#like right now I'm missing so much shit

[gremlin4goro]

Do you think I should be allowed to buy detective services like five times a week 'cause I keep losing my own belongings in my own home?

[savage-rhi]

Fuschia/Magenta?

[ihamtmus]

it's weird how jhope is Right There and he's like the Most Talented Person but some armys just. don't see him. should be studied

[ruelpsen]

got unexpectedly really bloated tonight and gdi I want some hands on me to help me make some room

[atissi]

if you are 1) currently in a university where your student healthcare covers hormone therapy, and 2) in a good financial, emotional, and social position to start hormone therapy, i would recommend pursuing it. because in my experience, it's a huge pain in the ass to get an endocrinologist once you're on your own

[wild-at-mind]

Not reblogging it for reasons, but I really agree with that person on here who said people are reframing depression and generally feeling shit all the time as a good thing because of the horrors of Gaza. There are people on here heavily implying that you feeling bad and finding it more and more difficult to live with yourself is actually an appropriate response to war and genocide. In some way, it might be. But the thing is, where does that lead? Does it lead to decisive action in accordance to your values, or to nihilistic stewing and self isolation from your community?

The post went on to call it anti-recovery culture- I don't know if I would call it that, because I get why people don't like recovery culture, especially in relation to addiction, but mental illness also. I think that's something I'm not qualified to speak on. So I wouldn't call this anti-recovery culture. Instead I would call it pro-burnout in activism culture. Do you honestly think people who are the most productively working in their communities and participating in actions to help overseas are feeling like this? Or do you think they have learned to use self-accountability and community support to reign themselves in when they begin to burn out emotionally, and rest and recuperate their mind in order to come back stronger? Ask yourself, is that wrong of them to do, because they should be feeling bad, because after all that is the appropriate response....does it mean they don't care, because they don't spend all their time feeling shit? Or perhaps, the truth is, they do care, and are demonstrating it all the time, but they also understand that them feeling shit literally doesn't help anyone. Why can we not talk about or acknowledge this?

[monty-glasses-roxy]

For some reason, this round of meds (same dose and everything as last time) is making me have very violent Realisations and Remembering Things moments. And by that I mean the Thing I Forgot and/or the Realisations show up with a bat and see how hard they can make my brain hit the wall. So anyway.

YOU GUYS REMEMBER SPIKE THE WETFLOOR BOT??? YOU GUYS REMEMBER HER??? THE FIRST FAZBEAR ANIMATRONIC TO BE BORN FROM LOVE INSTEAD OF PAIN??? YOU REMEMBER HER???

CAUSE I JUST DID

[yo9urt]

local man completely obliterated by strength of narrative and character writing in 2023 game of the year

[rubythecrimsonwriter]

Flipping Legacies, middle/end part of Chapter 8, yes this is out of order shush

Snacks are churros grabbed from a street vendor, mostly because they smelled divine while passing by. Natasha grabs enough for six, plus a few extra. Between the super soldiers, the immortals, and the growing children, someone will eat them, she’s sure.

Arms full of churros, she lets herself into the apartment and holds the door open for Nightwing. Drakov’s head pops up from the breakfast nook at the second set of footsteps.

“Drakov, Nightwing,” Natasha introduces shortly. “Nightwing, one of my first trainers and the only one left alive, Drakov, also known as the Winter Soldier or Bucky Barnes.”

Nightwing slows for a second and visibly winces. “...how is Captain America taking that?”

“Mm,” Natasha hums with a mouthful of churro, passing a bag to Drakov.

“Badly,” Drakov says dryly.

“He doesn’t know Drakov is here right now,” Natasha says.

Clint exits the bathroom and works his way down the hall. About halfway down the hall, he registers the vigilante that doesn’t live there and starts grinning.

Natasha raises an eyebrow.

Nightwing catches the look and turns around. Natasha edges her way around because she desperately wants to catch this entire interaction.

Sue her. She’s a spy. Nosy is literally her job description.

Nightwing beams. It’s the only proper word for it.

Clint launches himself at the vigilante, and what follows can only be described as a casual roughhouse. It’d be deadly for most anyone else facing either of them. It’s fast, full strength, and utterly silent.

They break apart as fast as they started, grinning, neither out of breath. They’re both grinning like loons.

“Churro?” Nightwing offers.

“Fuck yes,” Clint says.

This is a normal interaction. Alright. Natasha is not asking.

“I gotta know,” Drakov says, amused. “How long have you two known each other?”

Clint smirks, a bit. Oh. Oh no. Bozhe moy.

“Your call, my dude,” Clint says. “I’m not the one with a secret identity.”

Natasha honestly forgot that no one but her and JARVIS had put everything together to then threaten Batman in the daytime.

“I’ve known him,” Nightwing says, with a deliberateness that speaks volumes, “for longer than Batman’s had Robin.”

Natasha very carefully does not choke. Clint does.

She pounds him on the back while watching Drakov, whose eyebrows have nearly hit his hairline.

“You do realize that you can’t be saying that to just anyone, right?” Drakov says.

“He was trained by Batman,” Natasha says dryly. “I’m pretty sure that’s a challenge to say, come discover my secret identity, I dare you.”

Nightwing laughs. “If Clint reported my involvement with his mission, I’ll eat Batman’s cowl after a bad night.”

“Of course I fucking didn’t,” Clint coughed out. “I would have been laughed right back into jail if I reported a fucking nine year old doing anything but flips on a trampoline.”

Natasha exchanges a look of resigned horror with Drakov. Her own words from the previous morning haunt her: Imagine if Clint couldn’t turn off the assassin like us. So lethal, so graceful, so talented, so obvious. So ripe for HYDRA’s picking, way back in 1996. Imagine if Clint didn’t have Coulson as a handler, who was notorious for going back for his agents no matter what and had the Director of SHIELD’s ear.

Coulson would have believed Clint. Which meant Coulson was not his handler.

Oops. Agent Barton had a tragic accident on a mission. We have to bury an empty casket, her own words echo back at her again.

“Where was your handler.” The words basically fall out of her mouth without permission.

Clint does a double take at her. She doesn’t know what she looks like, but based on the fact that she’s swiftly relieved of everything she might drop, she must look like she’s about to pass out.

“I ditched him,” Clint admits, grabbing her by the shoulders and shoving her into a chair. “Considering I later wound up killing the guy they sent me to protect, I’m okay with that mark on my record. Unfortunate failure is better than intentional sabotage.”

That old Winter Soldier has had his fun, but he’s a little too feisty.

Nightwing quirks a smile at her. It looks rueful. “However bad you think it is, I can guarantee it was worse.”

“Dick,” Clint hisses. Natasha knows it’s his name. It’s said as an insult.

Natasha buries her head in her arms. “How close did you come to being serumed up and brainwashed into doing some shadowy underground totalitarian government’s bidding?”

Nightwing rocks back on his heels. “Actually, you’re right on the money. How did you do that?”

Natasha pops her head up so fast her eyesight can’t compensate. “You. Don’t talk.”

She grabs Clint. “Where the fuck was Coulson, and why didn’t you refuse a handler that would deliberately fail to catch you?”

Clint looks like he’s doing complicated math in his head and he’s losing track of the numbers. “I’m definitely missing something,” he finally says.

“She’s talking about the fact that if the Black Widow was willing to run with a normal human, and have the normal human not be dead weight, then the normal human would be utterly spectacular as a super soldier,” Drakov says levelly.

He’s just. Like. Us. But he’d be better if he was serumed up and had all five senses fully working.

Clint and Nightwing exchange a glance. She knows that glance. That’s a, wow, shit was even more fucked than I originally thought it was glance.

“Oh my god,” she says faintly.

“It’s a long story,” Clint admits. “And not one we really have time for, or, uh. Patience. On the plus side, we killed them, their undead serumed monsters, their bosses, and like ninety-five percent of the underlings, too, so unless they reinvent the wheel--”

“They did,” Nightwing says.

“—we’ll be—I’m sorry, what was that?”

“They did.”

“What?”

“They revived the Court of Owls,” Nightwing says patiently. “And Batman and I took care of them. Again.”

“Oh, well--”

“And so did Robin, again.”

Natasha looks at Drakov despairingly.

Clint opens his mouth and shuts it. He looks at the ceiling and mutters something Natasha doesn’t quite catch, but makes Drakov snort.

Nightwing has a smile on his face that’s a threat. It lingers in the corners of his mouth, around the edges of his domino. It’s a smile that Coulson would be envious of. “Gotham’s a little...much for the Mainlanders. But Clint’s welcome to run with the Bats anytime. Birds of a feather flock together, right? Especially the ones that get stalked to be brainwashed assassins.”

Natasha puts her head back onto the table and gives quiet thanks that even Hydra wasn’t willing to fuck around with Gotham’s brand of crazy.

She pushes back from the table and stands up. “You crazy kids have fun. Drakov, don’t enable them. I’m going for a run.”

“Bye!” Nightwing calls after her. “Don’t forget a rebreather!”

She shakes one as she escapes out the door in response. Get her out of here. Now.

[khaotunq]

qwgeteydg

[blastburnt]

so seeing her again did not hurt in the way i expected but how am i meant to go back to living now. like where is my other half

[lovelyrotter]

Knowing that I might have quiet BPD has given me a lot of answers about why I do certain things to myself. I think I'm having a BPD moment right now. Not at anyone but myself, but that's... y'know, the whole problem. Its at the point where I'm starting to question whether we do actually have NPD or if it's just me attacking myself in a quiet BPD episode. We probably have both though, lets be real. We've been such an incredibly toxic person in our partner system's life historically, I genuinely don't know how they can stand us. I'm thankful they haven't given up, but fucking christ, I would've given up on me a long time ago.

[veliseraptor]

the other really annoying thing about this long, long lull in my ability to write things is that now it has started to become a thing where i can't read other peoples' fanfiction because it just kicks up a whole lot of envy and frustration. which is not a good feeling to experience to begin with and is possibly a worse feeling to experience on the meta level where i get upset at myself about feeling it.

i just want to read all the good fanfiction sitting open in tags without the twin demons of insecurity and envy gnawing on my brain

[that-spider-fan-over-there]

*dusting off this old blog* Well it's been a while, isn't it?

[faethfigueroth]

.

[simmonsized]

What does distilled sea water taste like

aww man you had to ask the most difficult question huh

i feel like, maybe it's not the same for everyone

and maybe it's different if you are not on a boat, or on a boat that is not the boat i was on, but like

to me it

okay to start, the thing with the water, right, is that all our fresh water came from the ocean. like it was not hauled on board, there was no fresh water to start, it is all pulled up and boiled and then that water vapor is put into the tank and used for showers, sinks, toilets, and, obviously, drinking and cooking etc

right so it's just plain H2O, no electrolytes, no fluoride, no whatever the fuck right it's just. water molecules lol

but it's water that came from the ocean right so like

it tastes like water, at first (if u have ever ingested clean river water i would say even that might give u an idea), but there is an aftertaste that's like

the way that standing on a beach in the northern pacific smells. cannot be clearer than that, i'm afraid.

there's like, eau de seaweed but no but yes but no

drinking water when i got back was very strange and i am now hyper aware of how all water tastes (and i was already a picky water drinker so this is a problem lol) and sometimes i miss it. it's weird.