#my feelings are hurt and it's not even targetting me

[toringo]

i’m OBSESSED with your anti tulpar comics, i’ve been rotating them in my mind nonstop for the past few days! how do you think a!curly feels about a!jimmy?

THANK YOU SO MUCH!

You have no idea how happy it makes me to know, that people really enjoy those. I know it's not even my au, but I've been genuinely hyperfixating on it for some time now, and making up my own lore (obviously the creator doesn't mind, they said it's all up to interpretation).

My take on A!Curly's opinion of A!Jimmy and some A!Curly background and hcs:

He thinks Jimmy is weak, pathetic, and simply put a loser. He's annoying, easy to push around, and doesn't put up too much of a fight, which is good, because - hot take - A!Curly is just as much of a pushover as the canon one.

He puts on a mean face and abuses his power to put down the others, to make himself feel better (feel important and in control), but if someone shows that they can snap back he loses the fight quite easily.

He's a people pleaser, the top student with no personal life kind. It's just that he's looking for approval as a 'tough leader' now. You know, the epitome of masculinity with nerves of steel and 0 sensitivity.

People usually need 10 years of experience to become a captain, he got the title in half that time, unlike canon!Curly (If someone asks how it was totally natural and due to his stellar performance! Don't question it too much!)

He doesn't have anything much going on back on Earth, also unlike canon Curly. He distances himself from his family (never truly satisfied with his achievements) and has no close friends. He sees no point in making any now that he spends most of his time in space. Doesn't really believe in love, either.

He didn't pass the psych eval twice in a row and is on Pony Express approved (questionable) antidepressants/mood stabilizers. Still fit to fly!

With all that being said; he considers Jimmy an easy target and abuses him primarily because of that. He can't stand this weakling stumbling around all pathetic and apologetic, while he has to work so hard to keep up his reputation.

It pisses him off that some guy just… doesn't care that others see him like this. Curly would care, it would break him if anyone thought of him like they do of Jimmy! So it's annoying that this janitor doesn't even try.

A perfect excuse to make himself feel bigger, too; it's not like he's a bad guy. This loser needs to learn, after all, that people like him don't survive in a place like this.

It gets worse when he starts realizing, that Jimmy is putting up a front and is actually way more cunning and capable than people think. Makes him feel on edge, paranoid. Like Jimmy is there to make him spiral; like he was sent by his higher-ups to check on him.

Then he finds out Jimmy is actually an emergency pilot (not on any papers Curly had access to). Yeah, he hates his guts.

When they enter their 'relationship' (it's mostly very humiliating hate sex ngl), Curly gets to know him a bit better. He still resents him, even more knowing that Jimmy can be a cold and cruel man under the mask of submissiveness. And even more, when Jimmy shows just how little respect he has for his captain.

But it's… a relief, having someone know how you really are, seeing your 'worst self'. He kind of feels like with every small thing he reveals to Jimmy, he gives up a bit more of control and gives him more ammunition, but well. Bitches be lonely.

So they have this weird thing going on, where Curly abuses Jimmy in front of the crew and during work hours, to unwind and reassure himself about his position and vent the abuse he experiences from HIS higher-ups, and Jimmy abuses him in private (for many, many reasons. Also bc he's sadistic).

They both think that if they hurt the other enough, he will stop hurting them. They're wrong. Although Curly gives up more easily, and Jimmy goes overboard quite a lot (as he has nothing to lose, is an obsessive weirdo, and was keeping his mouth shut about what Curly was doing for so long that at this point all the years of hatred are spilling out. He also has a personal vendetta against Curly, because he admired him and wanted to befriend him before he became a captain (and had any power over him) and Curly just started treating him like trash soon after getting the title).

YEAH sorry I will talk more about it later, sorry for being chaotic - they're just awful and disgusting and need to be put on some kind of meds (Curly's pills don't count)

[heartandbow]

Midnight Blue

BUCKY BARNES X FEM!READER SMUT

summary: Bucky hated you in many different ways, and tonight was no exception. tw; smut, choking, dom!bucky.

Despite Bucky's reputation of being big, bad, and dangerous, there is yet to be a time he ever scared you. Even now, where he was in the very building somewhere to kill you, you knew his only weakness — he couldn't sneak around.

It's not surprising when you think about it. With his death stare and metallic arms, anybody would spot him coming from a mile away. You just have to make sure you're faster than him, which happened to be your specialty. Being a thief for the last few years taught you everything there is to know about blending in with the shadows.

Which was a shame, you thought, because I look nice today.

You did look nice. You were currently in a gala for some valiant cause or other, hosted by some rich businessman you hadn't bothered to catch the name of. You had on your midnight blue gown, embedded with pearls that reflected off the champagne glasses and Rolex watches.

"Excuse me," one of the attendees said, tapping your shoulder. "Are you Miss Malley?"

"No," you smiled broadly, knowing the guy was about to hit on you any second.

"Oh, my mistake." He had a sheepish grin. "I'm Shane. Can I buy you a drink?"

"The drinks are free," you said, grinning right back.

"I know."

"Aren't you busy trying to find Miss Malley?"

"Who?" The smile hadn't worn off.

This particularly uninteresting conversation was cut short by sudden silence at the gala. The foolish sack of a man had diverted your attention just enough that you saw a metallic death stare at the end of the gala — a stare that seemed just for your particular demise.

Don't panic, you thought, staring right back. He wouldn't dare hurt you with this many people present. Even then, he was making his way towards you. You moved away, silent as a ghost.

With each turn of crowd, you realized you might quite possibly be stuck. Bucky had brought in reinforcement ranging from Natasha Romanoff to Captain America, all of them in regal formal attire and in different corners. No one except Bucky had spotted you, possibly because he was the only person who actually had a personal vendetta against you.

Get out, your brain said clearly. Get out before they bring you to Stark. You had enough beef with that man to last for a lifetime.

You grimaced, then looked for the exit. Not the one that the attendees use, no, that would be too easy. You headed for the staff exit, the one behind the kitchen.

---------------

Half an hour later, you were walking through the dark alley, your heels clinking against the pavement. You were exhausted from all the walk, but you were used to this dance by now. Move until the target is off your back. That's how it's always been.

You wondered if you'd ever get tired of the steps.

Someone whistled. You turned to see a man around his late 40s, clearly drunk out of his mind.

"How much for the night, sweetie?"

You squinted. He looked harmless enough. You kept on walking, ignoring his continuous calls behind your back.

"Don't be like that! What, I'm not young enough for you? I thought your kind took money from anyone with a dick!"

You had half a mind to punch him in the face with the hidden knife.

No, walk on. Last thing you need is a corpse on the street.

A second passed, then two. The man's immediate silence ticked off your senses. You turned around to see him on the floor, unconscious. Somehow, it did not look like it was the alcohol that took him out.

You were almost impressed when a knife appeared at your throat from behind.

"You're getting better at sneaking around," you said proudly. "You didn't have to knock him out though. Chap was not laying a hand on me."

"Shut the fuck up." Bucky's raspy voice sent a jolt of adrenaline down your spine. His anger was controlled, but you still could hear it.

"Your wish." You stepped on his shoes. He let out a pang of hurt, not expecting your heels to feel that sharp.

One moment of distraction, that's what cost him. You whipped your gun and faced him, smile on your face.

"How did you find me?" you asked, genuinely curious.

"That hardly matters." He put his hand out, grabbing the gun, or trying to anyways. You stepped out of the way just in time and he grunted.

"You need to loosen up. Like the night we did the Catherbury mission, remember?"

That only seemed to rile him up more. You didn't think he even cared that much about the fact that you were in Avengers a good deal of time before you sneaked into Stark's office, got his card, stole a great deal of gadgets and sold them off the black market. You didn't think he even cared you were the biggest thief in the city, one that fooled even the avengers.

His vendatta against you was personal, because he considered you his friend. The cold, cruel Bucky was duped for the world to see.

"I really think we should sit down and talk," you said, the gun still held high. "Everything I did was business Bucky, stop taking it so personally."

Bucky's face showed just a tinge of hurt, but then he hurled — no weapons, no hesitation. Just full-on punched on you, and your back hit the wall.

"If everything wasn't so fucking personal, shoot me," he practically spat out those words.

You realized you hadn't even thought of using the gun that lay hanging lifeless from your hands. You tried to grip it, but Bucky pushed his hand on top of it, bending the metal seamlessly in a way it was upside down. You let it go and tried to move.

Bucky clapped his hands on the wall on either side of your head. His eyes were smeared with charcoal and he smelt like musky cologne.

"Where's your disappearing act now?" he whispered, making you feel all sorts of things.

"Let me go," you said, gritting your teeth. God, he was standing too close.

He bent his head down and brought his lips near your ears.

"You've no clue how long I wanted to have you like this," he said, making your heart skip a beat. "Unescapable, vulnerable, scared."

"I'm not scared."

"You should be." He put his hand — the non-metallic one — over your throat. His touch was gentle, but the message was clear; he could kill you in a touch.

Though it didn't help that you liked it a little too much.

"How did you find me?" you asked again, calmly.

"Shane is my friend. He put a GPS tracker on you. I knew you'd run so all I had to do was wait."

You were impressed yet again.

"How did Shane find me? I was blending in the crowd well."

Bucky's eyes shone brighter. "You weren't going to blend in with a dress that beautiful," he stopped, removing his hand. It was as if he just realized how close he actually was to you. His eyes slid down to your lips just a second. His hands started lowering from the wall to your waist.

Then his lips were on yours, and you could have sworn he put all his anger into it. One kiss and he was prying your lips open, making out with you in that dark alley with a knocked out man five feet away.

"James," you whined between kisses, pulling him closer. The moans did things to his brain. He slid his hands through the slit of your dress, grabbing your thigh with a force that had you unnerved.

"Can I—"

"Yes."

He closed your mouth with his other hand. "No, listen to me first. I want you to mean it. Completely. Because I don't know the things I'll do to you when you say yes."

In response, you took his hand from your thighs and slid them higher, right into your panties. You pressed your body against his and you could feel him being hard.

"I hate you," he said curtly, then picked you up with effortless strength. Two minutes and you were in a secluded part of the alley, and he was setting you down on an old bench. He bent down, keeping eye contact with you all the while.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, placing a kiss on your neck. You moaned, but didn't move. He dragged your lips from your collarbones to the edge of your neckline, and pulled the dress down.

Without waiting a beat, he took off your bra and kissed your nipples.

"Bucky," you whined, and all he did was bite down harder. He let his hand drag down and pushed two fingers right into your pussy. The pain was immediate and pleasurable. His pace was slow and you started grinding on his fingers for more friction.

"Shush," he said, taking off his fingers and setting you up straight. "Do you want me to fuck you, Y/N?"

"Yes," you said, moving in for a kiss. He turned his head away.

"Beg."

"Fuck me Bucky, please." You moved your hand to his pants, and he looked like he might lose all control. A few seconds of unbuckling and he took you in his arms, pressing you down to the bench and spread your legs wide.

You were wet already, and the sight of his big, hard cock hadn't helped. You were dripping down your panties.

"Beg," he said again, taking off your panties and throwing them away.

"Please fuck me, James, fuck—" you gasped when he thrust his dick in you. A moment of holding onto his hand and he was fucking you like you were his. He leaned over and bit down on your neck. A kiss and a few sucking and you knew that was going to leave a mark.

You didn't care. You were being dicked out of your soul and you were taking every second of it.

Then it stopped. He pulled away from you, his dick still hard. You were confused to see that big smile on his face, even more so when he started zipping his pants.

"You left me three months ago," he said, straightening his hair. He leaned down to kiss your forehead. "Next time you think of me, I want you to think of me fucking you like you're my bitch. How having my hands on your throat was enough to make you wet."

Revenge. That's what it was?

"You wanted to fuck me to make me regret lying to you?" you asked breathlessly, feeling ashamed that it already worked.

Bucky smiled. "I wanted to fuck you for a whole lot reasons Y/N, but I also want you to knock on my door and apologize, preferably on your knees and begging. On all fours. I'd sacrifice the rest of the night to see that."

He pulled you up and put the dress on tidily. "Goodbye. And, you really do look beautiful."

Motherfucker, you thought to yourself as he left.

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commissions info

kofi

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[mercy-burning]

We’re Really Gone

Mercy’s Ficmas 2024 | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: You wake up New Year's morning next to your boyfriend, realizing that once you leave, you'll be gone for good. Based on the song "gone" by VÉRITÉ. Category: Angst Content: breakup, crying, no explicit smut but it's heavily implied. Word Count: 1.3k

If you know me at all then you know that VÉRITÉ is easily my favorite artist at the moment. She has been for a while. This song came up on shuffle on my way home from Target on Black Friday, and between the gray snowy skies and the empty road I was on, immediately I had a vision and a feeling, and the closing chapter to Ficmas was here, in a messy, mournful little bow (even if it's one of the first ones you're getting...just work with me here LMAO) . I hope you've enjoyed your holiday! I love and appreciate you more than you know <3 Happy New Year!

-------------

It's not a surprise that the bedroom is dark when I open my eyes. I don't want to open them, but once I realize that he's still beside me, probably asleep, I know it's safe.

Still, it doesn't ease the dread I feel deep in my gut as my vision adjusts to the dark. Blue hues fizzle in around me as Spencer's shape starts to define, his features slowly fading into view. I'm surprised that he's facing me, to tell you the truth. At some point during the night, I would have imagined he'd finalize our end with the metaphoric turning of the back. In some twisted way, it might have been easier to get through this morning that way— not having to face him. But nothing in my life has ever been easy, so why should this be any different?

I don't want to lose him, anyway. I will, that much is certain, but if I can prolong it by committing his peaceful, resting features to memory as the last worry-free moment we share, then maybe it won't hurt as much in the end.

Please don't let that be wishful thinking, I plead in my head, over and over like a prayer. It's hard to imagine what I might find in his eyes when he finally wakes up, though it also occurs to me that he might wake up and refuse to look at me, pretending to sleep until I give up and just leave. Perhaps this is just as hard on him as it is on me...

A quick flashback of the blank look on his face as I came undone underneath him the night before, his name a hushed and desperate longing for redemption on my lips, makes my blood run cold; He didn't even enjoy himself. Last night was merely a formality to him, a parting of ways to leave me satisfied one last time. Whether or not he knows if it worked, I'm positive now—as I regain my memories of the last couple of hours— that he doesn't care. I remember now feeling it in every touch. Where he once was so careful and meticulous, last night he was lifeless. Not necessarily rough and unforgiving, but... indifferent. Talented and mission-oriented still, but that's all it had been— A task.

Still, as I watch him sleep soundly, I pretend that there had been some residual love resting there in our atmosphere amongst the indifference. It's the only way to keep me from bolting in shame.

At least, for now, I have this peace. This quiet and calm. In sleep, Spencer isn't indifferent. In sleep, he is here, with me. He is warm and present and not yet haunting. Here, in sleep, he is mine.

I resist the urge to reach out for him like I always have. I don't want to wake him and risk losing his warmth, though I long to feel it in full force, even if for a second or two. I try to recall his hands on my skin, hot and electric even in emotional stasis, and tears prick the back of my eyelids.

He shouldn't see me like this. I should leave. But I can't. I'm too selfish.

I suppose that's always been the problem.

Our last big fight before last night's events had been unresolved. I let him go to bed angry, too stubborn to apologize, and for days we just... fizzled. At first it wasn't cause for concern; unfortunately it had become routine for us after an argument to just ignore each other for a while until we became too restless, settling for a resolution through tongues and limbs and sheets. Sometimes a hot shower. But our cold shoulders only lasted a day before then.

This time it was three.

Part of me wonders if he wanted to hold on until the end of the year. It wouldn't surprise me. As much of a romantic as he is, I wouldn't put it past Spencer to have made this some sort of symbolic "final act" before purging himself of me entirely, leaving me behind in his past and using the New Year to look forward.

Part of me also wonders, though, if maybe I'm just that cynical.

He stirs beside me then, nearly startling me. My heart leaps out of my chest and catches in my throat. I'm forced to hold my breath, and I can't bring myself to close my eyes.

This is it. It's happening.

Spencer's eyes are warm and soft for a brief moment in time as he registers the face in front of him. My features seem to take a moment to fade into clear view, because once they do, that warmth is simply gone.

I almost start to cry. My breath hitches.

"You didn't leave yet," he says. A curious observation.

"I will... But I don't want to... Not yet."

I want to hold on just a little longer, I tell him with my eyes.

He blinks slowly and somberly. I understand.

When my knuckles brush his, he merely holds still, not reciprocating my search for cold comfort. He's already gone, yet he allows me to stay. He doesn't even look at me like he pities me. He just looks tired, which breaks my heart considering we'd just slept for hours.

I'd done that to him.

Hot pressure forms behind my eyes, and with a harsh blink, the floodgates open.

Tears fall silently down my face as I squeeze Spencer's hand. He lays there and watches me cry, and I feel miserable. I should have just left.

But I didn't.

I should have fought for him, but I didn't. I should have admitted that I was stubborn and wrong and sorry, but I didn't. Slowly but surely, I was getting spoiled thinking we could cure every problem with a kiss. I took advantage of his forgiveness one too many times, and now I'm paying the price as he watches me.

Eventually, I tire, too. My face is hot and my hand is sore from gripping his so harshly. The room has brightened a little more, but it's still quite purple and hazy. It's probably not even 6AM yet. The sun is rising, and yet I feel like I'm being drained of all my life force.

But then, after a few beats of solemn silence between us, I can finally speak.

I whisper it, afraid I might hurt him otherwise. In every other aspect of our relationship, I've been loud. My loving him was aggressive and possessive, my opinions brash and my expectations bold.

After all of that intensity, he deserves a little sweetness.

"Okay."

The word dismisses him— dismisses us. It built a lot of courage for me to muster it, but it had to be done.

Spencer doesn't say a word as he peels the covers away from his body and rolls over, breaking the spell, and my heart, in the process.

As he pads off to the bathroom and takes his warmth with him, I let go of a long, unsteady breath and follow suit, feeling soreness in every limb as I dress.

My legs shuffle heavily towards the door, miscellaneous belongings in hand, and that's when I hear the bathroom door open.

I know I should turn around and say it to his face, but... once a coward, always a coward, I suppose.

Still, for all the weakness and dread that overwhelms my bones, I tell him over my shoulder with sincere strength, "I'm sorry, Spencer."

I'm not even sure he'll respond. But he doesn't have to. He deserves to hear it from me at least once before we part. Not that it will do much, but I feel guilty all the same.

My hand twists the doorknob, and just as I'm about to close the door behind me, I barely hear his voice, warm and gentle as ever.

"I'm sorry, too."

----------------

Love I should've warned you I'm a stick of dynamite Threat of explosion Constantly strapped to your side

'Cause I'm afraid of losing Everything I'm ruining There's no getting used to The quiet you're leaving Is louder than screaming

So leave the clothes and mess we made up all on the floor 'Cause when we put them on we're not in love anymore 'Cause I know when we go, we're really gone

--VÉRITÉ, Gone

[roryacker]

I love hybrid AUs. I dunno what it is, my current theory is it's just a weird autism trait, I won't get into that for now, but I just really like the idea of taking humans and giving them animal traits and instincts. I have. SO many headcanons lemme tell you.

I like to think of hybrids as a good mix of animalistic and human in behavior, most of the appeal for me is the behavior so I mean. That's a given.

so here's a bunch of my ideas for a Hybrid AU :) I'll probably utilize this for writing about them later on

• I like to think of Soap as a rough collie hybrid. Fluffy, herding dog, Scottish, and I feel like their fur lends well to his lil mohawk thing he's got goin on.

• Absolute menace. 100% he herds anyone and everyone he can get his hands on, primarily prey hybrids. Gaz is one of his most common herding targets, he tries to herd Ghost sometimes but usually gets nipped at for it, and Price is exempt from such instincts.

• Gaz is a deer hybrid, I think he'd look cool with antlers, specifically a red deer. Bucks are strong, man. He just gives me ungulate vibes most of the time idk what it is.

• He usually tolerates Soap's herding. :)

• Price could be lots of things. I've found that I'm actually quite fond of him just being a normal dude who sees the value in hybrids (and treating them like people) so I'll probably go with that. Otherwise I suppose another dog or something could work. Rotts are big and angry but also have a very unintimidating smile so maybe them? They're super good working dogs so. Still I'll mostly stick with the human idea.

• Ghost always depends on what I'm looking for really. Sometimes Wolf if I want the wild vibe, sometimes Dog because he just reminds me of a grumpy working dog. Definitely a GSD hybrid. I do prefer writing him as a dog hybrid anyways so I'll stick with that.

• Shepherds are technically a herding breed, but Ghost lacks any herding instincts and finds Soap's irritating. Best-case they're useful for gathering up the team in a mission to prevent unnecessary separation, though, and it's amusing to watch him weave around folks barking and snapping his teeth at people to get them to stay in line. Sometimes Ghost tolerates it, and sometimes he nips at him to get him to stop.

• I feel like outside of combat Ghost and Soap have a habit of wrestling. Like how real dogs tend to, yknow. You leave them alone for one second and suddenly someone's arm is in someone else's mouth, there's growling, it looks like they're fighting, and the only thing saying otherwise is the wagging tails and the lack of any blood or fur anywhere. It's how they bond

• Price definitely made an effort to not get any hunting hybrids because he'd rather not have infighting thanks to Gaz looking huntable, thank you. It's not even worry that Gaz would get hurt given the fact bucks pack such a punch, he just doesn't want to deal with all that tension.

• Feral, Domestic, Tame, and Wild all mean different things. A Domestic hybrid can be Feral and a Wild hybrid can be Tame, etc. It's mostly rooted in real-life terms, think feral housecats.

• Feral refers to temperament and handleability, it's a term that can change over time based on treatment. Tame is the same but flipped; so a Feral hybrid is harder to handle and acts more like their animal counterpart due to a lack of (positive) human contact, while Tame hybrids seem more intelligent in comparison just due to being easier to handle and better at communicating. Neither are fully unable to communicate by default, but personal traits can mean either are, if that makes any sense.

• Wild vs. Domestic is entirely about the species; a wolf or lion hybrid is wild, while a dog or housecat hybrid is domestic. This one's as simple as finding out if the species they're considered a hybrid of is domesticated or not. If they are, Domestic, if not, Wild. This term cannot change over time, but like their real-animal counterparts, Wild hybrids can be domesticated over time via selective breeding (it won't do much, but it is possible) and Domestic hybrids can slowly regain Wild traits only if multiple generations are exposed to conditions where they need it. So, selective breeding, but backwards. This practice is heavily discouraged as it just leads to unnecessary confusion and hybrid breeding is considered pretty cruel.

• "Hybrids" are not a literal hybrid of human and animal, because that's just kind of weird, but humans with a mutation that closely resembles certain animals. This phenomenon has only been properly recorded as of late, maybe a couple centuries, but there are implications that it might have existed earlier in history and just been ignored, seen as taboo, etc etc.

• There's a few different rules to which hybrids get what treatment. It's not uncommon for any and all hybrids to have a handler, and one handler can be in control of multiple hybrids, but they're not required to live together, and it's more like an emergency contact/trainer/guardian than an owner or something of the sort.

• It is, however, different for Wild and Feral hybrids. Tame Domestic hybrids are not required to have a handler, but Feral Domestic hybrids are at least supposed to have a trainer or therapist or something of the sort. With Wild hybrids it depends on the specific species, smaller Wilds are usually fine, especially if they seem harmless, herbivores tend to be exempt due to stereotypes, and most omnivores are fine, but medium-large carnivores and all Feral hybrids are required to have a handler and in some places required to live with them and be accompanied by them to most places. Wild carnivore hybrids are usually considered more dangerous, also due to stereotypes.

• Again, in certain places, Wild carnivores are expected to wear a muzzle and be properly handled (physical restraint in the form of a leash or the handler just being close enough and able to handle them), but this is mostly a private property/commercial spaces thing that depends on the exact place. Think like how a Petco or something (ew) might let you bring in your little dog or something, maybe a cat, but probably won't let you bring in a big rottweiler or something of the sort, depending on the location. Or how in some locations specific stores will let you bring in a pet as long as they're handled well, but others only allow in service dogs.

• This is very intentionally inhumane, as given how the real world functions I feel like yes we would base how we treat folks with carnivore-oriented traits on how we personify those animals in our minds. Going further I also imagine some places are permitted to bar certain species entirely, and species that are viewed as "unappealing" and violent (hyenas, coyotes and maybe jackals, probably foxes and raccoons in some areas, etc etc) tend to show up on this list a lot.

• Probably lots of folks advocating against this, but it sticks around like a tick because plenty of people are just little cowards about it and don't want the change. I imagine most herbivore hybrids are also against it because what's stopping them from being mistreated in the same way next, so it's mostly a non-hybrid thing.

• How much someone resembles their real-animal counterpart depends on content! This is a term seen in some real-world hybrids, most often I see it in wolfdogs as they're very easily hybridized and their offspring can breed. However, rather than being based on that, because again they're not actually hybrids it's more of a form of mimicry, it's based on the genetics deciding how much of their species they look and act like. I like to think there's a specific set of genes that causes this, and 1-2 traits that factor into how the traits look and how the behavior and instincts develop. Someone who's relatively low-content doesn't look much like the species if at all, and doesn't act much like them, while someone who's high-content will have a lot of the animal's traits and are more likely to fall into that Feral state due to how their brain is built. It isn't set in stone, but more of a big scale.

• Most of TF141 are pretty in the middle of that scale. Ghost is the highest content, Soap isn't far behind, and Gaz is about in the middle, maybe a bit below.

• Nikolai could be a human and I like the idea of normal guy Nikolai BUT he's russian, and to that I suggest: Russian Wolfhound, aka the Borzoi, because I love Borzois they're the best. And greyhounds but Borzoi is a Russian breed :) their fur reminds me a bit of his hair as well

• I just. Really like Borzois, man. I was SO excited when they started gaining popularity a while back, I know it was because of a silly joke but screw it man!! They got more love!!! Smooch smooch Borzois my beloved. They're a sighthound breed as well, and honestly, I feel like that just fits him somehow.

I have tons more but I'll leave it here because I got stuff to do, rambling over take my funky animalfolk and go

[geekgirles]

Have you ever noticed how Double Cross My Heart, aside from the obvious similarities with Flirting with Disaster, also parallels Parental Bonding somewhat?

The first connection is fairly easy to make. After all, the episode was specifically designed to mirror Flirting with Disaster and Danny's budding relationship with Valerie while Sam stewed in jealousy from the sidelines.

An episode like that is a staple of romance subplots, and arguably a needed one. After all, the Green-Eyed Epiphany, that trope where someone realises their feelings for somebody else because of jealousy, is a classic for a reason, mainly because it works so well.

Double Cross My Heart, despite its flaws, is a classic role reversal where Sam finally got to experience what it was like to have a mutual crush on someone outside of her best friend, and the complications that come with it, while Danny got a taste of what it's like to fear losing your best friend, someone you subconsciously assumed would always be there for you, to somebody else. The fear of watching them close that door and move on from you while all you can do about it is seethe in jealousy because you don't dare admit your feelings out of fear of that ruining everything still.

Again, the similarities with Flirting with Disaster are crystal clear: the new love interest, the jealousy, the suspicious thing going on prompting one of them to spy on the other, the new ship sinking before it could even sail...

However, I think we're sleeping on the fact that it still shares a few parallels with Parental Bonding and Danny's other love interest: Paulina.

Specifically, I'm referring to this exchange from Danny and Sam's argument after he revealed he'd been spying on her and "Gregor".

Danny: Not you! I was spying on Gregor! He's so obviously working with the guys in white! Sam: Oh, so that's it! The only way a boy could like me is if it was a part of a plot to get to you? Huh? Ego much?

Sam wasn't just mad because Danny went behind her back to spy on her date, she was especially hurt because Danny accidentally implied nobody could ever like her for her and would have to have some sort of ulterior motive to show interest instead.

Now, why does that sound so familiar?

Ah, right. Because that's precisely what happened to Danny with Paulina in Parental Bonding. The irony being that he never even found out about it, since it's implied Sam kept it a secret to spare his feelings.

Sam: Hey, Paulina. Nice dress. Paulina: (Turns to her.) Yes, and it goes so nicely with your amulet, don't you think? Sam: My amulet? That's not my-- (Realization of Danny's plan hits her.) Right! Listen...my grandma gave me that amulet, and-- Paulina: Forget it, sweetie. I'm not giving up this trinket or your little boyfriend Danny. Sam: My boyfriend? Ha ha! And they say pretty girls can't be funny. Danny is not my boyfriend. Paulina: He's not? Sam: He's my best friend. Maybe that's why I was so hard on you. I didn't mean to call you shallow. Paulina: What a bummer! I only agreed to go out with him because I thought I was stealing him from you. (Putting amulet around Sam's neck.) Here, take your crummy amulet. (Walking away.) I'm going back inside to dump your dorky friend.

For all of the focus Danny (understandably) receives by virtue of being the protagonist and, hence, most people's target, the reason he ever got a "chance" with Paulina before she fell for the Ghost Boy was precisely because she was using him to get back at Sam for calling her shallow. Nothing more, nothing less.

In other words, he himself was a victim of what he was accusing Gregor of, and he doesn't even realise it!

And while Gregor was significantly nicer to Danny and Tucker (before he blew up at the latter and with it his cover) than Paulina or even Valerie ever were (Valerie has her moments, but since her arc ended up being tied most closely to Danny's, her interactions with Sam and Tucker were far and in between and not always friendly on either side), Danny ended up being right about him. Partly.

Because he indeed was a fake, only he was "just" pretending to have more things in common with Sam than he really did (and the whole false identity thing, which is kind of inexcusable, let's be honest), instead of working for the Guys in White to get to him. And that was that. Gregor was really Elliot and Sam was done with him the moment he was done with Tucker. Because her friends come first.

I suppose this all comes to show that Gregor/Elliot wasn't just a parallel to Valerie for the sake of a mirror episode and a new love triangle. He ended up being a perfect amalgamation of both of Danny's love interests outside of Sam. He genuinely liked Sam (like Valerie with Danny), but he was still being dishonest about it (like Paulina).

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for really, REALLY wanting to make my enemies pay?

Several months ago, I (9F) encountered a very powerful, very mean spirited being (??? M). This horrible person had teamed up with this stupid, bald jerk who kidnapped me. (Adult M? I think? My guardian angel saw into his dreams and said he might have some unaddressed gender feelings to unpack, but that’s besides the point.) The powerful, mean spirited being, who I’ll refer to as L, was granting all of the stupid bald jerk’s wishes, and when my family came to rescue me, one of these wishes did something scary to my dad (30s, bigender). It made it so I couldn’t see or pay attention to him, and it really freaked me out.

I know I shouldn’t have acted rashly, but I panicked. I wished for L to undo what he did to my dad, and L did… which all sounds good, except. Um. He said he was going to come to collect a debt from me in the future, and I knew when he did, it would be really scary. My family has history with wish granting beings, and in the past, one of them REALLY messed my mom’s side of the family up. It forced my granddad to forget her, and eventually killed him entirely. It was awful!

So I was really, really scared. And so was my family. My mom (30s, F) especially. And because she loved me, she…- she made a wish, too. She wished to take on whatever burdens I beared— to be the one to pay the debt to L instead.

…And she did. He took the most terrible thing possible from her. He took away her memories of me, knowing that was what would hurt my family most. Deliberately, he did the same thing to Mom that had been done to her father before her, and turned me into a stranger.

Things weren’t… all bad. She believed me, at least, when I told her I was her daughter and that she’d lost her memories and it was all my fault. I think it’s because Dad was there to back up my story. Things became… different after that, though. I mean, how couldn’t they? My mom didn’t know me anymore. She didn’t love me.

L continued to wreak havoc amongst our friend group, who live in a weird, giant, magical, inter dimensional mansion (long story). He made someone else forget his mom. He killed a person—someone very beloved— just out of spite. He turned a third victin into some sort of horrible, body-stealing monster, and, of course, he continued to target me. He mocked me repeatedly for what happened, agreeing that it was my fault, and even tried to pit my mom against me, telling her that I didn’t love her anymore because of what happened, and that she was a failure of a parent, just like her dad. He was more cruel than I could possibly put into words.

So, eventually, we decided L needed to be stopped. Me, and several other people living in the mansion, including my family, teamed up to kill him. The fight… didn’t exactly go well, though. At one point, I was pulled into his machinery, and I well and truly thought I was going to die. But my dad— my hero— used magic he has to briefly control L’s body, pulling me from danger.

…L turned this against him, though. Just as soon, my dad lost control of L, and L took control of him. L already had several ‘puppets—‘ beings he’d taken over entirely, and he turned my dad into one of them. Nothing more than an empty, mindless weapon.

Eventually, the fight ended and L was killed. My mom got her memories back and my dad was freed from L’s control. But after that, dad was… different. He saw something really, really bad when he and L’s minds were one. An empty, vast abyss. A prison L spent years in. It became my dad’s prison, too, and although he’d only been under L’s control for a brief period of time, for him, it felt like years.

He was traumatized. He turned anxious and panicked. He couldn’t stay still anymore, and always felt bored and unsatisfied. Under-stimulated constantly.

And then, just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, D arrived.

…I’m going to need to do some explaining for this to make any sense.

In short, where I come from, there’s a ‘mirror world—‘ a world filled with twisted, alternate versions of the people from my world. Not all mirror worlders are bad, of course— I like my counterpart, and the reflection of the first wish-granting being— the one who messed my granddad up all those years ago— is actually a really nice guy. But there’s one thing really, really, REALLY terrible about the mirror world.

As long as a mirror worlder’s real counterpart is alive, they can’t die,

So even if a mirror worlder is an awful, awful person, nothing can be done to get rid of them most of the time. They’ll just come back.

That wasn’t supposed to be an issue with L. The beloved person who I mentioned him killing earlier? That was his counterpart, N. But after N was killed, his girlfriend dragged his soul back from the abyss, albeit… different.

Apparently, beings like L and N weren’t always wish-granting, mechanical beings. They were people before they were remade and trapped in cybernetic prisons. As wish-granting machines, they had no memories of their past lives. But when N’s girlfriend brought him back, she brought him back as a flesh-and-blood creature. Who he was before he was turned into a tool, memories and all. I’ll refer to this version of him as NK

Which is where D comes in. D is NK’s counterpart, as opposed to L being N’s. He’s the reflection of who NK was all those years ago, and when NK was brought back, he returned, too. But he still had L’s memories, and the same personality, too. I mean… he was apologetic, suddenly, but he was still a complete jerk!

I’m sorry if that’s all a bit confusing. To simplify: L was back. He had a new name and a new face, but that was still the person who tried to tear my family apart, and who put my dad through something so terrible.

In fact, when he saw how bad my dad was doing, he told him that if he didn’t get his act together, he was going to end up like L and start torturing people for fun just to try and feel something! How terrible is that!? After that, my dad started having really bad intrusive thoughts. He’d have dreams about hurting me or my mom, and just wake up screaming. All because D told him something that wasn’t true. We had to hospitalize Dad, eventually, because we were genuinely afraid he’d hurt himself over what L did.

D refused to accept accountability, though. Like I said, he apologized, but only to try and escape the consequences of his actions! He was just going through the obligatory song and dance! He wasn’t trying to fix any of the mess he made. Heck, he could hardly even accept he was the same as L! He couldn’t bear the guilt or whatever!

…And because of this, something weird happened to his mind.

He needed a scapegoat. Someone to blame. A trauma holder. So he made a new version of L— one that ate up all of his pain. And this new L, of course, immediately started causing trouble. He gave dozens of people in the mansion awful nightmares. Bloody nightmares. Nightmares preying on their worst fears and trauma. He even threatened to try and break my mom’s brain, too!

Eventually, he was stopped, primarily thanks to another very powerful being— a dream demon, specifically, who I’ll call NB. NB’s intensions weren’t to protect the rest of us, though. Contrarily, he stopped the new L because he’d FALLEN IN LOVE WITH HIM AND D, AND WAS SCARED HE WAS GOING TO HURT D WITH WHAT HE WAS DOING! BECAUSE IT WAS D WHO NEEDED TO BE PROTECTED, APPARENTLY?

Whatever, though. At least the problem was resolved.

…For now.

Since then, D and L haven’t caused any trouble. They’ve mostly kept to themselves. But I just know they have to be planning something… and no-one else around me seems to be worried about that!? Heck, some of them are becoming FRIENDLY with D and L when they show up in the mansion group chat. It’s like they’re already forgetting what D and L did to me! To my family! And to them, too!

I want to make it so D and L can’t hurt anyone anymore. Them being around terrifies me. I hate how they’re winning over my friends. E- even if they’re really not planning anything, now, I can’t stand them. They make me feel unsafe. They make me feel angry. They seem so happy! They’re dating NB now, and seem to be at peace! While my family is still trying to pick up the pieces after what they did!

That’s not fair. They don’t deserve to be happy. I want D and L to feel sad. Scared. Every bit as bad as I did. NB, too. Stupid, ignorant enabler! I want them to suffer. I want them to cry. If I could, I’d put D and L back in that stupid prison of theirs… the ‘nothingness’ that they showed Dad to traumatize him,

But apparently, I’M the one who’s causing issues! I’m being vindictive! I’m being vicious! I should just let sleeping dogs lie and let L and D be. But why!? THEY started it! They went after me when I hadn’t done anything to them! I DESERVE to punch back! THEY deserve to suffer! A- and anyone who doesn’t agree must have never cared about me or my family.

…AITA? For wanting to put them through want they put me and so many others through, even if that means rocking the boat?

[silvertongueddevil]

Thank You, 2024.

alright. as this year comes to close, I have a few things to say. this entire thing will be sappy, btw.

thank you. thank every single one of you. from following me on here, X, Twitch. for continually supporting me through dry-spells (no posting periods), rough emotional times or even sending in ideas and suggestions for content. for checking in on me when I haven’t posted in a while or I say i’m going through a tough time.

I started this blog because people in my daily life would comment on my voice. “you have a narrator voice”, “you should read audiobooks”, even a cis, straight man I met through my coworkers listening to me on a $20 Target Turtle Beach gaming headset and running a PS4, “bro, don’t take this the wrong way, but…you should be a streamer. you have a great voice.”

we didn’t quite make it to 2,000 followers in time (but it’s okay because I’m literally only 40 away from it) but almost 2,000 people around the world seem to agree, and I could not be more grateful.

I don’t mean to sound like I think I’m “famous” or anything like that, but I love all of my followers. you all make me feel so much better about myself. you give me confidence and ideas on how to better myself- and out of the goodness of your own hearts. you take time out of your day, no matter where you are in the world, to message me, to send me an Ask, to comment or reblog. I don’t deserve your support and love. it means more than you could ever know. more than I could ever put into words.

2024 was…interesting. starting out the year with about 200 followers, and literally multiplying that by ten is crazy.

for those that don’t know- I had my heart destroyed by a tumblr mutual that I had met and hooked up with a few times- with feelings I still struggle with. regardless of how I feel, or felt about it, I try to make every experience something I can learn from. I don’t hurt like I used to anymore, and I’ve accepted the events that transpired. it still sucks but for whatever reason, whatever happened was meant to happen. it was meant to happen exactly how it happened.

since then, I’ve felt the need to… pull back from really getting too close to anybody on here. not that it has anything to do with anybody that follows me, but because of me. I know exactly how strongly and deeply I can feel and care. that being said: there is nobody, out of the 1,950~ of you, that I don’t like talking to. sometimes, if I don’t reply, it’s possible I’m busy at work (which is where I spend most of my time, sadly), or busy with my own life. but my lack of response is never anything to do with any of you, I promise.

I have absolutely zero plans to stop posting, to stop creating content for you guys, to talk and reach out and engage and just get to know everyone. the best of me has yet to come (no pun intended) and I hope to have all of you by my side, the way you have been.

I love all of you. thank you for everything you’ve done for me. said to me. sent to me. following me. shared for me. whatever it is- thank you. I hope everyone has a fortunate and exciting 2025 that only serves to drive you forward. thank you for being you, and I hope to get more of you in the years to come.

signed,

your silver tongued devil.

[godlynott]

HOLD ME, CONSOLE ME. – THEODORE NOTT

NOTES: This is inspired on my fic! 'Every breath you take'. y'all can go read it💟 also my first language is NOT english so sorry if i have any errors. HAPPY NEW YEAR !! (this is also my first time writing something short like this sorry if its bad😭)

——————

Rory sat curled up in the far corner of the Slytherin common room, her knees drawn to her chest. The green glow from the lake outside cast ghostly patterns across her face, and she stared blankly at the floor, replaying the argument with Cedric over and over in her mind. She could still hear his voice, laced with disappointment, and feel the sting of his words. She hated that she cared so much.

Theo entered the room quietly, his hands shoved in his pockets. He wasn’t one to go looking for trouble—or for Rory, for that matter—but he’d noticed her absence during dinner and figured something was off. Their dynamic was always complicated, teetering somewhere between grudging tolerance and outright rivalry. Still, something about her silence tonight nagged at him.

“Rory,” he said, leaning against the armrest of the couch near her. His voice was casual, almost indifferent, but his eyes held a flicker of concern. “What’s with the storm cloud over your head? Did Cedric finally trip over his own perfection and blame you for it?”

Rory didn’t laugh. She didn’t even snap back at him, which immediately set off alarm bells. Instead, she gave a hollow shrug. “Not in the mood, Theo.”

“Not in the mood?” he echoed, dropping into the chair beside her. “That’s new. Usually, you’d bite my head off by now.”

She glared at him weakly, but the fire in her eyes was dim. “Why are you here?”

“Because you look like you’re about to punch the wall or cry—possibly both—and I’d rather not have to explain why the common room’s a mess."

Her lips twitched, almost smiling, but it faded just as quickly. She sighed. “Cedric it’s over, Theo. We both saw him cheating on me. Also sent me a text saying im "Too slytherin'.” The word came out bitter, heavy with frustration and hurt.

Theo scoffed. “Too Slytherin? What does that even mean? Ambitious? Clever? Better at chess than him?”

“He thinks I manipulate people,” she muttered. “That I don’t care about anyone but myself.”

Theo frowned, his usually sharp features softening slightly. “That’s crap, Rory. Anyone who actually knows you would never say that. Cedric’s just—what’s the word? Ah, right. An idiot.”

Before Rory could respond, the door to the common room swung open, and Daphne Greengrass strutted in, her icy demeanor filling the room. Her gaze immediately locked on the two of them, and her lips curled into a smug smile.

“Well, well,” Daphne drawled, sauntering closer. “Isn’t this a cozy little scene? Rory, drowning your sorrows with Theo? How romantic. Or are you plotting your next scheme?”

Rory’s jaw tightened, and she stood, anger flashing across her face. “Not now, Daphne.”

“Oh, but now’s perfect,” Daphne retorted, stepping closer. “I just think it’s funny, really. Cedric finally saw through your act, and here you are, looking for your next target. How very predictable.”

Rory’s hands clenched into fists, but Theo stood before she could get a word out, placing himself between the two girls. “Back off, Daphne,” he said, his tone low and dangerous. “You’re not helping.”

Daphne arched an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “Oh, how noble of you, Theo. Defending Rory, of all people. Since when do you care what happens to her?”

Theo glanced back at Rory, whose face was a mix of anger and hurt, before turning back to Daphne. “I don’t. But I care about not listening to your nonsense. Go pick a fight with someone who actually deserves it.”

Daphne’s smile faltered, her eyes narrowing. “I don’t take orders from you.”

“No,” Theo said sharply, stepping closer, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “But if you want to stay here, you’ll keep your mouth shut. Or do I need to remind you that I can outthink you in every way that matters?”

For a moment, Daphne looked ready to lash out, but the steely determination in Theo’s gaze seemed to cow her. With a huff, she turned and swept out of the room, her robes billowing dramatically behind her.

As the door slammed shut, Rory sank back onto the couch, rubbing her temples. “Great. Now she’ll probably tell the whole house I’m crying over Cedric.”

Theo sat beside her again, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “Let her. Half the house hates her anyway. Besides, it’s not like we’re friends or anything. I just couldn’t stand listening to her whine.”

Rory let out a bitter laugh. “Enemies or not, that was surprisingly decent of you.”

Theo shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “Don’t get used to it.”

But there was something in his tone—something softer, hidden beneath the sarcasm—that made Rory glance at him a little longer than usual. For the first time all day, she felt like the weight of Cedric’s words didn’t matter quite as much.

[harukamitsuki]

Character: *speaks in a different language* Oh, whoops, sorry! It's hard to switch back sometimes!

Me: Ew, no, stop that. That's not how that works

-

Bi/Multilingual characters consciously switch between languages, unless they've been afflicted mentally, such as being delirious or running on a dangerously high fever. Please, if you're including a bi/multilingual character and want to intergrate that naturally into your story, just do a bit of research.

Reddit gives a lot of advice, as well as tumblr and maybe TikTok if you find the right side of it.

Bi/multilingual characters are only really likely to switch languages mid-sentence if there's a specific word that doesn't translate exactly to the general language. Even then, it's not likely that they'll instantly switch.

They may also switch languages for specific idioms or phrases that aren't common in the general language or just don't translate well at all.

Troubles with language: if they forget a word in the general language, they're likely to just go 'that thing' or try to describe it until someone else finds the word for them. Sometimes, they'll know the word in another language but not the general one. In most cases, if they can't remember the word in the moment, they'll remember it later and slap themselves in the face.

The more languages a character speaks, the more likely they are to forget words. Also, it's incredibly hard to become fluent in a language unless you interact with others speaking the same language. Colloquisms and such are hard to pick up on unless speaking and interacting with natives or that specific culture.

Some letters/characters are incredibly hard to pronounce properly unless you've been corrected on them multiple times and actually taught them by natives, though they most likely don't care about butchered pronounciation, unless it's a specific dialect. In that case, some might find it insulting.

I'm not bilingual or multilingual, so if you want proper advice, go to those reddit pages or tumblr posts that are actually written by people who are. Still, all this advice I've given is from my own research for my fanfics.

Seeing authors abuse google translate and go, 'yay, representation!', is very frustrating, especially because it relies on stererotypes and thus diminishes the representation. It happens more often than not, and that's really sad because you can make bilingual/multilingual troubles so funny.

Forgetting a word so you just shrug and start a new conversation because it's easier than trying to figure out what the word is. Swearing in another language so children don't pick it up, only for them to also speak that language. Speaking in a different language just to annoy everyone else who doesn't understand.

There's a lot of potential for comedy with this, but not when it's 'oops, it's hard to switch back/I get confused sometimes.' And, no. They do not switch when excited. It's a conscious decision, unless they're really, really out of it.

[stil-lindigo]

lead balloon (the tumblr post that saved me)

if this comic resonated with you, it would mean the world to me if you donated to this palestinian family's escape fund.

--

no creative notes because this isn't that kind of comic.

I know I don’t owe any of you anything but I still felt compelled to write about my long term absence. And I feel far enough away from the dangerous spot I was in to be able to make this comic. I have a therapist now, and she agreed that making this could be a very cathartic gesture, and the start of properly leaving these thoughts behind me. I am still, at seemingly random times, blindsided by fleeting desires to kill myself. They’re always passing urges, but it’s disarming, and uncomfortable. I worry sometimes that my brain’s spent so long thinking only about suicide that it’s forgotten how to think about anything else. Like, now that I've opened that door for myself, I'll never be able to fully shut it again. But I’m trying my best to encourage my mind in other directions. We'll see how that goes.

I am still donating all proceeds from my store to Palestinian causes. So far, I've donated over $15K, not including donations coming from my own pocket or the fundraising streams which jointly raised around $10K. In the time since I made my initial post about where this money would be going, the focus has shifted from aid organisations to directly donating to escape funds.

If you'd like to do the same, you can look at Operation Olive Branch, which hosts hundreds of Palestinian escape funds or donate to Safebow, which has helped facilitate the safe crossing and securing of important medical procedures for over 150 at-risk palestinians since the beginning of the genocide.

[dykedvonte]

Can you talk about trans!Curly a little bit more? I'm curios if you have any headcanons and the like

-💀

It's just such a thing in my mind because it adds a truthful sadness and differing aspect to mouthwashing.

If Curly was trans it adds the horror of the horribly selfish thought he could have easily been in Anya's situation. It could've been him but it wasn't and he so conflicted on the pit it put in his stomach that brings and the shameful relief it wasn't. In this scenario he is friends with Jimmy for a long time still. Jimmy likely knew him pretransition. Maybe he gave Curly weird looks then, maybe they never stopped after, maybe they seemed meaner. They are guys now, bros, both of them are. He doesn't really have to worry what those looks mean anymore, Jimmy just has that face with him sometimes. It's recontextualizing a lot of things for him that he was in denial about or too ashamed to admit. How naive he was being and how he let that get another person hurt.

Specifically with Anya, it's he knows the dread and fear she's feeling. He can understand it because he had to live with it for a good portion of his life, he knows it cause he still does, just in a slightly different way. It makes him think of all the times he's been alone with Jimmy, all the times he's been way more drunk off his ass and not remember the night, Jimmy was always with him the next day. Makes him think of the comments he would laugh off both because that's what guys do but because that part of being a girl says to laugh so Jimmy doesn't do something. It's the selfish realization that he was never safe and he's uncertain now too. Mad at himself for forgeting that feeling, espcially since for a long time he would've been considered the only woman on a crew (with all that implies) for a long time.

He should've taken those blinders off, step back into that position for just a moment and it's so much more painful that Anya likely came to him because he should've gotten it. Those thoughts don't leave his mind after the crash when he's in an even more vulnerable position than she was...

[ohsweetflips]

my jgy thoughts have been expanding and adapting and roiling and toiling etc etc etc and all of it is coming down to me affectionately marveling at this character. he’s cut-throat. he’s cunning. his kindness leaves lasting impressions. his mercy is what predates his demise. he’s one of the few cultivators who helps those in need. he will sacrifice them if it benefits him. he loved. it didn’t last. it killed him. it orchestrated his downfall. he’s a genius. he’s paranoid. he compartmentalizes. he splits the world into who he would sacrifice and who he would not. people he loves and people he would sacrifice are not mutually exclusive. he’s filial to a fault. it was all for his mother. he is a study in assimilating to survive. the results vary. he manipulates the herd mentality to his benefit. it is turned against him. he is killed for the one thing he didn’t do by the one person he wouldn’t sacrifice. it is still somehow better than what the hive-mind cultivation world would have done. i love this tragic kaleidoscope of a character.

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

honestly it's been really healing being back to actively contributing things and writing out thoughts on tumblr the last week or so, because while twitter tends to be easier for me to write out Thoughts on without getting overwhelmed, the environment in the twitter fandom circles i'm interested in is not only infested with antis but cliqueish in a way that is caustic to the fucking soul if you try to express a thought that's more than three sentences long--a hundred times over if you're autistic in slightly the wrong way--and it's incredibly reassuring to come back to an environment where the very kindest and most inclusive people toward you are not clearly thinking the r-slur the entire time they interact with you lmao

[revenge-of-the-assbutt]

i feel sick

[girlivealwaysbean]

sometimes my boobs hurt so much i think they're gonna bleed surely this is normal right

[feenmies]

if you speak badly about my friends in my presence i am not going to fuck with you i'm sorry like it's not happening