frog. I should have been born a frog. I should have been born a frog. I should have been

[mettywiththenotes]

Not to mention the importance of this for Izuku too, since he's dehumanized himself many times and especially since the Rogue arc

He's telling someone who needs to hear it that he's human. There's more going on than what's shown on the surface and whatever he's going through, he shouldn't go through alone

[aurumacadicus]

Just had like... the dumbest idea for an original work.

Supernatural universe with a super competent feline race that are excellent at blending in with humans. They're good at everything. Including minding their own business. But that also makes them very good at judging whether other supernatural creatures are putting their world at risk with humans or not. Some are even tasked with being Official Judges for others to bring their grievances before, and others still tasked with carrying out punishments. It is made especially clear that these two classes of the feline race are a very last resort. They live aloof from both sides, only opening up to their own species, and it's considered one of the highest honors when they decide a non-feline is part of their inner circle.

"I don't mean this to be insulting or anything," Human MC asks.

"I will not be offended," Feline Character replies.

".......Are you all autistic," Human MC asks.

Feline Character does an 👌🏼 at them. "We've been masking in mixed company for literally millennia."