#if i tagged improperly do tell

[sceebybeeby]

hi *runs away like a scared foal*

(⚠️body horror, SH/sui ideation past read more⚠️)

the nice house on the lake au ^^ it's one of my favorite horror comics as of late. the basic premise is that this guy, walter, takes 10 people to this lake house in wisconsin, and while they're having a nice vacation the world is ending outside of this bubble. it's like an opposite weirdmageddon situation. good book 👍 alas i am brained so i can't enjoy it without combining it with another thing i like. anyway

(⚠️the note has the SH/sui ideation⚠️) panel redraws

misc doodles ig lol

[myfairkatiecat]

Okay I’m going to say it, some of y’all treat the KOTLC tag like it’s a tumblr community instead of an organization system that gathers together everything people post and tag as KOTLC

[littlenerdybee]

Hello friends, I need your help.

Yesterday, 04/04/24, I became homeless; I don’t have a home anymore.

I only have my car, luckly, so that’s where I’m staying with my cat.

I’m currently in my first year of university but I’m going to drop out soon as I can’t afford to pay the fees. I’m looking for a new job, of course, but as of right now I don’t have enough money to do anything about my situation.

I will not share my exact location for safety reasons but I will tell you that I'm living in my car near a gym so as not to be isolated. Physically I am fine, emotionally not really but it doesn't matter.

I’m asking for your help because I don’t know what else to do. I have some links in my bio, if you can donate anything, even just one euro is going to make the difference.

And if you can't donate, please at least share this post or my links. Thank you so much, I appreciate every single one of you.

(Please forgive me for using the tags improperly but I'm trying to reach as many of you as possible, as well as my mutuals).

[brisquad-unit-4402]

christmas cookies

it's christmas now in my timezone. so happy holidays from unit 4402, and a lovely winter ahead. please stay warm comfy and loved wherever you are. this was inspired by a george strait song of the same name sans vox. he is one of the few country artists i trust. please be kind to him and enjoy my guilty pleasure corny christmas music fave

(btw i've always wanted vox to do a karaoke and sing at least one george strait song i just know he'd eat it up. tbh christmas cookies is the song i associate with vox the most even more than new cydonia. you have to understand how important the imagery of vox singing this song is to me i can't describe it in words nor fanfic)

tags: gender neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, food descriptions

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A comfy night in while the air turns icy outside. Your home runs warm, especially as you pass by the oven, and when you lean over Vox's wing-and-shoulder to watch him mix some icing together.

"Pass me the powdered sugar, Reader?"

"Sure thing."

"Thank you, baby."

Before you can utter any sweet nothings back to him the oven interrupts you as the timer goes off. You slip on one of Vox's mitts (a ruby red with a paw-print pattern and a scorch mark on the side, what were you expecting) and open the oven door.

The sweet smell of freshly baked cookies pours out from the oven, and as you set them on the cooling rack the scent grows only more enticing. Vox insisted on making cookies from scratch this year rather than from a box, and you have to admit, you don't even need to sneak a bite to admit he was right. The scent and golden-brown color is already miles ahead of the batches you made alone in the past.

The heat spreads behind you, trademark Vox and his demonic blood. Your suspicions are confirmed once he peers over your shoulder just as you did, and swipes an oven-hot cookie from the rack.

"What the—Vox!" You lightly slap his hand. "Those are hot!"

"I was born in Hell," he says, mouth full of cookie. He swallows. "Mmm, tasty."

"They aren't even frosted yet!"

"It's a good goddamn cookie, Reader, what do you want me to do, say they taste like charcoal?"

"No, Vox, I want you to be patient and wait for them to cool and decorate them like a normal person before eating them! We're going to have a full bowl of icing and no cookies to ice if you keep taking them like that!"

He pops another cookie into his mouth much to your playful dismay. "What kind of normal person doesn't eat a cookie straight out of the oven?" Then he takes another, places it on a napkin, and sets it on the counter in front of you. "Would having a cookie yourself make you feel better?"

"Normal people that don't have heat resistance like you." You stare down at the cookie. It has a soft crack through the side from cooling improperly, so of course it would be perfect for a taste test. "But... thanks."

Vox brightens. "Eat up. Er, in ten to fifteen minutes when cooled."

You nod, and watch as Vox shovels cookie dough onto a new pan. You snuck a tiny Santa hat onto one of his horns earlier this evening, and even now the pompom at the end sways as he moves the next batch into the oven.

The oven settings chirp, chirp, chirp until the temperature and timer is set.

"Should be fine to eat your cookie once those are out of the oven," he says. Baking your holiday sweets was an equal effort, but his lips are curved upwards and his wings raise in quiet pride. "I can tell you what it tastes like if you're too impatient to wait."

He's right. You're impatient. So you take Vox's hand to lower him just enough for your mouth to meet his.

You return back down from your tiptoes a second later, sugar on your tongue and sweetness all the way through. "Damn, we did great."

He scoffs but his wings let out a happy little flap. "If you wanted me to kiss you, you could've just asked."

"Well, we have—"your eyes flit to the timer—"Ten minutes until the next batch is done." You squeeze his hand. "Gotta spend the time somehow."

The corners of Vox's lips curve a little higher. He sweeps you up only to seat you on the clean side of the counter, just so you can see that eager, dorky little grin at eye-level, wings around you and arms on either side. "'Tis the season for giving, mm?"

"Cheeky bastard." You close your eyes as if you were irritated, but you're the one that leans in first, and the taste of the cookies spreads through your mouth as the minutes go by.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi

[good-griief]

Time ; Regret

here's part two of "time"! i'm sure you all don't want me to end it here, so even tho i think it'd be a little cruelly funny to leave it up in the air like this, i promise there will be a part three— tho that will be the last part. this part is pretty dialogue-heavy, so i hope you enjoy the 'voices' i gave the characters<33

note sorry to have to post this again but tumblr posted it at the complete wrong time from my schedule and it wasn’t the right draft :( ( some kind of phone to computer mix up idk what happened</3 )

warnings ambiguous relationship/feelings between abby and reader, reference to romance, implications of unrequited love (it's not), she/her reader, lasting effects of torture to reader, morally grey reader, mention of joel's death/torture, ambiguous/story-teller dependent interpretation of major past event between characters

tags @frogtits1 @sawaagyapong @augieee21 @sunkissedbibi @eden-nox

part one part three

link to chapter 2 on ao3

After that, Abby decided against hugging you again, knowing she’d just get emotional. She didn’t know how you’d react to that anymore, so she played her safest bet and explained what happened from a distance, offering to help you work as she did. You didn’t react, but she could tell how upset you were just because you were so quiet. 

When she offered to come over that night, you agreed immediately, and when she came to your house, you opened the door with puffy red eyes and swollen lips. She gave you a somber smile. “Come on.” She opened her arms for you, holding you for a moment before she came inside. “They wouldn’t want you to cry,” she said, trying to say something comforting you might, and it coming out improperly. It made you chuckle at her attempt, making her sigh as she stepped away from you. “I’m still not the best at comforting people,” she said quietly, shutting your door behind her as she entered with a small smile. She reached out, dragging her knuckle beneath your eye to rid of any stray tears. You smiled at the gesture, gaining one from her, too. 

“You’re right, though.” You blinked away your feelings, taking her hand and leading her to your room so you could sit on the bed together. There was a brief, awkward silence. “What… Uh, what happened? How did it get to this?” You asked as you released her hand, playing with your own to distract yourself. 

Abby swallowed, pursing her lips. She had a feeling you’d judge her for what she did, but she wasn't going to lie. “Joel… The way we— I killed him. Tortured him in front of his brother, and killed him in front of that girl; the one he killed everyone to save. She came after us. Went through all of our friends to get to me, and… let me go.” You couldn’t tell how she felt about being left alive, but you were glad she was, placing your hand back on hers for added comfort. “Don’t.” She went to pull her hand away, but you grabbed it with both of yours. “You can be upset with me—“

“I’m not.” You shook your head, holding her hand gently. “I never should’ve given you that lead. I’m sorry.”

“I would’ve found out eventually.” She shook her head. “And I still would’ve done it…” She grimaced. “And this all would’ve happened anyway.”

“There’s no point in blaming yourself,” you sighed. “You just have to—“

“Let go? Yeah… I’ve heard that,” she scoffed, giving your hand a squeeze before she let go. “Couldn’t do it before either.”

“I wasn’t going to say that, Abby.” You shook your head at her. “You just have to accept it. It probably won’t ‘get better,’ and you’ll probably never let go, but you’ll be able to move on with your life, and not feel guilty for that. Then eventually, you’ll start to remember happier things about them, and… you’ll accept it.”

“Is that what you did? Just accept it?” Her lip sneered when she asked the question, but her brows were bent upward with a contradictory emotion. 

“I wanted to go back—“

“Why didn’t you?” She asked quickly, eyes rimming red just as quickly and making you avert your gaze. 

“I couldn’t…” You shrugged, forcing that same flippancy you gave Mel and Nora. “I mean… I left like a fucking coward, Ab,” you laughed at yourself. “Going back? I’d feel like a complete fool. I couldn’t face you guys— I couldn’t even face you guys four years later. The only thing I could do was keep going and try not to fucking die, I don’t know.”

“Everyone wanted you back,” she muttered, now understanding the brief encounter you had months ago. 

“I didn’t think you did.” Abby frowned, the words sounding like you were singling her out. “I thought, I don’t know, even if everyone else wanted me to be there, you wouldn’t after I suggested something so stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid,” she said, chuckling lightly at your tone. 

“It was insensitive.” 

She shrugged. “I didn’t care… I didn’t even think of that, I just—“ She shook her head, sighing. “The first thing I thought when you mentioned it was that you were going to leave… I wanted to make it my choice that we wouldn’t see each other again, so I said something stupid— but if I’d just waited, let you talk, then… I would’ve realized you wanted to go together. Everyone just thought you planned on going alone.” She pursed her lips, looking away. “It was my fault everyone responded like that— don’t say it wasn’t,” she said before you could object. “No one would’ve said anything if I didn’t.”

“I didn’t care that much about what everyone else said. I figured they just thought I was going to leave you all, but… I thought you were telling me to leave for bringing it up in the first place.” You lied back on the bed so Abby wouldn’t see your face. “Even still, when I was alone, fucking terrified, the only thing I could think of was whether or not you guys were okay; how, maybe, it was better that I wasn’t there… It seemed like you guys got even closer when I saw you.”

There was a brief pause as Abby looked down at you. Clearly, you both needed to have this conversation, but it was almost impossible to have with how hard it was to sort out either of your feelings. 

“The first thing I wanted to do when I realized you were gone,” she started slowly, “was go and find you; tell you that I don’t care, and if that’s what you wanted we could go. We could go to Los Angeles, or Santa Barbara, or San Francisco, or wherever the fuck you wanted to go, ‘cause I had no fucking idea what I was going to do without you… And I needed you.” The waver in her voice made you shut your eyes, taking in her words with a crease between your brows and a frown tugging at your lips. “I fucking needed you, and I just wanted to be with you, and I was scared, so I snapped at you thinking— I don’t know what I was thinking… Maybe-maybe if you knew we wouldn’t be together, then you wouldn’t go? Fuck, I just wanted you to stay with me,” she was rambling, words quick and spilling out until she caught herself, “and everyone else. Where you were safe. Where we were all safe. Together. I didn't mean to push you away.”

You had no idea what to say, staring up at the ceiling with a frown as your eyes shone beneath the warm light. You were quiet, voice small as if you knew just how wrong you were now. “I just wanted you happy,” you mumbled, hardly confident in what you used to think to yourself to justify your actions. 

“Without you?” She scoffed at you. “Really?”

You shrugged, now thinking of anything that could back you up. “You had Owen.”

There was a moment of pause before Abby laughed, grabbing your pillow and hitting you with it. “Fuck you.”

“What?!” You laughed, pushing the pillow away and covering your face as she threw it at you. “You… loved him, or whatever,” you waved off, unable to hide the disdain in your voice. 

“That’s what. You never liked us together.” You shrugged. “Why?”

You looked over at her, looking her up and down. “I don’t know.” You moved to sit up, huffing as you did and covering it with an exaggerated sigh. “You were my person.” There was a faint upward pull to her lips at that, but it fell quickly when she replayed the sentence in her head. She was your person, and you had stayed hers. After all those years; years of having your picture in her room or pocket, you had stayed close to her heart, but now she was nothing more than an old friend to you. “What?” You asked when you noticed her expression, reaching out and placing a hand on her thigh. 

She swallowed, looking down at your hand. “Did you— Did you ever…” She stumbled over her words as she stared at your hand on her, eventually looking away. “Think about us? Any of us? I mean, you, Mel, and Nora were so close…”

You waited for her to finish, but that seemed to be the end of her sentence, so you stood. You went to your dresser, hand on your lower stomach as you grimaced but made sure to hide it from Abby. You grabbed an old jewelry box, taking it in unsteady hands and carrying it back to the bed where you set it down. Around your neck, there was a leather necklace you untied and pulled from your shirt, taking the key at the end of it and unlocking the box. 

There was an old tape recorder inside. Headphones and car keys too, and a stack of photos among other trinkets.

Abby looked shocked, looking at you before reaching for the box when you nodded. The car keys, from the first time her dad taught you to drive, were tied to an old coin he’d gifted you. They were on top of an old photo of you and him in his greenhouse. 

Her hands went for the other photos, looking through them and seeing how many there were of her or the two of you. You had more of your friends than you did with them; some of these photos she’d never seen before and making her brows pull together as she smiled somberly. 

“When I was in Washington,” you spoke up quietly, looking at the pictures as Abby went through them. “Leah was on patrol when my group was leaving. I didn’t have many pictures of us together, so she gave me most of those… I guess she just had them with her.”

Abby smiled faintly. “She kept pictures of us with her all the time.” Her smile then fell again. “I thought you guys left immediately?” 

You pursed your lips. “I needed a little extra medical attention before we could leave. She found our hiding spot.” You quickly continued before she could question you. “So I told her about how I lost one of my only pictures of us and my other tape recordings, and she just gave them to me.”

“Of us?” She looked up at you and you nodded. Abby went into her pocket, fingers digging for a wrinkled piece of paper. “I don’t have the recording with me; it's in my room, but… ” she muttered, pulling out the photo and smoothing over the water damaged paper before she handed it to you. “It’s a little ruined.”

“You had this?!” You took it, looking down at the picture and feeling your eyes burn before you moved to hug her, arms squeezing around her shoulders. “You don’t know how bad I felt about losing this, Abby.”

Her hands found your hips, awkwardly pulling you into her before her arms went around your waist to comfort you with how emotional you were getting over one picture. “It’s okay,” she tried to soothe, hand running up and down your back. “I’m glad you lost it. I finally got to keep a picture of us,” she laughed awkwardly, leaning back against your bedframe with you still in her arms. She knew you were trying to hide your face from her, so she let you stay as you were. “I actually thought you just left it behind.”

“What?” You laughed, pulling back to frown at her. She smiled at your laugh, hands still resting on your waist in case you hugged her again. 

“I found it by the fire after you left.” She shrugged. “It was with your MP3.”

“So, what? You laughed again. “You thought I was burning pictures?”

“I don’t know, maybe?” She laughed, releasing you as you sat next to her with an eye roll. 

Usually, you’d lean into her, or rest your head on her shoulder when you sat next to her, but now things were so different that you couldn’t just bounce back into old habits.

Every touch, every word, every glance, it was all based on feeling; some feeling that was brought up by the past before that fleeting feeling passed too, and soon, Abby was starting to realize you’d become complete strangers to one another. You hardly understood each other anymore. You weren’t certain how the other would react, or reciprocate, you didn’t even know what could be said at times. Even if you could reminisce for hours, when it came to talking and being present, there was hardly anything you could do. 

It left Abby forgetting your advice and wishing she could go back to do this all over again; forget about finding Joel first and just find you. Or just go with you to California and spend the years like you did. No matter how much she wanted to go find him. No matter how much she would have regretted it. 

At least you wouldn’t be a stranger to her. 

Though, she had no idea how those years were for you. She didn’t know the hell you’d gone through, or the sleepless nights. No matter how much you told her that night, you didn’t tell her how you made yourself sick with guilt to the point that you had to lock all of your keepsakes away. Especially because you thought you’d lost one. She didn’t know how hard you worked to accept everything that happened, how seeing them after four years caused a rift between you and your squad to the point that they were telling you just to stay in Washington, how her showing up completely threw you off guard. 

But maybe that was for the best. 

Because that night, while she was wide awake, thinking of how she could find a way to know you again, you slept soundly. Sleeping through the night for once as you lied with the picture Abby left with you under your pillow.

The next morning, Abby came to the greenhouse. You smiled when you saw her, setting aside your plants to give her your full attention. 

“Hey.” She smiled. “I’m going on my first patrol—“

“Already?” Your worried tone made her chuckle. “Ab, you’re still recovering.“

“I know, but I need to get back out there. I’ll go crazy if I don’t.” You grimaced, crossing your arms. “I was wondering if you’d go with me? It’s just around the island, so no combat.” You narrowed your eyes, wondering why she’d bring that up. “It’ll be quick,” she continued to try and persuade you. 

“I don’t go on patrols anymore,” you told her, replacing your questioning glare with a sympathetic smile. “Sorry.”

“Oh…” She didn't ask why, just nodded before reaching into her pocket. “Okay, well, I brought this with me to give back to you—“

“No, no, no. Keep it.” You took her photo out of your pocket and handed it over. “I’m sure you’ve realized these go together now. You’ve had them for years. Please.”

The way you spoke to her, so cordially it seemed formal, made her feel uncomfortable in a way she couldn’t describe. She gladly kept the items, thankful you hadn’t, but also wishing you at least seemed to want them. 

“Maybe…” You looked around, all of your morning duties done for now. “Maybe I could go with you just this once,” you suggested upon seeing the look on her face. 

But she didn’t want you to placate her. 

“That’s alright.”

“You sure?” You frowned at the sudden change in tune.

“I’m sure there’s a reason you don’t go anymore.” She gave you a smile and you nodded. 

After that day, you didn’t speak much. Lev would come for lessons, and Abby would have to get him sometimes, but slowly, she just faded into another one of your comrades; people you knew but had no relationship with. People who hardly crossed your mind on a day-to-day basis. 

She overheard you with one you were closer to— one of your new friends. 

“So,” she started, “you know that new girl?” She asked as Abby passed by the greenhouse on her way out to patrol. She planned to get a pouch from you, but paused to eavesdrop. “I heard she’s from Salt Lake.”

You’d hummed. “We grew up together… But I don’t really know her anymore,” you’d admitted quietly, solemn. 

Your friend huffed a laugh. “You’re so dramatic. What’s that supposed to mean, huh?”

You chuckled. “I dunno, just… Ya know, when I did know her, she was the best person I ever met. So gentle… kind. She had a way with animals— people, too. I don’t know, she was always so perfect to me when we were younger. I probably had a little crush on her or something.” Your friend cooed at you. “But as we grew up, we were, just, so close. Her dad just took me in like family after mine was… taken.”  She could hear your voice falter. “But when he was killed, things changed… Remember that tip I gave in Washington? ‘Bout Tommy.” Your friend hummed. “His brother, Joel. He was the one to kill him, and Abby… She beat him to death. In front of his brother… In front of his kid.” 

She could hear the way you struggled to get the words out, biting her inner cheek. She wanted to leave, but she also wanted to know what else you’d say, waiting for you to continue. 

“And I don’t even blame her. It makes me sick, but I don’t blame her ‘cause if I ever found out who destroyed my family?” Your voice darkened. “I’d do so much worse.” 

“No need to justify to me,” your friend huffed, humming in agreement. “I know exactly what you mean.”

There was a pause before you spoke again “And sometimes, I wish I’d been there to see it through. To know that he’s actually dead… Or, even just to be there for her— ‘cause the girl that I knew? She never could’ve done that. I never would’ve let her get to that point; feel that way? Hurt that much but… I left her.” Your friend tried to speak over you, but you stopped her. “So, I can’t help but feel at fault for what happened to our friends. I don’t know anyone who would still want to care about me after what I did. So, I just feel like I don’t know her anymore. I can’t understand her at all.”

Abby thought of talking to you that night, telling you she overheard the conversation, but she couldn’t bring herself to face you knowing how guilty you felt. 

What if seeing her made you feel worse? Talking to her made you feel sick? She’d spent all these years feeling guilty, only to find out you felt the same— and now even more so because you knew how she ended up here. Like this. 

She could say the same thing about you. She thought you were perfect when you were younger, she wanted to protect you as you got older, and she felt like she failed you now. Like it was her fault you felt this way. She could say the exact same things you did, which was why she kept her distance and waited for you to come to her. 

She waited. 

And waited. 

[vastseamind]

Since I’m on a low-key roll (and by roll I just mean it’s crash out time pitches) in the same exact vein the amount of fanfiction that I’m seeing also says “no use of (y/n)” just feels like normie‘s invading my fandom. The pandemic clearly made a lot of people go onto the Internet and start traversing in spaces where all of the nerds and weird kids have been for a while. I have made more post in the past about people not tagging their x reader stuff correctly as well.

People will get crazily entitled to improperly tagging their stuff and again it just gives you don’t understand fandom space and that you haven’t been here for a while. I quite literally had one person tell me that they were entitled to incorrectly tagging their fanfiction, even though it was basically an OC because and I quote “the x OC tag doesn’t get enough traction.”

First of all, you’re wrong that tag has A TON of traction, second of all, it would get traction if you bothered to tag your stuff correctly and built the tag back up, instead of ruining my experience with your entitlement. This never felt like something that I experienced when I was a teenager in fandom spaces. Fandom etiquette was a thing.

What further got to me was that this person complained about other people coming at them for incorrectly tagging their things. As if they didn’t do that to themselves. You wouldn’t have the problem of people that enjoy X reader fanfiction telling you that you’re an ass for what you did if you properly tagged your stuff instead of doubling down on it. 

For me, it all goes back into the same exact thing, if you don’t wanna use (y/n) fine. Then find a way to make it X reader, or crazy concept just tag it as OC. In the ASOIAF fandom I’ve seen fic where read is referred to as ‘My Lady’ or ‘Sister/Brother’ or ‘Husband/Wife’. I’ve seen similar stuff in other fandoms and that is reasonable. I get that sometimes it’s a pain in the butt to write (y/n) or ‘your name’ or even just ______. However, do not expect any sympathy if you tag something incorrectly and then get hate for it, fandoms had rules before you got Tumblr in 2019.

Anyways rant over 😘🫶🏼✨✨✨

[jaskierx]

The original person who called for the hunger strike thats being spread around is an actual Palestinian, not a performative activist, who has made their reasons for doing so very clear in other posts. Every post I've seen being spread about the situation includes extremely detailed information on how to go about something like this safely, (including ways to preserve your energy and keep your body nourished enough to avoid health complication and consulting with your doctor) and how hunger strikes have been used as a form of protest across history. Moreover, no one is forcing anyone to do this and the posts circulating make a huge point of stressing safety above all else. If someone is not safe to do a hunger strike thats perfectly reasonable, I know I wouldn't be safe to do that. However, if someone wants to protest in this way which has a large amount of historical precedent and wants to share information about how others can safely join their protest, (which again, does not have a stipulated timespan and can be stopped whenever the protester chooses) there's really not anything wrong with that. Hunger strikes are nothing new and if your issue with it is that the content is improperly tagged, I understand that. But to say that they don't do anything or anyone involved in an extreme and active form of protest to call out the famine that children in Haza are facing is just being "performative" is literally just not true. I agree with a lot of the posts you've shared in the past about how tumblr users' "activism" is often just for morality points and results in a lot of unnecessary harassment, but this just honestly isn't one of those cases and anyone participating in it probably has their own personal reasons for doing so. I'm not even trying to be disrespectful here but your post shows ignorance. This is honestly not something that needs to be talked about by an our flag means death fandom blogger

being palestinian and doing performative activism are not mutually exclusive

it doesn't matter that safety information is being shared, it doesn't matter that people are free to not join in - at the end of the day, someone is being applauded for announcing that they're going to fast for upwards of 2 weeks straight, and is calling people brave and kind for saying they're going to join in, and none of this is tagged. disordered eating is very very common and it's irresponsible to be using a large platform to tell people that they should stop eating because it's morally good and perfectly safe and an example of good activism

hunger strikes are nothing new, but this is not a hunger strike. the original poster has said themselves that it's a solidarity fast and has admitted that it's being done out of a personal feeling of guilt. this is less a hunger strike and more a bit of performative self-flagellation

i contain multitudes! as well as being an our flag means death fandom blogger, i'm also a human being and a former healthcare worker and someone who has seen friends have their lives ruined by eating disorders, so i can and should talk about this :)

[starsdippedintea]

Consider: The BSD Gang on a Playground

More specifically, a swing set. (This works as adults or children.)

•Ranpo would beg [read:force] Poe to push him, which Poe would do willingly. I think Poe would save the swing for Ranpo as well.

•Chuuya would be going in circles. He'd show off his gravity manipulation so much. Dazai probably reaches put to touch him at random times, causing Chuuya to fall. Chuuya would probably beat him up anyway.

•Dazai would either swing without holding onto the chains, or he'd be that one person that tries to go in-between the swings and try not to get hit.

• Nikolai is that one kid who sits on the swing sideways, twists it around and spins, tries climbing the swing frame, you know what I mean. No one wants to swing next to him.

•Fyodor would hate swinging, but Nikolai would try and force him into it using his ability.

•Sigma wouldn't do anything odd. He'd be that one kid who you never talk to but don't mind sitting next to because he's pretty chill. He probably avoids swinging though, because he's terrified Nikolai will swing next to him.

•Akutagawa would use Rashōmon to push himself on the swing. Poor lonely Akutagawa. If he's dating Atsushi, then Atsushi would definitely offer to push him, but Akutagawa would be far too stubborn to accept.

•Atsushi is scared of swings at first, until Dazai tells him that "cats always land on their feet!" and suddenly he's swinging as high as possible and breaks his leg.

•Kenji and Kyouka would be in the sandbox. Do I need to say more?

•Kunikida wouldn't swing. He just wouldn't. Instead, he'd yell at Yosano and Nikolai for using the swings improperly, and he'd be sitting in the shade with a cold drink.

•Yosano would stand on the swing. Maybe Kōyō would help push her, but I think Yosano would just kind of swing her upper body back and forth until she's moving.

•Kōyō likely wouldn't swing, but if she did, she'd sit on it prim and proper, and not swing too fast or slow.

•Lucy wouldn't even bother. She'd create a swing inside of Anne's room and leave everyone behind. Go Lucy.

•Gin is competive. It feel that in my heart and soul, and you can't convince me that she wouldn't be swinging as high as possible, especially with Chuuya around. I can see her just sitting on it as well, probably saving it for her brother.

•Higuchi would be playing tag, but if given the opportunity to swing she wouldn't go particularly fast. She'd probably stay around three feet off the ground.

•Fukazawa and Fukuchi sit on a bench and watch them play. (Mori does not exist for obvious reasons.)

[deusvervewrites]

It gets even worst when you mix in Dadzawa into the stories, which you know full too well by the tag that the author intentional will make OCs out of Inko and All Might and not use them correctly unless they have actual long term validation, good build up and good writing onto why they’re the way they are. It’s to the point that I won’t read Izuku(angst, feel-good or otherwise) with Dadzawa stories, even if they lack abusive/dead Inko and All Might bashing, simply because they woobify and regress Izuku. Not to mention how the rest of 1-A can also be negatively affected by adding Dadzawa without cause.

Dadzawa, even if they is no bashing of the other characters, is frequently overused and improperly used to the point that the intended individuals for a Dadzawa to exist suffer. I understand why the authors want to have a feel-good and father like teacher for 1-A, especially for Izuku since in all scenes, Hisashi is still a deadbeat unless you subscribe to DFO, but don’t believe that All Might can change simply because of his first scene telling Izuku can’t be a hero(All Might had a bad day, it happens to everyone). A randomly inserted Dadzawa with or without the common OCs committing identity theft, has a chance to influence and develop the story and characters in the wrong way.

The impression that canon Aizawa gives off, especially if you know what it’s like to have a great father and good teacher, is that Aizawa would not be a great person to emulate due to his hygiene issues and what he does in the daily basis, which is what we see in canon. There’s a number of Dadzawa fans who haven’t even read the manga nor watched the anime, thus they believe that Dadzawa exists in canon, it’s an entirely fanon creation, especially after Eri joins the story. I know that some of them may have father issues themselves but we already have a greater father figure in All Might. I guess they are more horny and attractive to the slim figure(who doesn’t do Batman right at all) that is Aizawa and implants all of Inkos, All Mights and everyone else’s good traits onto Aizawa.

Aizawa does seem to do a good job with Eri, but for his class? I think it's telling that when Bakugou was kidnapped, several members of 1-A decided that saving him themselves was the best course of action.

But it's infuriating that so many characters have to be turned into flat OCs so they can be assholes solely to make Aizawa look better.

(That being said, the Prince of Heroes series setting up All-Might-Bashind-But-Dadzawa only for Aizawa to drop the ball so hard the kids think he hates them for several months was absolutely hilarious)

[eclipsedmonsoons]

Hey chatters i know i died but i come back with more mcyt fic content

Is it tagged improperly? Probably. Do i care right at this moment? No. You can still tell me things to change though. I wont mind.

Its a combination of day 27 and day 6 and then i divided that by 2 and rounded down.

Day 6 - healed wrong

Day 27 - voiceless

There is blood and one death. Idk how else to warn ya.

[rxgueone]

LSD

Word count: 1,355

Summary: Austin’s reaction to becoming a father for the first time.

Warnings: fluff, just fluff.

Tags: none.

Note: I wrote this while listening to Monster’s Inc bass boosted on loop so sorry if this sucks ass bro. Tumblr has been dog shit and deleting paragraphs lately so. Sorry if some bits are missing.

MASTERLIST — SERIES

—

Austin had been there throughout the whole birth of his little girl, Leia. He was beside his wife, holding her hand and encouraging her to push. His wife, Rose, didn’t make much noises, she would just grunt from frustration now and then.

But her grip around her beloved husband’s hand would tighten every time she tried to push. He would watch, consoling his wife, cheering her on, telling her she was doing a splendid job, he was always there for her. He was there. And that was all that mattered to her.

Finally the sound of frustrated groans and grunts, was joined with cries and wails. Their daughter had been revealed to them. They both watched as their new born daughter was placed onto Rose’s stomach with a towel wrapped around her, and Rose brought their baby close to her. The first thing she did was tell their daughter how much she loved them. ‘Leia… Leia my sweet girl. Don’t cry, your momma and papa love you very much.’ She had cooed to Leia. ‘Hello honey, hello my love, hi.’

Austin by now, had fallen completely silent. He was staring at his daughter, trying to process that he was a father, and that his beautiful wife was now a mother. He kept staring at Leia, listening to Rose trying to calm her down. Deep inside, he felt happy, incredibly happy.

The moment he had gotten the news that Rose was pregnant he was ecstatic. Thinking of names for their cute girl, smiling so bright. He’d come home from work, give her a kiss, and her stomach as well. At times he’d simply kneel down to hug her stomach, wanting to show their baby love. Or he’d lay with Rose, his head on her stomach, talking to not just her, but their baby as well.

Now that their baby, their daughter was here. The same ecstatic feeling he felt when Rose told him was still there, greater than before. ‘Isn’t she beautiful, Austin?’ Rose’s sweet voice snapped him back to reality.

‘Yes,’ he agreed without thinking, ‘the most beautiful thing in the world.’ He had an innocent childlike tone. Rose smiled sweetly up at him, knowing that he didn’t know how to process what had just happened. She looked back at their baby, cupping Leia’s face to gently kiss her head.

Finally, once their baby was clean and taken care of. She was wrapped like a banana, and Rose had been embracing her the whole time. Leia was sleeping soundly, her father hadn’t yet held her. Austin was sitting by his wife’s side, too afraid to hold their daughter. Worried he was going to hurt her. Worried he was gonna hold her improperly.

He had his head against the rail, staring at them both in silence. ‘Baby,’ she looked at him.

‘Yes love?’ He responded, looking back at her brown eyes.

‘You should hold her, y’know.’

He was quiet for a bit before looking at their daughter then at her. ‘I’m… what if…’

‘You won’t hurt her.’ Rose soothed him. ‘You’re too kind for that.’ She promised as she leaned towards him. He had always listened to her, no matter what. So he did. ‘Hold her head, my love,’ she watched him hold his hands out. Gently taking their daughter into his arms, he held her head in his hand, his forearm underneath her. Cradling her in his arms.

He sat in the chair beside the hospital bed, his gray eyes stared deeply at his sleeping daughter. She had a small face, blonde hair, a button nose. She was snugged into the blanket, she looked peaceful, happy. Rose watched her husband with fond eyes, seeing how he was trying his best to be gentle. His thumb touched Leia’s cheek. ‘Hello.’ His voice was barely a whisper, trying his best to not disturb his precious girl. ‘Hi princess.’ He managed to smile.

Rose leaned back in the hospital bed, knowing that her baby was safe. Her eyes fluttered, trying to stay awake so she could watch how he’d treat Leia. He craned his head down, forward, planting a gentle kiss on Leia’s forehead. Watching her again as his thumb grazed her cheek. ‘I love you.’ Even though his girl didn’t know what that meant. He wanted to tell her either way. ‘Momma and papa love you so so much, princess.’ He croaked.

His head turned towards Rose, seeing her sleeping soundly. He looked back at his little girl. ‘Y’know, you’re named after Princess Leia. Your momma said you were feisty, and you’re a princess, so it only suited that you’d be named after her.’ He rasped out, still trying his best not to wake her. Leia wiggled a bit but, fell still once more. ‘Leia,’ he breathed out, feeling his eyes well up with emotions. He knew he was about to cry, which was odd. It had been a long time since he cried. ‘Oh, you beautiful girl.’ He squeaked, biting his lower lip to stop himself from crying.

He was happy. Euphoric. He had a little family with the woman he’d spend the rest of his life with. He had a family, a little family with his forever. A girl so sweet, so gentle and pure, something so innocent and cute. Something that he and his wife had made. He didn’t know why but he felt a sudden protectiveness over their new born. He vowed to protect his wife, and now that their baby was here, he’d vow to protect her too.

‘Momma and papa love you, we love you.’ He assured Leia, leaning down to kiss her forehead once again. ‘We’ll protect you, till the end of time.’

At times Austin would stand over the crib of their daughter, holding his hand to her. Her small delicate fragile hand would hold onto his thumb. He’d say sweet things under his breath while Rose would watch. Once Leia would fall asleep, he’d kneel down beside the crib to watch her.

After a few minutes, he’d walk back to Rose. Kiss her cheek and Rose would ask him to sit on the bed with her, to which he would. With his arm over her waist, her head against his shoulder. Their hands had intertwined. ‘You’ll be a fantastic father Austin.’ She looked up at him sweetly. Brought her hand up to his face to make her look at her. His gray eyes deeply looked into hers longingly, and she returned the gaze. ‘So don’t worry okay? We’ll be happy. We’ll be a happy family.’ Then, she brought her lips to his. Kissing him.

When they both pulled away from each other, Austin spoke to her softly. ‘I’ll protect you Rose, I promise. You and Leia. I’ll protect our family. I swear.’

‘I know.’ Rose didn’t doubt her husband for one moment. ‘I know my love. I know.’

—

Austin stared at his necklace, nibbling his lower lip. He inhaled sharply, clearing his throat. Turning his head towards the living room, he heard squealing in the background. Leia had been playing with Fredrick and Serpent. The trio were playing tag, with Serpent barking whenever he got tagged, slipping on the wooden floor.

Leia running around trying to chase Fredrick. Only to jump into his arms and exclaim, “I caught you Freddie!” With a bright grin on her face.

“Aw! Looks like ya got me, ma’am!” He complained.

Austin smirked, shaking his head. He looked back at his necklace, clipping it back around his neck. “Yeah, she is beautiful, Rose… she’s the most beautiful thing in this universe.” He kissed his wedding ring, getting off the chair to walk over to the trio, joining in on the fun.

Those were all memories now. Memories that Austin clung onto.

[charlieeenby]

whumptober '24

day 6: unhealthy coping mechanisms/healed wrong

when bruce said he'd stay out of his children's lives, he never thought he'd be able to miss something like this

warnings and tags: angst, fear toxin, self harm, minor slade wilson/dick grayson, creepy slade wilson (he's not evil in this one, but he's definitely a little creepy), broken bones, medical inacuracies, bruce trying to be a good dad, jason trying to be a good brother,

there is talk of self harm in this fic. please don't read if that triggers you.

Bruce stared at the x-rays Leslie had put up for him to see. Half healed breaks and bright white lines crossed almost every inch of bone.

His son’s bones. Dick’s bones. What had happened to his boy?

“W-how?” he whispered, still staring.

“Bruce, either he was tortured or he doesn’t get the right treatment. If any. Because if I’d been treating him, I would have seen this.” Leslie said, voice firm, but Bruce knew she was just as worried.

“I don’t…”

“Has he been missing at all recently? Last… six months or so?”

“Not… not for more than a week. He goes to space with the Titans a lot, I think.” Bruce wasn’t sure and he hated that. Hated that he didn’t know what his son did. But he’d promised to back off. To not stalk his kids because they hated it and they pulled away when he did.

But now… now he wanted to keep Dick and all of his kids here, in the manor, away from anything that could ever hurt them.

“I’m going to compare these to the ones I have. If you could give me any you have, it would help.”

“With what?”

Leslie spoke in a gentle voice. “Figuring out when this happened.”

“Oh. Right. Um, Alfred…” Bruce trailed off, mentally trying to make a timeline. But there were so many. So many breaks and cracks.

“Do you want me to ask Alfred?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Leslie set a hand on Bruce’s shoulder, then walked away.

For a moment, Bruce just stared at the x-rays. Then he sighed and walked over to Dick’s bed, sitting down next to Jason.

“Jaylad?” he whispered.

“What?”

“Are you… okay”?” Bruce knew he wasn’t, and when Jason gave him funny look, he smiled a little. “I know. I just… talk to me. Please.”

Jason blinked. “Saw the x-rays.”

Bruce hummed.

“Ain’t normal.”

“No. Leslie’s going to try to figure out a timeline. I’ll… we’ll talk to him when he wakes up. We’ll find out what’s happening.”

Jason hesitated, clearly wanting to say something.

“Jay? If you know something… I’m not mad at him. No matter what, I’m not mad. I’m worried. I’m scared. My son’s hurt and been hurting and I didn’t know.”

A soft sigh, then Jason said, “He’s been seeing Deathstroke. I don’t know why, or what they do. I just know that every so often, he meets up with him. I’m not telling you how I know.”

Bruce wanted to scream. “Okay. Does – is Dick hurt when he comes back from these meetings?”

“Not sure. I don’t see ‘im till a couple days after he gets back usually.” Jason cleared his throat. “He seems okay then, though.”

That was something, Bruce supposed. “Thank you for telling me, Jaylad.”

“You didn’t hear it from me. He’ll be pissed.”

“I know. I’ll tell him I figured it out on my own.”

Jason frowned, looking over. “Didn’t you say you’d keep out?”

“I did. But I’d rather he be mad at me than at you.”

“Oh.”

It took a few hours for Leslie to come back. And when she did, she was frowning. “Bruce, can I talk to you? Privately?” her eyes darted around Dick’s bed, scanning over all of the kids surrounding his bed.

Bruce stood. “We can talk somewhere else, but there’s cameras here, and Tim can hack them all. And Barbra has access.”

A frown then, “I’d like to tell you first, then.”

“Tim, Barbra.”

“Yeah, I got it.” Tim mumbled, putting his phone down.

Barbra glanced at Leslie, then nodded.

“Thank you.” Bruce said, leading Leslie to a secluded part of the cave. “What is it?”

She took a deep breath. “I don’t – I think this all started after… well, I don’t know what it was. You handled it and the files are labeled… improperly.”

Bruce only did that when it his children asked and there had been few times he’d agreed. “When?”

“Right after you adopted Jason. There’s a gap. And it’s not that he was with the Titans, because you have those files. But while he was with the Titans, for about two months, there’s nothing, then he comes here and receives treatment for a lot of injuries on par with torture. Then he goes back to Titans.”

Bruce froze. “What?” Deathstroke. “Shit.”

“Bruce, what happened?”

“I can’t tell you. Treat him.” Bruce didn’t give her a chance to answer before he’d turned on his heel and strode away, going for his suit. He met Jason’s eyes as he walked past, and then Jason was out of his seat and following him. “B?”

“Jason, stay here -”

“No. I’m coming with you. Don’t be stupid.”

Bruce hesitated, torn between listening to his son and wanting to keep him here.

“I know more. I’ll let you lead, but you need me and you know it.”

“...Fine.”

“Thank you.” Jason said quietly, grabbing his helmet. “I assume you know where I’m staying?”

“I do.”

“I’ll meet you there.” Jason put his helmet on and went to bis bike, speeding off before anyone could say anything. All eyes were on Bruce now.

“Jason and I are going to take care of something. I need the rest of you to stay here. Please.”

“Regular check ins.” Barbra said, no room for argument.

“Of course.”

Bruce slipped in through the window, Jason right behind him. He could hear voices. Slade and an older man. They moved through the shadows, stopping in the doorway of the kitchen. The older man saw him and frowned.

“Slade, you seem to have a visitor.”

He hadn’t seen Jason. Good.

Slade turned around. “I’d ask how you found me but… well, I think it’s rather obvious. Why are you here?” he just sounded annoyed.

“Nightwing.”

Slade’s face twitched, though anyone else would’ve missed it. “What about him?”

“He’s been meeting up with you. Why?” Bruce didn’t make any accusations. He didn’t want to piss Slade off anymore than he already had. “What are you doing with him?”

A sick grin split Slade’s face. “You sure you wanna know what I’m doing with your son?”

He didn’t. But he needed to. “…does it involve breaking his bones?”

Slade faltered. “What?”

“When he’s with you, are his bones being broken?”

“No. Why would you even think that?”

Bruce huffed, and turned away. As much as he hated to admit it, Slade was telling the truth.

“Wayne. What’s going on?”

“Someone, something, broke his bones.”

“Which ones?”

“All of them.”

A moment of silence. “You don’t know when it happened?”

“No.”

“When I had him, when he was a teenager, I gave him some of the serum I was given.”

Bruce turned, glaring. “What?” he hissed.

“He didn’t know. He was out when I did it. He may not know he’s breaking anything.”

“He – no. These are full breaks. There’s no way he doesn’t know.”

Slade frowned, and said nothing.

“Is it the serum?”

“No. But hairline fractures, little cracks… those he may not know about.”

Bruce held back a winne gave him a curt nod. “Anything else you want to share?”

“Not particularly.”

“Goodbye.” Bruce turned and followed Jason out of the house.

“Wayne.” Slade called, and Bruce stopped, but didn’t look back. “When you find out who, tell me. Or send Hood to tell me.”

“Why?” Bruce knew why.

“I think you know the answer to that.”

He gritted his teeth and left.

“B?” Dick’s raspy voice jolted Bruce awake, blinking at his son.

“Dick. You’re awake.”

“Yeah… what happened?”

“You were hit with fear gas. You fell a bit and we – Leslie and I were worried you’d broken something so I brought you to the cave and we did a full set of x-rays. We x-rayed your whole body.”

Dick didn’t flinch or suck in air or look away or do anything to indicate that he knew what they’d seen on the x-rays. “Did I? Break something, I mean.”

“Not this time, no. But… we did find something concerning.”

“What?” Dick still seemed unaware.

Bruce sighed. “Dick, you know you can go to Leslie for treatment, right? I don’t have access to your medical records anymore.”

“I do.”

“Then – then can you tell me who’s bee treating the breaks?”

Dick frowned at Bruce. “What breaks?”

There was the lie. Bruce saw it now. “Your bones, Dick. They’ve been broken so many times. Most of them we don’t have records of. We checked. Well, Leslie did.”

Dick turned away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Dick-”

“I said I don’t know!” he yelled. Jason and Tim, who had been talking quietly at the computer stopped and turned around. Jason was walking over.

“The fuck did you say, old man?” he snapped at Bruce, assuming something had been said.

“I didn’t – I’m sorry. I just, Dick, I don’t believe that you have no idea that you’ve been breaking your bones.”

Jason frowned, looking over to Dick, waiting.

“Well, you should because I don’t.”

“Dickie, have you seen the pictures?” Jason asked softly.

“What? No, why?”

“B, show ‘im.”

Bruce hesitated.

“Now, Bruce.”

He stood and grabbed a tablet sitting nearby, and pulled up Dick’s x-rays. Then he handed the tablet to Dick.

Quietly, Dick scrolled through the images. His expression didn’t change.

“Dickie, tell us what’s going on.” Jason said, making sure he spoke softly and gently.

“I told you, I don’t know.”

“Is it Slade?” Jason asked. “Is he hurting you?”

Dick’s head snapped up. “How do you-” he turned to Bruce. “You’ve been stalking me, haven’t you?” he snarled.

Before Bruce could respond, Jason said, “No, he hasn’t. I saw that Slade was in Blud so I went to check on you. I saw you get into a car with ‘im. And then I started checking the cameras there and every so often, you go with him. We went and talked to him. But if he’s hurting you-”

“He’s not.” Dick said quietly. “It’t not Slade.”

“Then who is, chum? Please, let us help.” Bruce begged, touching Dick’s hand.

For a few minutes, Dick was silent. Then he said, “I am.”

“What?” Bruce asked, and Jason frowned.

“I’m doing it. I get – when I break something, I don’t let it heal right.”

“The hell would you do that for?” Jason asked.

“Because… if I did it any other way, you’d have all figured it out a long time ago.”

Jason was still frowning. “What-”

“Jason, can you give us a moment.” Bruce said, making it clear that he wasn’t asking. “Take Tim upstairs.”

“But-”

“Now.”

Jason huffed, but listened, and walked away, dragging Tim with him. Bruce waited a minute before he said softly to Dick, “It’s self harm. That’s what this is.”

Dick nodded once.

“I’m going to give you resources. If you haven’t tried any by the end of the month, I’m going to intervene. Is that fair?”

“Two months.”

“No.”

Dick sighed, irritated. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” Bruce said softly, then, “What… what are you doing with Slade?”

“Um, we, uh, we have sex.”

Bruce winced. “Is it – is it con – no. Is that a – is that something I need to worry about?”

Dick shook his head. “It’s consensual. It’s not me trying to get hurt. It’s – I don’t know. I don’t have to be perfect. And I know you don’t expect that, but… other heroes do.”

That made Bruce frown. “Who?”

“No. No, you stay out of that, I’m handling it.”

Bruce sighed. “I will stay out of it so long as I don’t see or hear it happening.”

“You’re very difficult.” Dick grumbled.

“Where do you think you all get it from?”

Dick laughed, and Bruce relaxed a little. Maybe everything would be okay.

[xerith-42]

hey, i know you're into blaze but do you have any blaze fics/fics featuring blaze that you could rec?

Mostly the ones I wrote! To my surprise I did find a few other fics in my digging that were quite enjoyable.

Here's the fic I wrote of him getting high with Ein

and here's the fic I wrote of him giving head to Garroth.

I'm sick got a cure? is a very cute short and sweet fic about Laurance and Blaze taking care of a sick Garroth

The Hunt For Laurnace Zvahl is one I have just started reading but I'm very interested in the premise so I've got high hopes

Nightshade and Wither Rose is a much longer fic that I've yet to get into but is really well written

I did dig through the Blaze tag on AO3, but a depressing number of works have him tagged with about a dozen or so other characters, and quite frankly you can sorta tell when a fic is actually going to feature him, and when he's being tagged because the author used him to fill out the student/guard roster.

I'm also VERY picky about how this character is written and I have been known to close an otherwise perfectly fine fanfic because they wrote Blaze improperly. So there's probably some works on AO3 featuring him that are perfectly fine, I'm just sensitive to my favorite character being poorly written.

[qwimchii]

I genuinely don’t understand anons who think they’re entitled to control/criticize creators for their work. Like actually sit the f*ck down and (dis)respectfully stfu.

I apologize for my vulgarity. It’s just that you’re literally one of my, if not, all time favorite writers. Keep doing you girly🩷

LDFJLSIJD its okay no worries 💞

i think that anon was having a bad day or smth but id rather someone tell me if smth was improperly tagged or not (albeit telling me in a nicer way would be preferred...)

but thank you for the love and support!! i appreciate you so much anon 😚

[perfectlysunny02]

https://www.tumblr.com/perfectlysunny02/747933313905426432/all-the-asks-ive-been-getting-about-jumping-ship

I agree it’s not a bad thing to multi ship. I don’t personally do it myself, but I don’t hate on people for doing it. You ship who you wanna ship and have fun with it. That’s what fandom life is supposed to be about.

I do however wish, people would start tagging things correctly again here and on ao3. Because there are plenty of people who’re tagging things that are strictly Buck and Tommy as buddie, or Eddie Diaz , or even Ryan Guzman. I went into the Ryan tag on tumblr this past Friday and the first post was a gif of Buck and Tommy kissing. I went into the buddie tag last night and saw a post about how they want tons of scenes of just Buck Tommy and Chris. Like the first day or two after the kiss I feel like yeah sure it’s fine for some tagging lapses. It’s exciting and new and Bi Buck was finally confirmed after all these years! But we’re now two weeks post kiss and it still seems like people have forgotten how to tag or why tags are a thing and then getting mad when the people going to those tags for the specific reason they are there, get upset at them. And to be fair, I have no idea if it’s happening in the Buck Tommy tag. If it is then my point stands for that as well because people shouldn’t be tagging buddie stuff into there.

OMG YES. YES YES YES.

I honestly think it’s how a lot of new people are flooding into the fandom and they simply just don’t know how to tag. that doesn’t make it any less annoying because as a buddie and a bucktommy shipper, sometimes i want them separate, and even with filtering the results, you don’t always get that.

please, please learn to tag properly, if you need help, i will help; and i know several other people who would too.

and if i tagged something improperly, please tell me so i can fix it. we’re all human we make mistakes, it happens. just correct me, and i will fix it, i promise.

[crazyexdirkfriend]

homestuck has always been a character driven story, though. you can’t expect people to automatically be chill with characters suddenly representing a more thematic purpose when, up until that point, homestuck has largely been mostly a series of character studies. as if in order to have a characters story be thematic you can’t keep their characterization in tact. presenting critique of the epilogues as if it’s just people being upset their faves didn’t get happy endings or the right characters didn’t kiss is. super disingenuous. they’re just badly written man.

Hi! So, Homestuck is obviously character driven in many ways because it has a metric shit ton of characters (there's bound to be one or a set that appeal to everyone) and the characters are the heart of the story. For most people, engaging and interesting characters are why they read a story. And that's absolutely fine- but it doesn't mean every story is written that way, and every other manner of writing or reading story is incorrect or bad.

So you don't like the epilogues. That's absolutely fair! There's plenty of reasons to not like the epilogues-- such as how it was handled by staff, or elements that were offensive or improperly tagged. But I would like to say that's clearly not what I'm talking about. I'm talking specifically about a not HS-specific notion that character supersedes theme. (You know, like modernised myths that completely ruin the actual meaning of the original text because no attention was paid to theme or purpose)

Like I said, I'm posing a question in order for you to critically examine why. Is it that X, or is it that Y. And you know- it's perfectly fine for you to critically examine your feelings and still go "yeah no canon sucks, I could do it better." Because some people could do better- and sometimes canon sucks. For example, I personally have decided that HS2 canon DOES actually just suck for naming that poor child THAT.

But some people will critically examine why they hate something and think "Actually, Hussie doesn't hate Jake. Jake is a fictional character and I don't like what happened to him, but that doesn't mean that Hussie baited us into liking him and then deliberately gave him a shitty story because he hates Jake and he hates us too." (If anything, I would argue that narrative manipulation points to Hussie baiting people to DISLIKE Jake to bait and switch them, but that's another story.)

And I'm not sitting here saying "the epilogues are perfect and great and everyone who hates them is or thinks they're bad is wrong." I'm not self centered enough to believe that when over half the fandom had a mass exodus after the release and I probably would have joined them if my circumstances at the time were different. The epilogues are a desperately unpleasant read, one I very much struggle with every time I have to reread parts of them before writing something new. Like I said, most people read stories for characters or interesting plots, and it is desperately unpleasant for your favourite character to become a pseudo-philandering self-harming alcoholic who is sexually assaulted and domestically abused and is forced to defecate himself on stage. That's not what I would have written. But, I also don't view it as out of character.

BUT, I do think it's not the right take either to think that HS hasn't always been thematic, deconstruction of the nature of form, playing with narrative manipulation. HS breaks the fourth wall, uses intertextuality, epic narrative form, breaking the actual structure of the website, gameplay, animation etc etc etc. All of those things were so important in making HS what it was. My OG thesis pitch was on narrative manipulation in HS back in 2017-- literally not dissimilar at all to narrative text as God and how that manipulates a reader discussions in the epilogues. Academic journals have been written on how HS uses form to tell its own story. All of those things are as fundamental to HS in my opinion as the idea that it's a story about kids and growing up. The latter is the reason why we LOVE HS. But the former is the reason why it's so important as a seminal text. There's any amount of great stories about kids and growing up-- but they're not HS.

HS could have never had a continuation beyond opening the door unless Hussie wanted to deconstruct the form and the narrative itself, and the concept of endings. HS as a web comic structure in a liminal space ends when the door is open. Now, a very good argument can be made here for "ok then there shouldn't have been an epilogue." I actually don't disagree with that. I think one of the best things Hussie could have done would have been to allow a few more lilypad conversations and have HS finish dead the second the door opens. But it didn't-- and HS could have never had a happy, neat epilogue and have everyone agree on a vision.

On the subject about HS being a story about kids and growing up, HS also says real people don't have character arcs. It's a pretty clear reason as to why everything wasn't tied up neatly at the end of HS proper, and it's a pretty clear reason for most of the epilogues. Recovery isn't linear. Sometimes people grow up wrong. Real people don't have character arcs.

We think of story largely in character arcs so we think-- Dirk always wanted to be a good person, so his arc should be him becoming a good person. Not that Dirk tries so so so hard to be a good person, so hard and it still doesn't make him happy. It still doesn't get him where he wants to be. He's never ever going to be good enough to feel redeemed-- oh and btw, he's literally in a story that's ending, it's falling apart, and he's so so so scared to not exist. He's more scared of that than he is of being a bad person. Is that desperately unpleasant? Of course. Is it out of character? No. It's just not what anyone focusing on a solely character driven story would necessarily do. It requires deconstructing the narrative and then going, what would this guy do next now. Character and theme and narrative and form all have a symbiotic relationship. It's meat and candy.

HS isn't just character driven. But that's just what most of us (MYSELF INCLUDED) care about. And that's not wrong, that's not bad, that's not some terrible flaw in recognising one's self in the other. In fact it's the logical reading of a text you love. But you actually miss a huge chunk of what makes HS so special if you're only looking at the characters and their interactions and arcs. You miss a lot of what makes a lot of stories so interesting. It also makes it a lot harder to not become disillusioned when stories get difficult or disappointing or unpleasant. But I wouldn't still be here if I didn't think parts of recent HS were worth investigating and analysing.

(Also just for transparency: my original post wasn't actually about the epilogues, though considering my subsequent and previous post I entirely understand that it's been read that way. I saw art on my dash by a meta poster I remember from 2018 who got a lot of stick at the time for thematic analysis. Including from myself. And I was considering whether or not that was unfair. Because a character can thematically represent something that they are not, in actuality. Things can happen to a character that represent something else. Freudian analysis if you will. And if I wasn't caught up in being outraged that he'd said something sticky about one of my favourite characters, something that did not happen in the text, then maybe I would have been able to engage with it on a more in depth level. And I annoyingly missed the opportunity to investigate it in my HS thesis in 2019 because of my own hubris.)

Anyway I'm a realish person and I don't have a character arc but I do grow up in weird ways that would make younger me desperately uncomfortable. I think that's a theme in itself.