#i suck at socializing

[oswaldbaskerville27]

Every time I send someone an ask I always hope I don't come off sounding hateful, rude, ect. My intentions are good but my delivery is bad...

I'm nice I swear

[secondbeatsongs]

for anyone too young to know this: watching The Truman Show is a vastly different experience now, compared to how it was before youtube and social media influencers became normal

before it was like, "what a horrifying thing to do to a human being! to take away their autonomy and privacy, all for the sake of profits! to create fake scenarios for them to react to, just to retain viewership! to ruin their happiness just so some corporate entity could harvest money from their very humanity! how could anyone do something so evil?"

and now it's like, "ah, yeah. this is still deeply fucked up, but it's pretty much what every influencer has been doing to their kids for a decade now. probably bad that we've normalized this experience"

[unexistz]

Ever reply instantly to a message and regret it just as fast because apparently they're too cool or something

[artsekey]

Thinking about the time I lost a game of Overwatch and I was so mad about it that I genuinely considered getting into shit with the other team in chat and then realized that it was a colossal waste of my living breathing Human Time and uninstalled Overwatch instead because it was only making me angry.

And then thought about the OTHER time when I was on TikTok and realized I was Not Enjoying Myself and was, in fact, seeing so many sad videos and fake influencer ads that I felt Truly Despondent and then just…Deleted it.

Imo I want my social media /general media experience to be a pleasant break from real world and I get to decide what I get to cull to make that a reality for myself. I highly reccomended it! Life has improved considerably!

[tshortik]

Turn on "prevent third-party sharing" in your settings!

Go into your settings, click on your blog name, scroll down and enable "prevent third-party sharing". I'm gonna be honest, I question how much/if this even prevents any AI bullshit, but do it just in case anyway.

Edit: On Mobile it's the Settings Gear, Visibility, Prevent third-party sharing.

You have to turn that on for all your blogs separately.

[kevinsdsy]

I am OBSESSED with ur account!!! may i please request some more neil/jean to distract me while i should be packing my flat up 💖💖

IM SORRY THIS IS TOO LATE AND HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY INBOX BC I DIDNT GET AROUND IT AND I FEEL BAD FOR LETTING IT SIT HERE WHILE IM TRYING TO SLOWLY CATCH UP ON MY INBOXES SO PLEASE TAKE THIS AS A PEACE OFFERING

take this bonus between kevin & jean as a peace offering for the late reply :((( i hope packing up your flat went well tho!!!

[strawberrycartt]

He's once again asking for financial support

Based on this post:

[soath]

“essek wants the gods dead” “oooh, this is going to change essek’s mind about the gods” i’m sorry but that boy is a cultural luxonite. he has no strong opinions on the gods other than ‘well, they sure empirically exist’. he might have some issues with his home faith (understatement) but he was still raised in an ancient battlefield literally scarred by the horrors of the calamity where the prime deities are a bunch of affectionately tolerated minority cults. his entire society thinks they transcended the need for Gods with Shapes and my man is not immune to the luxon-centric chauvinism of his upbringing.

sure, given another few years under ludinus’ thumb he could have probably been swayed to team deicide, but that’s not where’s he’s at. where he’s at is hanging out in rexxentrum, getting made fun of by caleb for referring to the dawnfather as ‘an influential, if over anthropomorphized solar deity’. you can take the elf out of rosohna but you can’t take rosohna out of the elf. the gods? well, fjord and caduceus are very fond of theirs (tone of someone describing their friends’ baffling but periodically lifesaving hobby). he technically works for one now through the cobalt soul and he can respect her ethos. after that he runs out of things to say about them.

now the luxon, on the other hand… he’s watching this entire directors cut triple-feature like a hawk. trying to divine the secrets of the universe from a reality show and it might just work.

[toxiccaves]

I think what a lot of tumblr-only people are missing about twitter failing, is that it was always a better website when it came to small businesses, instant world event news, fact checking, having users from all over the world, being a source for disaster relief information or warnings, and anything else to keep people up to date with going ons.

Sure, tumblr has many users from all over, but the website is still largely english biased and not nearly as widespread as twitter. I know a lot of news and knowledge comes in on here too. I've learned a lot and see a lot of donation posts in regards to world events, but its nothing like twitter unless you know who to follow. Not to mention, half the news I got here, was days later and from twitter to begin with.

Seeing that being taken away in favor of hate speech and enabling abusers (with the recent potential of getting rid of the block feature over there) and pushing blue user comments to the top (aka elon's weird fans), drowning out anyone else on popular posts, sucks! It sucks for the world and small businesses. because there's really no alternative to it right now.

The site's running rampant with spam and scammers and its becoming more and more unusable by the day. And some people think it's silly to be upset over it or "you shouldn't have all your eggs in one basket" well there only is one basket! This is literally people's livelihoods people seem to be making fun of anytime a change happens that breaks the site and people post all their socials.

And everyone from every country is talking about different websites they're considering, and its splitting up our connection to the world. And surely he knew who this was hurting with every decision.

[unnecessarilygrandiose]

*for the puposes of this poll rpf includes real-person fic, fics based on biographies of real persons, and fic about shows/movies/books based real people in history.

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #61 part 1

Danny didn’t like thinking about his old life. He was born to a family of assassins and as soon as he was out he never looked back. He had to fake his death and he changed his name, as far as anyone knew Damian Al Ghul had died on a mission to America. He was determined to keep this secret to the grave. Of course he knew who his dad was, Bruce Wayne was a prominent figure and he knew if we went there his secret would get out and he never wanted to be forced to be an assassin again. Once was enough. 

Danny knew he had a soft heart, his adoptive parents, the Fentons and Jazz had told him so. Jazz knew he didn’t have the greatest childhood or past but she never pried, she understood his business was his and wouldn’t let her own curiosity get the better of her. The only issue their family had was their parents obsession with ghosts. Damian never believed in ghosts, the entire thing sounded like a hoax. He probably never would have believed in them but then life happened. 

Danny believed, but it was kind of hard not too after everything that happened. When he had turned 14, his parents finished their biggest project yet. A portal to the ghost zone, of course it doesn’t work at first and his parents were very disappointed. Danny felt conflicted about the whole thing. On one hand he wanted his parents to succeed and he wanted them to be happy, on the other the portal was the reason he ate alone with his sister at night. He wanted a normal family life, something he was never allowed back at the league. 

He did something so stupid that night.

After his parents along with his sister were asleep, he crept down to the basement and stood in front of the empty hole in the wall. He looked around the outside of it first but nothing seemed to be out of place. Then he stepped into it and before he got too far into it something happened. He knew there were a lot of cords on the floor and thought he had avoided them all, but as he realized he was quickly being acquainted with the floor, he out of instinct held his hand out to catch himself on the wall. Right onto the ON button.

He didn’t remember much but pain after that.

A lot happened in the year after the portal was turned on but Danny thought he was taking things well. His sister found out about everything sooner than he liked but having someone to help him was something he didn’t realize he really needed until then. The ghost attacks were frequent and Danny was having trouble finding the time for school, friends, and fighting ghosts that the assistance helped a lot. 

Danny sat at as desk in Mr. Lancers class, who was going on about the play Hamlet. Danny was only half paying attention, he was preoccupied thinking about the latest conversation he had with Clockwork. Danny was recently crowned prince after his victory over Pariah Dark. He didn’t want the crown, ancients knew what Grandfather would do if he ever found out, but he had no other option but to accept. The conversation left him rather drained and it felt like every word his teacher spoke bled together. 

He eventually made his way to lunch and before he could make it to his destination a blue mist wafted out of his mouth. Sighing he ran out of the room to find a place to transform. Once he was Phantom he wasted no time finding the ghost. Of course it was Boxie. 

Before he had time to even fight though a portal opened up right besides Danny and he was kicked in by the Box Ghost. The world seemed to swirl around him until he landed harshly onto some pavement. The pavement was a roof and he appeared to be in a city. 

Not just any city he soon realized as he looked over to a bank that had the words ‘Gotham Bank’ brightly plastered on the front.

Shit… Danny wanted to avoid something like this, unfortunately the portal was already gone. 

After taking a moment to think about his predicament he decided the best course of action was to call Jazz.

He took a look around the rooftop he was on and when he didn’t see anyone he transformed back. 

Pulling out his cell from his pocket he pulled up his sister's contact on it and hit the call button. 

His sister took a bit longer than usual to answer but the hesitation in her voice caused him to pause, “H-hello?”

“Jazz, it’s Danny, we’ve got a code green,”  he knew setting up code colors with his sister would come in handy. Red meant he was gravely injured, yellow meant the ghost got away and he was in pursuit, blue meant he caught the ghost, and green meant he fell through a portal or something similar. 

There was silence on the other line for a moment and Danny was almost going to say something else but she spoke, “How do you know my name?”

Master Post:

Next:

[1hellofacookie]

Her job

is...

Beach?

and kissing women

kenjoy

[squiddlysq]

Murderbot's interview with Station Security when it first arrived on station went extremely well

[hwaithie]

marginalia #2 ⸝⸝ ˙˳ ⑅ al haitham x reader ⋆ sfw ⋆ established relationship ⋆ reader experiences overstimulation + anxiety ( it's implied that haitham does too )

it starts out small, insignificant. a bubble of fear at the back of your throat birthed from the sharp thukthukthuk of the tabla, the shrill whines of the sitar, the volcanic eruption of people cheering from their lungs and the shove of shoulders as they pass and the heady liquor-thick fragrance in the air that begins to inundate you with a brain-pounding dizziness.

you try to mirror your smile to that of the dancers onstage, but unlike theirs, yours is a sickness beneath the skin.

a festering of woe-rapture that boils your organs brought on by the overwhelming sensations of a celebratory night at the grand bazaar; spine set aflame by the blaring yellow strobes and left to burn by the blinding glints and glare of light reflecting off of ruby bangles and diamond earrings and gold chains.

it's too bright, too noisy, too hot, too much all at once, and, wait, where is al haitham? you turn your head to look for the man who was by your side earlier in the night, but you're only met with a blur— that same brain-pounding dizziness— and you find yourself grasping for air, though it's hard when your palms are too sweaty and you're beginning to lose your grip on your senses and your intestines furl into fists that punch at your stomach and your windpipes are smashed and your voice shatters and it's only silently that you can scream i want to leave, i want to go home, i want to go home.

you feel like your shoulder blades might split clean down the middle and your heart might explode through your chest at how it beats a million times a second, but then— a pillowy weight lays itself symmetrical across your shoulders.

liquor and incense burning the membrane of your nostrils are soothed by honey and oud. fresh-lit candles and filtered coffee. all the familiar scents of home, and you remain whole.

al haitham.

you blink the hazy spots clear from your vision to try and find his face, but he manoeuvres behind you— swiftly, silently— securing his cape 'round and about your trembling frame, taking your hand to guide you out of the bazaar.

it's easy to notice that his palm is just as sticky as yours; you don't fare well off at large social gatherings, nor too does your lover.

when you've both broken free of the crowd and the sounds, he soon becomes the only thing to seize a hold of your senses. delicate fingers sweeping gossamer over your cheek, and anchor-pressed mouth to your temple, and cape shrouding your body a reassuring hug. the moon swells into your lungs when you look up at him— heart calming, breath slowing, ripples of unshed tears crawling back behind your eyes. he taps his thumb over the marble-flush of your palm; 88 times, you count, and pull your brain back into your skull. one for each piano key.

it's all the familiar, silent comforts of home, of al haitham grounding you to the earth in ways he knows best when he too needs to find his footing.

you open your mouth to thank him, to apologise for being a bother, piecing back the voice that's broken in your throat, but al haitham only presses a finger to your lips. points to his noise-canceling earpiece, drawing your attention to the button indicating that it's turned up all the way.

nodding in understanding, you smile again— this time soft and sweet. he dignifies it with one of his own, warm like he always does when it's only you and him; the type of warmth that makes you think you could just melt into his heart and stay there forever, the type of warmth that you realise hides in its silence a promise of i'm here, i'll always be here. let's go home.

[chialattea]

Happy (late) New Year!!! Have an Isabela!! I’ve become hyperfixated on One Piece so it might flood my tumblr now that I actually have time to draw but Isabela will be my number 1 priority always

[normystical]

ATTENTION ALL ALASTOR SHIPPERS: 

uniromantic 

THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME. PROCEED