#idek what I was writing about

[demonic0angel]

Jack and Maddie have Opinions about super heroes who work for (or are) the government.

Jack and Maddie: Those scum! How dare they obey the government! Down with fascism!! ACAB!!

Jazz: They do it for tax purposes.

Jack and Maddie: …. What

Danny: Yeah. Like Istg I heard somewhere that some heroes do it for tax reasons.

Jack and Maddie:

Jack and Maddie: Oh. Then carry on!

[necrotic-nephilim]

i personally have very complicated feelings on the Gotham Knights video game and the routes it takes with characterization. i think it has a charm to it and it goes in an interesting direction with everyone (especially within the confides of the plot of the game) but it does have certain moments that veer painfully fanon for me. (such as: the dialogue where Tim drinks too much coffee) it's an interesting story for what it is but i don't view it comics-based for characterization and therefore don't care to interact with it much for like. fanfic purposes.

that *said* though. i do have to give the game some kind of credit for giving one of the top five JayTim moments that lives rent free in my mind. every since i played the game, the cutscene lives in my mind daily. it's the specific cutscene where Jason and Tim are arguing about whether or not Jason's non-lethal bullets are too dangerous for the field, and the argument leads to TIm *standing in front of the target* Jason is shooting and telling Jason to shoot him. it lives rent free for me. i never stop thinking about this.

the absolute certainty Tim has that he is in no danger standing in front of Jason, who has a loaded gun pointed at his face. the way Jason *hesitates* for just a moment before lowering the gun. he thinks about it for just a second. Gotham Knights JayTim seem to get along very well and can rely on each other, but Jason still clearly holds a bitterness about his death and Tim that flickers through in some lines of dialogue under the guise of jokes. especially since this game deals *heavily* with concepts of Pit Madness causing an altered state of consciousness, i think it's believable that occasionally, Jason fights the urge to fight and hurt Tim for the feeling of being replaced.

i like their tension so much in this canon. they get along but you can *tell* Tim is afraid of addressing Jason's trauma or even addressing Jason head-on, and Jason leans into spooking Tim about it. which isn't very comics feeling in their dynamic, but it is an interesting way to place their dynamic if you're playing with a more timid Tim who's newer to the role of Robin. (which he seems to be in-game) he really doesn't want to offend Jason, or worse, piss him off. but he'll still face Jason head on for things like this, while completely aware of what Jason could be capable of.

and Jason seems very protective of Tim and respecting Tim as a Robin in typical Jason fashion. if Tim pushes, Jason *will* relent. he knows this is a kid who's proved himself and should be treated with equal respect, sometimes even more than Dick and Babs do in-game.

so for all that to culminate in Tim stepping in front of Jason's loaded gun that he *knows* is on the edge of being too dangerous, just to force Jason to listen? it's the most unhinged way Tim could've gotten his point across in this scene. he was literally daring Jason to hurt him and playing with a very dangerous fire. but he did it anyway bc he believed he could make Jason heel just at the thought of hurting Tim. and he was *right*. they're gay and i'm feral ty.

[siriusly-the-best-bi]

wow so I have like 3 analysis in progress that touch on this topic but I really need to just talk about it rn with its own spotlight.

Aziraphale has this entire life that he's built for himself on earth, after armageddon he's thriving. When we catch up with him in Season 2 his first scene is literally him going to check in with one of his tenants, and throughout the season we see that he has a decent relationship with nearly Everyone on the block. He has an entire life for himself all hashed out and pretty.

Crowley... does not. His cold open in Season 2 is back in St. James park, checking in with Shax, finding out the gossip on Hell. He doesn't have his apartment, he only has his Bentley and the few plants he could fit in it. He doesn't have any other human friendships. His entire life and everything he loves to do is built entirely around Aziraphale.

This is something that I just find so fucking thrilling because when it comes to their characters and where exactly they are in their arcs right now, it's essentially like looking into a mirror.

Aziraphale knows exactly who he is when he's on his own. He nurtures his own relationships with humans he sees often, he's a nice landlord, he loves books and classical music, and hot cocoa. But, Aziraphale still holds onto the ideals of heaven. He still cares about doing good and being forgiving. He still cowers and jumps at the opportunity to help heaven, not because he wants to but because he's supposed to because he's still an angel.

Crowley has nothing. He has his car, which he drives to a secluded location to park every night, only to drive it right back in the morning. He's only even vaguely recognizable because people associate him with Aziraphale and this is fine for him, he could care less. He doesn't really need to know who he is or process his traumas, why would he when he can put all his attention and focus and love and care directly into Aziraphale? His friend, who has always been his friend, the one person who has always stood by him. Who cares about heaven and hell, he has Aziraphale.

When we finally see them on their own and without the influences of their head offices, we see the opposite of what we'd expect, and nearly the opposite of the outcome we see in episode 6. Crowley is the one constantly checking in with Hell (wether he likes it or not), and Aziraphale is the one who's living care free without even thinking about heaven. When he does something good that he wants to report, he just calls Crowley.

this whole dance of Crowley not knowing who he is without Aziraphale and Aziraphale knowing who he is fundamentally but not knowing how to break free from the confines of Heaven that stop him from truly embracing Crowley in the end, it's just so delicious.

[honig-dachs]

there it is

[uhohdad]

ok so WHYYY aren't you a professional writer yet??? im reading your hunger games au w reader x könig and holy fuckint shit???? If you wrote a book I would read it. 1000%. Like. Wow. Wow. WOW.

y’all are so nice wtf 🥹🥹 this message made my day and it’s not even 9am yet!!! thank you so much for taking the time to send this it means the world to me - you got me smiling GOOFY fr!!! 💕💗🩷💞💗

⌜ KONIG X READER HUNGER GAMES AU ⌟

[shannonsketches]

Toei does not like Vegeta part #12849, this is their Vegebul moment.

vs Toriyama's Vegebul moment:

I will continue complaining under the cut (with additional samples)

toei's vegebul moment:

Toriyama's Vegebul moment:

toei's:

toriyama's:

ykwim??

I'm don't even want to talk about how bad they fucked up the Goku Black arc from what I can tell so far so just have this instead

LIKE THEY EVEN CHANGED WHERE VEGETA WAS SITTING??

WHY?

FOR WHO??

ANYWAY it's fine if you like the anime I'm just gently loudly suggesting reading the manga if you're a fan of Vegeta and Bulma separately and/or together

[non-un-topo]

Me: It's too cheesy and dramatic I'm absolutely not going to put a line like "I'd catch you" into this fic where Yusuf and Nicolo aren't even close to being in love yet.

Also me: Okay but... imagine.

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

it's amazing how much you can learn about a show merely through social media osmosis, without ever watching it

[the---hermit]

I have not kept it a secret that this semester commuting has been really rough on me. By the time I get home in the middle of the afternoon even if I only had to sit in a hour and a half lecture I feel like an overcooked noodle. And the mornings aren't any easier, my anxiety has been spiking a lot lately, and that messes me up completly, and it's particularly hard on my stomach. Let's just say it's a very demanding period of my life both physically and emotionally and I have been doing my best to get through it with ups and downs, but most importantly by trying to properly take care of myself. I decided to compile a list of small things that have been helping me, both for future reference as well as for people who might be dealing with similar issues.

Prep everything I can the night before. I don't leave the house until more or less mid morning since my class is on lunch time more or less (and this will come up again), so I do have time to do stuff in the morning, but if I have already put everything I need in my backpack, picked an outfit for the day and checked that I have my bus ticket the night before I can have a much calmer morning. Having a calm morning is fundamental for me on any day, so especially when I have a stressful and energy demanding day ahead I want to make sure I don't have to rush, and here is my second point.

Try to have a morning as calm as possible before I have to leave. I am a morning person so I wake up quite early which means I have plenty of time to take it easy. And this means drink my tea as I read my book, prep the last few things I need, like my waterbottle, eat (on which I'll have a later point). Overall my morning before leaving needs to be slow and mostly made of things for myself so again my precious reading time, listening tocmusic as I get ready to get in a better mood and so on.

Taking my meds regularly. It's the logical thing to do, if I am in a period in which my anxiety is worse than usual the number one goal is to be consistent with meds, they are there to help me even if sometimes I forget that.

Finding ways to enjoy food when anxiety fucks up my stomach. What happens is that as soon as I have an anxiety spike for some reason I get very nauseous, which is terribly by itself and it gets worse when it makes me struggle to enjoy my food. But I found a couple of ways to work around that in the past few weeks. Eating when I am away from home is much worse so what I do is embrace the little hobbit in me and have more meals when I am at home, and just bring some snacks on the road if I need them. That means I have two breakfasts before I have to leave the house, the last being a bit more filling. And then when I get home no matter how tired I am or what time it is I cook something for myself, something simple, but I take the time to make something good that fills me up and makes me happy. Because having a full stomach does improve your mood belove me. When I am on the road I bring some lighter snacks that can help me if I feel like I need to have something but that will also work well if I have a spike in anxiety and correlated nausea. I usually eat some homemade bread while I walk from the bus stop to my uni, and then snack on some nuts while I wait for the lecture. And I always have an emergency sweet treat in my backpack because that is something that I actually do on a regular basis. This thing has been working very well, I have had less problems with my stomach acting up, and I am definitely getting all the nutrients I need during the day, just at times that are a bit different from my normal routine.

Bring tea with me. It's something I never did before but it's becoming the one thing I won't give up. I either make a green tea or an herbal tea that I drink before the lecture, and it's been so good for me both physically and mentally. It's been super cold so the warm treat is really needed, but most importantly it's been very comforting and calming, so shutout to my dad for suggesting that.

Having little things to look out for during the commute. This mostly consists of me listing to podcasts, and re:dracula has been of great company in my commutes last year so it's nice it's become a bit of a tradition. It's just good for me not to associate commuting with negative things, so now I just percieve it as poscast time which makes it much much better. This also includes texing friends when I feel like I can look at the screen of my phone without getting car sick (again when anxiety messes me up I can get random car sickness), that's good to keep my mind off things and make the commute feel lighter.

Total relax when I get home. Which sometimes means lying in bed with a cup of tea and nothing more. If I have enough brain power I might read a comic, or play stupid midless games on my tablet for a bit. Honestly just things that need as little energy and brainpower as possible because by that time I do not have much energy or brainpower left, and it's okay. I normally use up a lot of energy when going out and it this period of time all tasks require I use even more energy. I can't do much about it other than accept it and do my best to tke care of myself.

[jtl07]

Genre: Historical romance

Location: Ocean

Object: a 2024 Volkswagen Golf GTI

i WILL break shenanigans

GDI NO YOU WON'T !!!!! we're all very mature and not at all stubborn here lol <3 i know nothing of historical fiction so forgive me for the meandering opening, but also thank you for helping me stretch and try new things and i will stop rambling now okbye

Beautiful, is what Beatrice thinks as she watches the sun set over the water, the ocean welcoming the gold into its arms. It's not the first time she's thought it, here; but it was the first time she'd thought it- here, at this shore, watching a sunset like this one, listening to the world quiet and soften into evening.

But unlike that time, the person who'd taught her to see it, who'd challenged so much of what she'd been taught, what she thought she knew - about life, about living, about love - isn't here.

Beatrice isn't surprised - she's not even disappointed. Resigned, yes. To a fate that she's known since she was young: a duty to her family, to her title, to a legacy larger than she. She knows all the reasons why she must leave. And yet. She finds herself lingering. Lingering until the sun's last gasp of light disappears from the horizon. Until gold gives way to darkness.

Beatrice gets to her feet, brushes the sand from her suit, the same one she'd worn when Ava had laughed and pulled her into the waves of this very same beach, a night that seems like years ago instead of days; Ava had laughed that laugh that always leaves Beatrice entranced, had danced and pulled her in close, had cupped her face and looked at Beatrice's lips when she'd called her handsome.

Beatrice sighs, coaxes the memory of that night into the back of her mind as gently as she can. Locks it away. It won't do to remember, now. Not when the morning after that night she'd been greeted by the news of her father's death and her family's summons back home.

She straightens. Nods to herself. She's wasted too much time. This - the silence, the dark, the loneliness creeping back into her heart - is her sign. She's waited (hoped, dreamed) long enough.

Beatrice turns from the ocean. In the morning, she'll wake before dawn and board the ship that will take her home, and she'll leave this Beatrice behind. The Beatrice that knew Ava; the Beatrice that loved Ava, here.

A sound too sharp to be the crashing of waves grabs Beatrice's attention. She's reminded suddenly that is alone and unarmed.

The sound grows. She sets her stance.

A flash of eerie blue light appears, splitting the space in front of her, a hole ripped through the air. Through it appears a contraption Beatrice has never seen before, a carriage of metal, roaring like some mechanical wild animal, and Beatrice has to jump back to avoid getting run over as it leaps through through the air and lands, sliding wildly on the sand.

Just as abruptly as it appeared, the light disappears. Leaving Beatrice and the machine, stuttering, grumbling, shaking. Finally, it too stills.

Then -

"Beatrice!"

Her arms are full before she even registers fully who it is. Not that Beatrice had to guess - there's only one person in the world who would throw themselves into Beatrice's arms this way, who burrows into her neck this way, who trusts her this way.

"Ava," she breathes (a miracle, a sign). Holds her closer.

"Oh my god, Bea, you're alive, Bea," Ava chokes out as she pulls back just enough to hold Beatrice's face in her hands. "You're still alive, thank god."

"Of course I'm alive," Beatrice says slowly. Feels her confusion grow as she takes in Ava fully: the terror and relief carved deep onto her face; the cut of her hair, shorter than it was just a day ago; clothes Beatrice has never seen on her before, of a style she's never seen ever. "Ava, what's happened? What is all this -" she runs her palms along the stiff fabric of her jacket; gestures to the machine over Ava's shoulder "- what is that?"

"It's a time travel machine," Ava answers without ever looking away from Beatrice. "I had to help Dr. Salvius make it. We tried to get a DeLorean but apparently something about the 2024 Volkswagen Golf GTI - not the 2023, that one almost blew us up - makes it work just as well -"

"Ava, I don't think I understood half the words that just came out of your mouth."

"Right." Ava shakes herself. Starts again. "The thing that matters is that Dr. Salvius was able to make it work, see? I'm here, now." Ava smiles, victorious. But just as quickly, her expression turns serious and her hands move from Beatrice's face to her shoulders. "Bea. You can't get on that ship."

Beatrice sighs. She doesn't want to spend their last night together rehashing the same argument they've had for nearly a week now. "Ava, please -"

"No, I mean it, Bea."

"- let's not do this now -"

"- there's going to be a terrible storm -"

"- storms happen all the time at sea -"

"- this one will be different, Bea!" The tremor in Ava's voice makes Beatrice pause; it's the horror in Ava's eyes that makes Beatrice uncertain. "The whole ship will go down," Ava says, eyes distant, voice quiet and uninflected. "No one will survive."

Beatrice swallows. Tries for logic. "You can't possibly know that -"

"I do! I saw it!" Ava's hands tighten to a painful degree but Beatrice lets her holds on, knows Ava needs it by the way her whole body shakes. "I saw you dead. We had a funeral and it was beautiful and you were dead. Beatrice -" Ava slumps forward and Beatrice shifts instantly to catch her, leads them both gently to kneel on the sand. Feels Ava's hands clutch at her as she sobs into Beatrice's chest. "Please, Beatrice. Don't make me go through that. Not again."

Beatrice hums at her softly, holds her close. She's unable to truly comprehend all of what Ava's said in the last few minutes, but Beatrice understands this: the desperation that's taken hold of Ava, the lies she's promised to never tell.

She fits the words together, plays them back as facts. Thinks of the ship, thinks of the life she's never really wanted.

So when Ava's sniffles start to settle, Beatrice pitches her voice low and asks, "What would you have me do?"

Beatrice feels Ava lift her head, finds herself looking into eyes shining from tears grieving a woman still alive; from the wonder of being believed. Ava glances over their shoulders to the machine - the time travel machine - behind them. She shifts onto her knees, takes Beatrice's hand between her own. Takes in a deep breath and says: "Come with me.

"We could go anywhere, any place, at any time - any year. We could go to the Alps and actually talk to those novelists you're always saying you'd like a word with. We could go to the future and dance and drink - anything you'd like. Anywhere.

"Would you?" Ava asks, faltering slightly.

Beatrice looks over at the machine, almost glowing in the darkness that's settled around them. Hears the waves crashing steady onto the shore. Hears the breath Ava takes in and holds; recognizes the sound of hope.

Beatrice sifts through the information Ava has laid at her feet. "You said the ship was destroyed in the storm?"

Ava nods. "Yes. There were no survivors." A helpless look passes over her face, travels down to her shoulders as a shrug. "Yours was one of the few bodies they were able to recover."

"And all of those who were never found were assumed dead." A multitude of scenarios play out simultaneously in Beatrice's mind, a web of ifs and thens, of futures suddenly possible. "So even if they didn't find my body -" feels Ava's hands tighten around hers and knows Ava's following the thread.

Beatrice takes in a breath and holds it just as Ava did, the way Ava has taught her. She looks into Ava's eyes, shining with the same hope she knows is in her own. "Ask me again."

A smile is already growing on Ava's face. "Beatrice," she says, breathless at first, then strengthening with every word. "If I left, would you come with me?"

The words are barely out of Ava's mouth before Beatrice has hers there in answer. "Yes," Beatrice says into the kiss, smiling into Ava's lips, "Yes, I would." Kisses her again and holds her close. "I will."

[arahabakix]

fushiguro toji in jjk chapter 233;

[firestorm09890]

World Survey Report cont. Radiant Garden contains a princess and a prince. The princess has no relation to the royal family, but she is one of very few beings that shine with pure light. All the world centers on her, and her presence maintains the good and righteous order of the world. The other does not have this quality. He has no relation to the royal family either, but despite his obvious dark inclinations, the Lord of the land saw fit to make him the heir to the world. Neither are yet old enough to comprehend the enormity of their roles. When they are both of age, let us hope that the light of the princess is enough to counteract the darkness of the prince.

Duality and expectations

[lunarharp]

into the deep end - 30k T orufrey fic, focusing on memory trauma, disability, and romance.

the sweet oblivion of the victim, the poisoned freedom of the witch.

for one moment - it had felt like two parts returned - the needed reunion of two disparate halves. no more secrets, no more pain.

the moment you get to give back what you never wanted to take. that moment, under the night-blooming flowers, when they had both let out the same single broken sigh of relief.

but they were never whole to begin with, were they?

qifrey swore he wouldn't say 'sorry' to this man any more if he could help it - sorry is cheap now. he didn't want to be in a position ever again where you only have 'sorry' left. so he just looks down into the threads of his blanket, strains his eye until it hurts, feeling his insides - his throat, heart and head - burn with pain. he expects more, but olly says nothing.

olly says nothing.

[chahnniesroom]

hello everybody i am once again indecisive!

my thoughts:

for me it's satisfying to have one long fic but it takes a much longer time (prob would be at least march potentially apr or may to post). i would have the ability to draw out the angst (which i really want to do) but that would require me to plan things more carefully to ensure there is good flow. also long fics intimidate me and sometimes i don't proofread them as much before i post bc it takes too much time

having a shorter main fic would be not as bad for timing (definitely can be done by march) and i can keep adding new extras as i get inspo. might be hard for me to decide what to keep and what to have as extras and i might end up prioritising new fics over the extras i originally planned on writing

many short fics in one au i can prob post one in a few days, but as a whole they will have less cohesion/a fragmented overall plot, and the shorter length means it's a lot harder to make it angsty

so basically a longer fic = more angst but will take forever for me to finish bc i am slow at writing 😔

[masterlist]

[javierduffy]

ohh javieran … javieran post kieran’s death .., javier is a poor lonesome cowboy in america a long way from home with no more sweetheart to sit and talk with him ooohhh can anyone hear me ….

[moechies]

(NOT AN ASK) ms moechie I think your getting a lil bit of criticism on that nanami post..I just seen one regarding to you🫧🥥

omfg yes .. idk if this ask is supposed to be passive aggressive towards mi but

i literally can’t understand why people r having such a big issue about it 😭 last time i checked adults have stuffed animals .. and like stuffed animals…. not only children…. have stuffed animals ..? it’s so ????

i simply said he likes how “innocent” you look, and go on to explain how reader looks CUTE not like a child.

if you actually read my drabble and think about a child… u may be really fucking weird and should block me so i never have to see or hear u again ..!