#i ranted again

[marsipain]

Norwegian Mikus :)

Left is Miku as a russ and right is Miku in a bunad!

[acid-ixx]

a loving family, an unpalatable desire

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: would anyone hear me out if i ever wrote romantic yan! bruce (ft. platonic yan! batfam AND romantic yan clark kent alongside the superfam ofc) with a neglected spouse reader... because uhm, i've been thinking about it lately just yk... so anyways PLSPLSPLS send in asks about this, ive been thinking about it so much lately.

imagine wanting to raise a family so badly with a man who adopts problem children as a side hustle. you're not some invasive spouse, you've always been good, always been loving, so... so accepting, never questioned where or how he picked them up from the side of the streets, never once complaining about the hickeys on his neck or the once neat tussles of his hair now tangled accompanying lipstick stains on his white suit.

you love your children, you tell yourself all the time. you love them, you love bruce— even if he doesn't love you. you said it in your vows, despite it being scripted, despite your family finally sighing in relief in the sidelines at finally being able to sell you off to one of the wealthiest man in the world, rather than being wasting off under their care— your vows are real.

you wanted someone to love you, unconditionally, so viscerally eternal that it eats you up.

really, all you wanted was to play that fantasy life of trophy house spouses. all you wished for was a loving, healthy relationship. the american dream: the picture perfect family frames, your husband kissing you on the cheek as he leaves for work, your children bickering at the dining room, with the scent of homemade meals wafting about the vicinity. all you wanted was the warmth in your chest to flicker like candlelights. all you dreamed about was that domestic life, an escape from the abusive household you were raised in.

yet the manor is too cold, too unforgiving for a soul such as yours.

the longer you stay inside claustrophobic, yet oh-so large hallways, the quicker you drown in a neverending pool of self-hatred.

but you're not allowed to show them your sufferings. they've been through much worse, you tell yourself. they've suffered more, and as what good spouses do, as what you're taught, you stay silent, enabling them to turn you into their own emotional punching bag.

you only allow yourself to cry at the dead of the night, under the sheets of your too-cold blanket and your too-hot pillows. when the manor is filled with deathly silence and a looming sense of dread and ill fitting thoughts of ifs and when they'll come back in one piece, will you grant yourself temporary respite; worry for a family who never even called you their parent.

yet you've always been so considerate. despite the pang in your chest every time bruce flirts with anymore potential love interest at a gala, you chose to instead monitor your chaotic children, who have always never bat an eye on you despite you always gazing lovingly at them.

you know of their interests, they don't know yours, yet you still give them extravagant gifts on their birthdays, with tired, yet glinting eyes, and a silent excuse to return to your room; one separate from bruce.

you know of bruce's hardships, but you don't push too hard, don't force him to talk, only provide him your silence and an offer to serve him dinner; all the time he refuses without looking at you. you give him comfort only if he ever allows you, only if he allows his walls to crumble— but not even his spouse can amount to a warm, crackling fireplace. to him, you're probably only a matchstick under the deadbeat glaze of the snow in a winter night.

maybe that's why you're such a ghost in the manor, stalking through the hallways, looking out for any of your children in case they come across you with any injuries. maybe that's why eventually your resolve weakened.

and maybe the absence of familial love led you to find comfort in another man's arm.

''til death do us part,' is such a tragic saying in your case, because you know it in your fragile heart that bruce's love for you was never alive in the first place. and yet you allow him to play you like a fiddle, allow him to slowly allow you to slip away from his nonexistent grasp.

and now, you're a stand-in parent for clark's son, jon, after the tragic loss of his wife. now, your world seems a lot less bleaker, as you play the fantasy of a loving house spouse, fully abandoning the life you left behind, a life you've never been gifted with until now. you want to feel guilty, you want to feel absolutely terrible but the heartache of neglect has become too much and all you do was allow clark to warm you up each night, kissing away your tears and spooning your deep-seated anxieties away.

you don't let the past eat you up, not when the present is too perfect, too freeing, too delusionally beautiful.

your son, jon provides you every joy a parent could have. parent's day gifts, heartfelt letters at every nook and cranny of your shared bedroom with clark— even reading him bedtime stories, allowing him to sleep in your lap after he slowly nods off, with clark knocking softly on polished wooden doors, greeting you with a loving kiss on the lips and a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand—

it's everything a parent wants, needs even.

and you're everything clark, and especially jon wants, needs in their life.

so it's such a stupid mistake, really. a slip of the tongue, a too-enthusiastic smile, incredibly bright, shining eyes. it's not jon's fault, you still love him either way. but it's an error still— one a complicated matter at hand, so dreadful for you, that jon accidentally, all-too-suddenly, mentions you as his parent to damian.

a loving, wonderful parent, he says, with a picture of you in his wallet shoved right in front of his friend's face.

[sameboot]

Simon petrikov coping FAIL compilation

[theribbajack]

"Now, the vow will be honoured, and my Lord brother's soul will return."

Radahn stans keep winning, but I personally am in Miyazaki's walls rn

[smollkittykat]

I kind of don't like how a lot of people forget that despite all the angst and the drama around Dean and Cas they are fundamentaly best friends.

How many times did Dean say it throught the entire show? Bobby in season 6 saying "Well, you just lost the best friend you ever had."

For Bobby to say that, knowing Dean better than even Sam in some regards, how many times had Dean been sitting with Castiel on the couch in his living room?

Cas doesn't sleep, and rarely does Dean, with the Apocalypse looming right behind him.

So all they had left, in those quiet nights were each other. And they were okay with it, because they liked each other's company.

[nipuni]

Casanova sketches!

[snarkspawn]

I really enjoy playing through tnp again like hi it's been a while

[aunmenosheteroenespanol]

2.12 Chimney Begins - 2.09 Hen Begins - 2.16 Bobby Begins Again - 7.04 Buck, Bothered and Bewildered

Tommy's family arc

[fleapit]

can we pleasee please please stop fucking fearmongering and blaming trans men for the predstrogen situation. please god. posts about "trans men teaming up with terfs to get trans women banned!" with zero sources all over my dash. blaming "transandrophobia truthers" for all the transmisogyny. have you all lost your fucking minds?? what the fuck happened to t4t??? what the fuck happened to trans solidarity??? why is "transfem separatism" even a subject worth entertaining????

anyone who says other trans people are the enemy is a fucking fed. jesus christ

[mugentakeda]

[acid-ixx]

mild spoilers for chapter six for my series again &. again, but i really feel the need to ramble about this, and i'd love to hear anybody's opinion on this hehe.

as i write outline chapter six (and write for chapter five), i'd like to say i couldn't wait to write the reader's face reveal in bruce's perspective. and it's not just angst, for me, this plays a very pivotal turn for the series— because bruce will spiral to insanity.

to never once see a single portrait of your second youngest child, whose presence has long been erased from the manor, not a single image, nor trace of you is sickening to the heart, even if he scours through the internet day and night for a single memoir of you, nothing— but to find your portrait in alfred's living quarters and seeing you for the first time in forever? graduating a milestone no less?

god, he's in for a ride just analyzing every aspect of your physical appearance.

the color of your eyes, the shape of your nose, the quip of your mouth, the fat in your cheeks; even the length of your lashes! god, does he brand it into the deepest parts of his mind to never forget you anymore. his pearl, his treasure.

the longer he stares, the more he notices and gazes even more, obsessive as he stands lonesome in the room with every bone in his body locking up, his eyes unable to look away from the portrait that showcases his baby child.

and there, there it is that he concludes a detail so small it's unrecognizable for someone who's seen it for his entire life; yet it's all the same triggered deranged emotions deep within him.

— you don't just share him and your mother's traits, no, your smile is also reminiscent of his mother's.

martha wayne, who'd died in his arms, laying in a pool of her blood with a bullet grazed deep inside her body. his loving mother, who caressed his face whenever he'd cry from his nightmares, who'd shown him motherly love that until now he still craves.

she died with her pearl necklace that once decorated her porcelain neck spilling to the ground and stained with crimson.

you wore pearl earrings on your graduation.

the thought alone is enough for him to just snap.

this? this is the child that he's been neglecting far too long? who shares the same, loving expression of his mother's? his child? not even a single memory could be conjured with you but fantasies now do. if your happiest moments were within the picture frame that he holds with shivering fingers at present; could your smile be any wider if you'd be with him?

how come he never once noticed? why is bruce always destined to fail left and right? why, just why is he brimming with jealousy for all the people who must've seen your smile before him, and contempt for himself that he was never there to pick you up from the police station beforehand?

bruce isn't a heckler for favoritism, but a darker part of him is motivated to take you away from wherever you are, and to never let anybody else witness his beautiful, little treasure.

he's gotham's knight, first and foremost. but he's a father, too, with goals to protect his children just like a father should.

and the things he'd do for you, his child, now? anything.

if it means he has to see that smile, then he'll turn the world upside-down.

he has to protect your smile.

[bagginshieldfamily]

Something I need the fix it AU writers who use Frodo as Bagginsgields child to focus more on:

Gimli meeting a hobbit that looks strangely like Thorin Oakenshield but has the last name Baggins before connecting the dots:

[problemnyatic]

Yeah yeah linux having problems is a big joke but honestly have you considered that linux wouldn't run like shit if it didn't have to reverse engineer byzantine proprietary drivers and hardware architecture and deliberately hostile BIOS firmware and one thousand other things that exist solely to force everything that isn't a corporate OS to suffer miserably on every computer ever

[weirdglassthing]

LOA Shiptober Day 4: How They Met

October content month was ambitious..

This one took me. Shockingly long. Whoops! I’ll probably end up jumping around the prompt list and it might extend into November 😋

I’ll try to do day 31 on the actual date of Halloween though 🫡

[darlinglute]

i think it's extremely fun to pair rook and solas together in any regard, no matter if he previously was being romanced because as clear narrative foils, having an enemies to lovers (and in tandem, bitch4bitch, hater x hater) dynamic feeds into that delicious 'whenever I see you I see myself and I hate that' and 'you are everything I hate about myself' soup.

I once saw a post with a collection of quotes that had this certain vibe, in the 'you and I are the same' (negative) way. if i had a quote to represent them it would be:

so shipping them feels very complex and interesting to think about, because, like in that one dialogue

(first of all, like c'mon) furthermore it's the cycle. rook is to solas what solas was to elgar'nan, there are several times in the game, especially the end, where they can see each other in each other. even if you dont see it in a shipping lenses (which you dont have to!) this is a juicy story.

moreover, at the end of the game if rook outwits solas by giving him the fake ritual dagger, solas not only recognizes that he was out played by 'wits alone' he also says that he's met his match. this mimics the several stories of fen'harel who uses his wits, wisdom etc to get out of a situation

(example: the story of fen'harel, andruil and anaris, solas goading them both into fighting each other so he could get out paralleling solas making rook fight the gods and in addition a thousand other enemies in order to get himself enough time to get out of the fade prison without rook getting ahead of it)

the betrayal too, i don't have much to say that hasn't been said already about the prison switcheroo, (evokes solas's betrayal of felassan yada yada) other then it's really tasty.