#into it always being About Him

[rogloptimist]

reading through this interview with tadej’s parents and hmmmm being conflict averse soo fun i think something could be said about this

[remcadll]

Dick is never going to get to have a midlife crisis because Bruce is going through his for him. also because he will not be making it to 40.

[chloesimaginationthings]

Michael Afton’s happiest day in FNAF

[arkangelo-7]

I think the scariest part about Batman is the loyalty he inspires. Like this motherfucker has an army of children who might at any given time hate his guts, but are still 100% willing to throw hands for him if Bruce needs them to. And then there’s the Justice League, who also at any given time might hate his guts or find him insanely irritating and/or weird, but will also fall in line and listen to his plans if the need arises. And that’s like the most intense form of power someone can wield—voluntary obedience from people physically more capable than them.

[o3o-lapd-o3o]

(any time after the events of the vengeance saga & ithaca saga)

*under the ocean in poseidon's palace*

poseidon: *talking with amphitrite*

poseidon: i wouldn't wish that upon my worse enemy!

poseidon: *pauses and feels phantom pains from his old impalement wounds/scars*

poseidon: *eye twitching* ...unless of course...we're talking about my enemy, odysseus.

poseidon: *looking up at the ocean's surface from his underwater palace*

poseidon: fuck you odysseus, you know what you did!

amphitrite: ...

amphitrite: *sighs*

*meanwhile on ithaca*

odysseus: *yapping away with penelope whilst on a walk through the palace grounds*

odysseus: so then i said "cause i don't even have to kill you, i just have to avoid yo-"

odysseus: *violently sneezes*

penelope: ...

penelope: are you feeling unwell, my love?

odysseus: no i'm fine.

odysseus: i just get the feeling im being bad-mouthed...again

odysseus: *turns head and glares at the ocean*

[musubiki]

my favorite fields of mistria boys 🥰

[cidnangarlond]

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[melmov]

I cast: curse of the eldest (can’t ask for help)

[morganbritton132]

Tommy finds out that Steve has a new friend (Dustin) but can’t figure out who it is (because it’s Dustin), and just terrorizes the school out of jealousy (because his ex-best friend is BFFs with a middle schooler).

He overhears Steve talking on the pay phone and say, “How is it my fault you don’t have a dad?”

Followed by, “Yeah, I heard it. That was mean. Sorry.”

Followed by, “I was - obviously I’m gonna pick up your homework, buddy. Get better.”

Steve has never told him sorry. He’s never called him buddy. Now Tommy is actively bullying people in this school with dead dads because Steve can’t be normal and accept that their friendship is over.

Carol raises her eyebrow, “Steve can’t accept it?”

“That’s what I said.”

[shininas-ideals]

If there isn't a kunikidazai interaction in the next few chapters I will RIOT

Bonus:

[chloesimaginationthings]

The FNAF story of the one you shouldn’t have killed..

[hurtspideyparker]

fun fact: Bucky never voluntarily fought!

He was drafted into WWII, brainwashed against his will for 70 years, targeted and forced to run, then pulled into his best friend's wars, and finally feels he must atone for all the harm he was forced to do. He didn't want to be here, and he can't escape

[cloudfishcg]

referring to the cleanup arc

[saetiate]

sae knowing about your little crush on him and making you nervous on purpose. he stands just a little closer than usual, brushes up against you when he walks by, puts his hand on the small of your back. just to listen to your breath hitch, to watch you straighten, your eyes widen, a ghost of a smile on his face at every reaction you make

[cherryapplefish]

I am so sad. I want a world for Caleb where nothing bad happens to him.

I want him to be born to loving parents who are best friends with MC’s parents.

When MC is born he’s in awe and auntie and uncle tell him, “She’s like your sister. You have to protect her like an older brother would.”

They grow up together. Caleb sees her every weekend because their parents are always getting together.

When Caleb’s in the second grade, MC is starting kindergarten and he makes sure to protect her from the older kids who like to tease and tug at her pigtails.

In high school, Caleb gets to check in on her. He walks her to classes, tutors her in the subjects she’s struggling with, and they join the same clubs because they’re so alike it’s almost ridiculous.

And in college they fall in love. Except maybe that’s silly because Caleb’s always loved MC. There’s never been a question of if maybe just how much.

He loves her like she’s his soul. He loves her like she’s the sun. He loves her like he’s the earth, pulled in by her gravity, given life by her light.

He loves her on soft days, when the summer sun beats down on them and yet she’s still pressed into his side reading some book.

He loves her on hard days, when rain beats down against the roof, thunder roaring over the sounds of her sobs. Her tears fall faster than the water drops outside and he presses her face into his neck, whispers, “You’re good enough. I promise you are. You’re perfect.”

He loves her because all he’s ever known is love and all he’s ever seen her as is love.