#it's all very disconcerting

[jakeperalta]

somehow someone else has my phone number on their nhs file which means I've been getting all their communications for TWO YEARS. apparently they have a therapy appointment on monday so I sure hope they've got that written down somewhere since I'm the one getting texts about it

[bumblingbabooshka]

Janeway in 'Nothing Human' vs Tuvok in 'Resolutions' There's something here I know there is I can almost wrap my teeth around it.

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Just finished Reservoir Dogs, and I—

what— what… was that? [sigh] a chain of very intelligent decisions not influenced by emotion [c o U gh] deep, deep love at all oh god

I don’t even like crime moves and keep watching crime movies for the whump thinking the next one will be different— none of them ever are. They’re very well-done but awful at the same time, you know? I like grimdark but not this specific brand of realistic fiction grimdark. It’s not even cathartic (to me). No, it’s seven gigantic shots of depresso espresso injected into the bone marrow and idk how to feel about it, but one thing is for certain:

I am living for the White-Orange bromance… it was nice while it lasted djdjdjdnjdkdkdjdmsmmsls

[mad-hunts]

one thing about barton is that he (unfortunately) has the most dead-eyed stare half the time, even when he's describing something extremely traumatic that happened to him, so people may not know whether it's due to the fact that he just doesn't feel like he has ' life ' in him or if this is because he was really messed up by the trauma (it's both. it's both in most cases)

[semiotomatics]

does anyone else find heart palpitations just. extremely unpleasant? like i know theyre not ~bad or anything but i still Hate having them

[minglana]

the fog..... THE FOOOGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[malaierba]

Found a blog that calls the Karamatsu + Ichimatsu + Jyushimatsu trio the "problematic trio" and wow, let's see, nudism, shits on tables, and can sustain a boner for hours while submerged in icy water at the mere mention of girls? They're so right lmfao

[arledrone]

p5 suou au microwaving in my head thinking about shiho's parents' change of heart eventually lead to katsuya and maya taking her in. hmm. oh i could be so unhinged about this. akechi has shit to Say about this and none of the Phantom Thieves are going to enjoy it because they always strive for the ideal outcome and. well. akechi does not. and i think too much peace so suddenly with her parents would just leave Shiho on edge after so long under their scrutiny anyway.

[87dvhnk]

"i read the wiki and i saw the pages/panels already, why do i need to read the comics?"

because a) some those comics fuck with awing dexterity and stamina b) there's a good chance shit is out of context or simply misrepresented (innocently, humorously, ignorantly or maliciously) and c) you know the beats/endings of tons of shit, but it doesn't impede your enjoyment of it, now does it? sure it's nice to go in spoiler free, but if the gimmick of spoiling material is all a piece of media has, then that piece of media is meritless. you knew who luke skywalker's father was before you saw the movie. is it still worth watching? you knew romeo and juliet died before you read the play. is it still worth reading? do you not want to go on a journey? do you not want to feel something? do you not want to commiserate about the human experience through art? a wiki will never be comprehensive enough to cover everything you would have read or seen yourself--it can't be, not without being the thing itself. even then, you still miss the things not on the page/screen, the things that are only implied, the things that go unstated, or else conspicuously omitted. don't talk to me about shit haunting the narrative if the only haunting you've ever been apart of was your passing despite your dogshit analysis skills haunting the conscience of your eng 101 adjunct professor in perpetual fear of losing their contract and being relocated from their car to under a bridge by demanding college students demonstrate basic reading comprehension, critical thinking, and coherent argumentative skills. boast about killing the author? my friend, you are cain advancing in the fields, skulking, stepping in abel's footprints, filled with murderous intent, with nothing but the chinese telephone-equivalent of a description of a weapon cutting into your soft palms.

[jeremiahthefroge]

god if I get to that rewrite I am going to make cadenza an uncanny horror girlie. Doesn't blink nearly enough. Sits eerily still sometimes. Just beautiful and very sweet but also just Unnerving. I want the scene of her father finding her to be really uncomfortable, not just because of the tragedy, but because of the WAY Cadenza acts. The way she talks. I want her to speak in a way children do not speak, but sound calm, turned away from Hayden, still picking the flowers, maybe some soot on her. Then he asks her a question, and she turns around, and she looks at him and there's tears running down her face, but her expression is mostly calm, her eyes wide open, looking into his, as she tells him how her mother and father are burning alive in the village. Clearly something is WRONG with her. And maybe Hayden chalks it up to the trauma at first, the way she responds to the tragedy, but even as she grows up, she's still got that weird stare, that odd way of speaking.

[crimeronan]

my latest thing to accept healthwise is that my memory is dogshit and that my recollections are imperfect to the point of being fully made-up and that i can't actually even remember if i've ever Had a good memory or not because i don't know if my memories of having a good memory are real. this sounds like the result of years of dedicated gaslighting but i swear to god my brain actually is this dogshit, no external forces have Done This To Me. it DOES make it really easy to gaslight MYSELF, though.

[vulcandyke]

impossible to watch murder she wrote without running into a mash cast member. mike farrell i am trying to relax and play sudoku and watch my show. what are you doing here

[hussyknee]

When your favourite Tumblr follows you back

[goddess-of-graphite]

was thinking about this again and... i mean it’s not really the prompt but it did remind me of the ghostspeak-from-afar thing

anyway have this thing that was sitting in my notes for ages

.

.

“Once the doorway has been opened, it cannot be so easily closed again.”

Clockwork’s warning rings in his ears, over and over again, even as he helps the rest of his fright pack their things into the Spectre Speeder.

It is a risk. Perhaps not one he should be taking, as King-to-be, but...

There is an ache, a hollow place where another of their little ghostly family used to be. Something had ripped one of their own from them, and ghosts are not beings who let go easily. Team Phantom will not give up hope of finding their lost member any easier.

So they gather what they cannot leave behind, unsure when they will be back (if they will ever be able to return) and sequester it all away in the Speeder, along with everything they’d need to build a portal or three to the Ghost Zone, their weapons, and enough ectoplasm to keep a city running for thirty years; they say their goodbyes without fanfare and promise to call if they can get the Fenton Fones working where they’re going.

And then they leave, disappearing through the portal in the Fentons’ basement.

Clockwork said that Jason had been forcibly returned to whence he came. That is their only clue, except for the stories he used to tell - about a dark city, and a man dressed as a bat, and rooftops guarded by gargoyles.

They will start with that.

.

Jason is angry, and mourning, and half-convinced his memories of the time in between dying and living are little more than strange fantasies.

The other half of him already knows there is no way back, even if the memories are real.

(His fright is gone and it hurts- )

He tells no one of the memories. He speaks nothing of ghosts, and infinite realms, and a half-dead boy and his friends and the things they did together. Instead he settles back into a life he had left behind, a skin that feels too big for him and yet far too small, a world that is familiar in the worst of ways.

He goes along with the woman who dragged his soul back into his walking corpse until she turns him loose on Gotham, and he rages and kills and taunts the Bat with all his failures because he has nothing else.

He wrestles with the corrupted energy of the Lazarus Pit and does things he regrets. He stands on a precipice, balanced precariously between what he thinks he can live (hah) with and what he knows he cannot. He decapitates drug lords. He avoids the new Robin. He kills those who harm the innocent. He doesn’t interfere when he sees the bats in trouble. He claims Crime Alley as his turf (his haunt, wails something inside of him) and becomes a crime lord. He can’t help himself from leaving clues for the bats, that the boy they buried might not be truly gone.

He fights the Bat, once. It is violent and bloody and when it’s over Jason is left seething with rage that both is and is not his own.

So the next time they cross paths, he fights the Bat again.

And again.

And-

(There is a sound like a bell, like ice shifting, like whale song, like static and the caw of crows and a million other little things; the silent ringing of the space between stars, cold and heat and light and colour. It is a roar and a whisper and a siren’s call, a voice so familiar to him that it soothes the jagged, broken pieces inside of him.

It rings across Gotham, not heard so much as felt down to your very bones; once, twice. He is still, no breath in his lungs, and though Batman is mere yards away with hands on a batarang and a grapple, Jason pays him no attention: his sight is riveted on the horizon, searching for a figure he knows like his own soul.

The third time, Jason answers in kind: a trilling that is too loud to have come from his physical throat. It sounds like glass splintering and the silence after an explosion and the click-click-click of picking a lock, like the clang of metal against metal and the strange sound that lingers in the air afterward, like wings beating and the lyrical call of a lone bird, like a fire burning dry grass.

It contains all the things that have gone unsaid for the past two and a half years he has been alone. Pain and loneliness and anger at things he cannot change. And relief. So much relief that his limbs are weak with it.

They’re here. They’re here they’re here they’re here

They came for him.)

[kkoraki]

I wish I had a good metaphor for how my life feels sometimes, because I wish I could say it felt like I was a citizen of Pleasantville but it's so much more surreal and complicated than that

[seventh-district]

*puts a photo of me in between two random photos i took of the sky today, not because they go together whatsoever but simply so any poor soul that happens to scroll across this post won’t be jumpscared by one giant image of me taking up their entire dash* :)

also yes those are the Everything Stays shoes that i wear far too often and i thought about Moon and flustered my damn self when i was putting them on today and if you want to know why i thought of him specifically… well, you’re just gonna have to read Ch. 4 of ES when i post it on Thursday and you’ll find out 😊