#it's me i'm another girl

[maneskings]

breaking news: another girl listens to 1d and mourns the good 2012-2014 times!!!

[cherrywhite]

hey silt verses? I just want to talk

[gl1tched-g0th]

"Wow you write this character really well!" Thanks I knew them personally

[hackedhearts]

I hope Robert Sheehan knows that he changed many lives through Klaus despite how things ended for the character. Klaus Hargreeves made people feel seen, feel understood, feel less alone. He did his absolute best with the cards that he was given and he gave life to Klaus beautifully despite whatever the writers demanded of the character.

I'll take Klaus with me forever. Happily at that. Whether that ending happened or went differently, I would still love Klaus deeply. Forever will. I wouldn't trade all the years I've invested in Umbrella Academy and into my incredibly flawled but incredibly beautiful Klaus Hargreeves for nothing in the world. The end doesn't mean shit to me because I still got the good memories of the journey to remember.

Lots of love to Robert for his work. He made Klaus so human, so relatable, someone that I would give the world for just so he could be happy. I don’t see any other actor who could've done the beautiful and amazing job that he did by bringing Klaus to life in such a magical way. I will forever be thankful that he didn't turn down Klaus role in the end, despite considering it due to not wanting to be typecast to a role with similarities to Nathan from Misfits — and thanks to the friend who convinced him to give Klaus a chance!

Love you, Klaus Hargreeves. You'll be my bestie forever and ever, you lovely bastard.

[novelconcepts]

One of the most fundamentally interesting things to me about YJ and writing fic, specifically, is how the blame changes hands depending on the story. On whose perspective you're writing from. On whose story it is at a given moment. The very thing I dislike about viewers missing the point becomes so fascinating to me from within the narrative. Who are these characters when seen through the eyes of their peers?

Who does Jackie become? If you're Shauna, she's the love of your life, and your greatest rival, and the other half of your soul, and the person you blame for your dead dreams. If you're Van, she's the respected captain who earns none of your respect in the woods, the one who left you to die without blinking, the easiest target for teenage malice. If you're Natalie, she's competition for affection, the blabbermouth who can't leave well enough alone, the hands putting themselves to no good use. If you're Jackie? You're just a girl. You're so tired. You're so scared. You're losing face a little more every day, and you're made of despair, and you can't even trust your best friend. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault.

Who does Lottie become? If you're Natalie, she's your direct foil, the splinter under the edge of your thumbnail, the smart mouth to match your own, the confusing amalgamation of normal friend and mad ritual. If you're Misty, she's the first shred of obvious power in months, a leader who might need to be nudged back into line, a fascinating exercise in hitching your wagon to the right star early on. If you're Taissa, she's flat-nuts and endlessly frustrating, she's got your girlfriend's full attention, she's incredibly dangerous. If you're Lottie? You're just a girl. You're so tired. You're so scared. You've built a pedestal you can't keep your balance on, and you're not sure if you're right or going crazy, and you didn't want this. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault.

From outside the narrative, there is no bad guy. There is no blame. It is no one's fault. It is Man v. Nature, they are doing the best they can with an impossible situation. They're all trying to contribute what they can to the story, for better or worse.

From inside the narrative, you are a teenager trapped in a society constructed entirely of bare-bones-survival with the wildest assortment of girls. From inside the narrative, to stay human, you have to love and fight, respect and judge. Every story changes the game. Every story shifts the blame. A hero in one has the bloodiest hands in the next. And that, to me, is such a thrilling sandbox to play in.

[unpersoniverse]

Skén:nen sá:sewh

as promised, here's Precious boy™ getting kissed by Precious wife™ because he deserves all the love in the world :cc

translation: Get home safe

[fictionadventurer]

Maybe the problem with Christian fiction is that it's non-denominational. People are just "Christian", with no effort put into showing what practicing that religion looks like for them specifically. No indication that there are other Christians who could have different beliefs. No wrestling with differing ideas and the struggle of how one should live out their Christian faith. And that makes it unrealistic and unrelatable.

[paranormaljones]

I'm rereading Lockwood & Co. and I just started The Screaming Staircase and. the thought of little 8-year-old Lucy Carlyle walking around in an agency uniform actually makes me so sick to my stomach.

[selquet]

Don’t go. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me.

[insane-in-the-membranee]

Men fucking scare me.

Now, some are going to go like, "it's not all men", " Are you also scared of your dad/brother/male relative?", "Another 'feminist' hating on men" and so on probably. Sure, it's not all men but it's always men.

I was scrolling insta when I came across a reel where a guy is complaining about how whenever there is a crime concerning a woman, we raise our voice and protest yet when there is a crime concerning a man, there is barely even news coverage. Which is certainly true and fair. But seriously, right now? Why is it that men always complain whenever people are trying to give justice to a poor victim girl?? I totally agree that whether men or women, all victims should get their justice but have some fucking sympathy instead of complaining?!?

Next, another reel where a lawyer guy was talking about women's safety laws and all, the comments? "Law for women, la*da for men". Well, why don't you go and take a look at the statistics? Maybe read the news daily, I mean the local one. Again, I'm NOT against men's safety, ofc no. It's just that, why can't men complain or raise their concerns without pulling the women with them? What do you want? The laws that are made for us (not that they're REALLY useful) to go nil??? Or what?? Equality? That is feminism. Fucking equality!! You don't hear a true feminist complaining, "why do men get paid more than us? Salary for men, chillar for women" or anything, instead it's "We want to get paid the same as that of a man." Again, I'm NOT speaking against men particularly, just the ones who feel enraged towards us just because we want to get treated as a human first, and equally.

I was talking to a guy friend and his attitude is, "Yeah what happened to her is TERRIBLE but hey, it's not like I can do anything about that? I would never do that and be a good person but that's all I can do, I can't tell the rapists that what they did was wrong and they'd too be like 'oh yes yes oops we did wrong' right?". Now, I do understand his perspective but sure a bit more sympathy and kindness won't hurt anyone?? He even has a sister!! And in the age of social media, anyone with a phone can contribute to some extent.

When I read the details of the case, my soul cried out. I can't even imagine her sorrow. Oh my goodness. My insides felt all queasy reading those gruesome details. All girls of all ages have almost experienced a bad incident with men. Harassment, molestation, abuse, assault, SOMETHING! So many cases everyday and so many more which don't even get registered. Rapes have become so common in India that unless and until it's something very gruesome, people don't even bother that much. It's always "What has it got to do with me" until it's someone you, someone who is close to you. 78 years of independence yet girls are still caged behind walls.

It's always "Beti Bachao, Beti Padhao", Beti padh toh li lekin Beti bach nahi pai. Why is it always "Arre voh toh ladhka, voh toh aise he karega", Voh aisa kyu karega?!?

Why is that ladhkiyo ko mana karte hai raat mein bahar jaane ke liye because it's not safe for her, lekin ladhke puri raat awaaragardi kare, koi dikkat nahi.

Why can't we just teach boys to respect women? To not just respect women, but to respect everyone? The next person is a living being, is that not a good enough reason to not be cruel??

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C-ry4xNvZw0/?igsh=N2M0bW51c3dueGpi

Ajeeb toh hai.

[thevoicefromthestars]

[g1rlr0b1n]

Yet another commission by the amazingly talented @ookamihanta!!! Go check out their page to see more art!!! Their commissions are still open so go check that out as well!!! I highly recommend them!!! 👹

Gods and Demons (Preview)

Damian's preparations for departure were almost complete when Superman hailed him down. For a moment, Damian considered pretending he had not seen him, but ultimately rose to meet the two men who had now landed gracefully beside him and Goliath. He was familiar with the man known as Superman, but the second man was a stranger to him. He was tall with wavy dark locks framing a sharp jawline and piercing steely grey-blue eyes, he bore a resemblance to the other man. He had a pretty good idea now of who he might be. The man's attire was peculiar though, causing Damian to wrinkle his nose slightly in disapproval. He wore a black suit adorned with shimmering silver stars, his deep crimson colored cloak billowing behind him. The most unnerving part of his uniform however, was the obvious missing "S" shield in the center of his chest, leaving the skin underneath exposed for all to see. Damian quickly averted his gaze, focusing back on Superman. “What’s this?” Damian's features contorted in suspicion as Superman extended a piece of paper towards him.

“An olive branch” he replied calmly, then motioned to the tall figure standing next to him, Kal-El cleared his throat, “this is my son, Zod-El. He will be stationed in Tibet with you for the foreseeable future.” There was a moment of tense silence as if to allow for Damian to process the information. Then, Superman spoke again, breaking the stillness. "Consider him an ambassador of good faith," he said firmly.

Damian scoffed, crossing his arms, “Tt. More like a spy to make sure I behave," he retorted with a sharp edge to his voice. The Justice League's true intentions were clear, they had their own agenda, but he intended to manipulate it to his advantage. Despite their lack of trust in Damian's ability to change the League of Assassins, it gave them an excuse to keep him under observation and under their protection. They needed to keep Damian alive regardless of his intentions because the absolute worst case scenario for them would be for him to lose control. It was an obvious choice, he was the only option with ties to the Justice League and a genuine desire to make the world better, even if his methods had not been received well by them. He could only stand to benefit from such a relationship, nonetheless, he’d make them work for it.

Superman let out a weary sigh, his broad shoulders slumping in exhaustion, “you agreed to observation after the attempts on your life," he reminded Damian sternly. The mention of those close calls made Damian flinch slightly, the memories still fresh and painful. Ever since his grandfather’s passing things had not gone as smoothly as anticipated, with everyone with even the slightest of claims coming out of the woodworks, but he survived and he’d continue to do so. Of course, some extra protection would be prudent, even though he had managed to reunite his family giving him the most claim, the attacks still occurred. His mother had even begun to express concern, certain that there was a rat among his inner circle. Damian didn’t want to consider that, the notion that the people he cared for most wanted him dead. Although it was a reality that he hated to admit, he could probably benefit from an impartial set of eyes and ears. Yet, Damian was proud if nothing else and he refused to allow anyone to think him weak.

"That may be," Damian huffed, "but I never agreed to an indefinite placement and certainly not from one of your B-list cast offs." His lip curled teasingly as he surveyed the man clad in black in front of him. He was curious to see how he would react.

The man grit his teeth and extended a hand with a forced smile. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Dam-”

Damian interrupted firmly, his piercing gaze fixed on the man's face. “You may call me The Demon’s Head.”

The man chuckled nervously as he pushed back some unruly curls from his forehead. “No offense but...” he hesitated before continuing, “I’d rather call you anything else.”

Damian's lips curled into a menacing smile, his pearly whites barred behind a mask of feigned politeness. "Then, may I have the pleasure of calling you Jonathan?" The man remained silent, his expression guarded. Damian pressed on. "surprised that I know your other name?"

He cleared his throat, his voice betraying forced calmness as he responded, "Not really...and it's just Jon."

The smile fell from Damian's face, replaced by a look of disdain, "I'd rather call you anything else." The lack of push back from his opponent was slightly off-putting, it was simply no fun if they just stood there and took it. But then again, what did he really expect from the son of the Big Blue Boy Scout, always so righteous and obedient.

The tension between them hung heavy in the air, like a thick fog that refused to dissipate. Goliath finally broke the awkward silence with a restless shift, his large frame causing the ground to tremble beneath him. "I see there's no point in arguing with you," he grumbled, casting a patronizing look at Jon. "If Super Slut is ready to depart, then we shall." With the grace of a seasoned rider, Damian pulled himself up and swung himself onto his fiery red companion, feeling the heat emanating from its powerful body. Beside him, Jon effortlessly lifted himself off the ground and into the air. The bat dragon spread its massive wings and with a few strong flaps they ascended into the sky.

[buttercupshands]

Siffrin in a Stardust Cookie event outfit because the name speaks for itself now if you excuse me, I need to sleep

[tokutaiseichan]

You guys ever think about how the prophecy was talking about a "new moon" and how MC's almost-canon-name is "Luna"?

By the way, you guys know what happened on September 3rd? MC got cursed and sent to Darkwick as a result. Incidentally, (assuming Tokyo Debunker's story took place in 2024...) September 3rd would also be a night of new moon. 🌑

Coincidence? Perhaps it is... but!

I know this is a reach but what if the prophecy wasn't only talking about the ghouls but also MC?

There's also how MC got placed in / associated with the old Clementia dorm and Clementia is supposedly the Roman goddess of salvation and mercy.

Ringing any bells?

[coquelicoq]

as a huge unreliable narrator enjoyer i love the fact that the raven tower is narrated by someone who cannot lie. so the narration is not unreliable, and any kind of uncertainty is always couched in "here is a story i have heard" or "i imagine", but it scratches the same itch as unreliable narration because the evidentiality of the narration is still so central, just in the opposite way. stories that don't care about where the narrator is getting their information or what biases are present in the way that information is shared with us are on one end of a spectrum, and stories that do care about those things are on the other end, and the raven tower is firmly situated alongside the unreliably narrated stories even though the whole point is that the narrator is as motivated as it is possible to be to never say something that is untrue. and it's fascinating to see how ann leckie manages to build suspense and subvert expectations without really at any point deliberately misleading the reader. every time i reread one of her books, the bouncing of the dvd screensaver in my brain gets a little more frenetic. how does she do what she does. ann leckie what is your secret.

[novelconcepts]

The more the show progresses, the more I want to see the 90s cast infiltrating the modern timeline. We've gotten hints of it with Shauna and her younger self, her Jackie hauntings. We've gotten a little more with adult Lottie seeing teenage Nat (and Laura Lee), and with Natalie getting teenage Lottie in her final moments. I want more. I want the teen cast to be absolutely invasive on pivotal adult moments, infecting their adult counterparts when least expected. I want Taissa's argument with Van to dissolve into their teenage selves, their bond endless and timeless and inescapable. I want Misty absolutely wrecked by young Natalie lurking around corners, watching from mirrors. I want to see these women unable to navigate adulthood without the specters of their teenage selves cropping up absolutely everywhere, more and more as they let the memories in, as they stop being able to repress the trauma. They didn't grow up. They never could. You are always doomed to regress around your high school teammates. You are haunted by the phantom elements of your misspent youth. It is a comfort, and it is a gift, and it is a trial, and it is a curse. I would love to see that reflected with greater intensity, until the lines blur, until the timelines have no choice but to intersect. They haven't escaped themselves at all. They didn't grow up. They just got older.