#myself included. and i get it. and it hurts.

[famouskoaladetective]

My mom was an abusive alcoholic for most of my early childhood.

She got sober but surrounded us with people from AA who she knew were sex offenders and she didn't protect me from them because she thought being sober made them good people who wouldn't hurt me.

She got married multiple times and prioritized her partners over me, even lying to have me hospitalized when she wanted to elope with husband #2, and she let him hit me.

She repeatedly voluntarily put me into foster care or the care of family members growing up because she couldn't handle having a disabled queer kid, especially with her drinking and mental health problems.

She made me drop out of school because she didn't want to be awake when I would have to do homeschooling if I homeschooled. Plus, me dropping out meant I could work in her boyfriend's tattoo shop, until the artists (my bosses) relapsed, and gave my aunt hep c, closing the shop and leaving me with nothing.

She promised to let me live with her until I got on my feet when my dad died when I was 17, but put me out on the street 6 months after I turned 18 because husband #3 didn't like my Abyssinian cat or my boyfriend (who his kids/my step sisters had beaten up and stolen Adderall from in highschool)

She basically let me be homeless. She doesn't help me with leaving abusive situations and we've been estranged on and off during my adult life to the point where we stopped talking and when I reached back out, I had another kid she didn't know about and she was onto husband #4.

But she's my lawyer.

She's the only family I have left since my dad's dead and my partner destroyed my relationship with my grandmother (who's so far gone with dementia, she doesn't know who I am)

I'm kinda forced to have a relationship with my mom to protect myself.

Granted, she's doing much better than she was when I was younger. Living overseas and marrying my current step dad mellowed her out.

But yeah... I don't like my mom very much, but I love my parents, and I need their help a lot as single disabled trans parent. So I deal with her mental health symptoms, including narcissistic tendencies (don't come at me, I'm not claiming 'narc abuse ', but she is diagnosed with severe BPD with narcissistic tendencies and it does affect our relationship because she does the whole "I hate you, don't leave me" thing towards me out of habit. She's done it my whole life and it's getting better but it's still a problem. I understand that it's due to her trauma and I don't hold it against her but ngl it hurts.)

So yeah sometimes people's relationships with their parents are complicated but they just have to deal with it. Don't judge people, we're just adults dealing with lifetimes of baggage.

[drdemonprince]

Heck, I was just wondering about catastrophising. I've seen a lot of it these past days that makes me glad I don't really do social media anymore, because hot damn. But people I actually know, and have a rapport with, have gone absolutely mental and it hurts to see them take a running leap off the deep end into catastrophising. (Including spouting conspiracy bullshit about controlled opposition...) I guess it's the shock and this is them trying cope poorly with it, but damn, it hurts to see and is so fucking unproductive and draining.

it drives me fucking nuts and makes me so anxious. I think the nature of how social media works (and the advent of the 24 hour news cycle that came before it) means that people are especially unskillful in stopping rumination at this point in human history. people lock on to unproductive thought cycles really badly and if anything it's socially encouraged. I think all you can really do is step aside when people's explosiveness is getting to you -- it's been getting to me a lot these days. When loved ones spiral at me I try to let them get it out of their system and then find my space.

I've been keeping myself mentally busy by reviewing a recent journal article on global transmisogynistic attitudes that I'm going to write an essay about next week, and that's been helping me feel like I'm doing something useful to others while also keeping my mind engaged. It's a really impactful study I'm excited to share with a more lay audience, because it demonstrates so clearly that transmisogyny is its own unique bias that is independent from & more severe than prejudice against trans men, but it also has key flaws because its author is a cis woman with apparently no knowledge of the theories of transmisogyny that trans femme scholars have put out. Anyway, it's good to have things we feel capable of working on and important we find our niches for making a difference.

[the-common-cowgirl]

I fell off my horse last night. “Are you alright” and “Are you okay” were the first questions out of my best friend’s mouth. I quickly accessed myself., patting my body all over. The back of my helmet was cracked open but I was okay. “Yes” I replied hastily with slight embarrassment, as I walked toward my filly.

My filly. My filly who had never seen a deer before. My filly who had never had someone fall off of her before. My filly was not alright.

She danced around the group of horses, eyes so wide her sclera was pronounced. She stayed, albeit shaking and nervous, with the group, despite the fact that she was scared she did something bad to me, despite the fact there was a monster nearby she had never seen. She stayed, vibrating in her fear.

And as my adrenaline levels caused me to shake as I caught her, I realized that no one asked if she was okay. Was she hurt in the fall? How is her confidence? Has the fear gotten to her stomach?

I ran a hand over her neck and she flinched. “It’s okay,” I told her. “I’m okay. Are you okay?”

She jumped at the question. No she wasn’t. She wasn’t okay but that didn’t matter to the rest of the group.

“Get back on,” another friend shouted, eager to start the ride again.

I’m okay to ride, I’m fine throwing my leg over again but she’s not.

I have a trivial opportunity here; I can get back on and potentially make way for another traumatic episode for both of us, or I can calm her down, ensure she’s fine and resume the ride later.

“You guys go ahead,” I called out, “I’m going to take some time with her.”

Sometimes, when something happens to us, we only think of ourselves. Sometimes, when something happens to us and we are safe, we write it off. Sometimes when something happens, we are selfish.

You have to put yourself in others shoes to see the whole picture.

You, yourself, might be pro-life. You, yourself, might think abortion is murder. You, yourself, might think people who seek medical care for abortions should be jailed.

Have you put yourself in the other’s shoes?

No? Well I was forced to.

I used to be pro-life. I used to think abortions should be outlawed. I only thought of myself, I never put myself in the shoes of the other person because at the time, I was fine… until I was forced to be put into the other side’s shoes.

At 8 weeks pregnant, I went into the Emergency Room with severe pain in my abdomen. Pain so bad I was fainting. And the doctors sat me down and told my pro-life self that I needed an abortion. And you know what my pro-life self thought? I am so glad I have access to the appropriate care I need in order to survive.

For those three hours, I was relieved to have access to an abortion. Until the doctors came in and told me it was a misdiagnosis and I wouldn’t need an abortion, I was relieved. My stance was broken when I was forced to be put into the other side’s shoes. I wanted this baby and I would have been heartbroken but I still would have chosen an abortion if I really needed it and I’m so glad I had access.

Nothing in this world is black and white. You simplify the pain people who seek an abortion go through because you refuse to put yourself in their shoes. You refuse your natural empathy because you think you’re a higher power, that you’re somehow better for choosing a fetus over a living, breathing human being with thoughts and feelings and friends and people who will miss them when they’re gone. You vote against the rights of all, including yourself because you tell yourself that you’re choosing the moral high ground. Are you? Or are you just choosing yourself?

Because you’re okay. Because you’re alright.

What happens on the day you’re not?

[funnyinsanegirl]

Second Chances [Touya Todoroki x Reader]

˙⋆✮ That's So True ✮⋆˙

"Looking into big blue eyes. Did it just to hurt me, make me cry Smiling through it all, yeah, that's my life."

even villains deserve a lil redemption

Dabi x F. Reader

𓂃ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ༄˖°𓂃ﾟ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ.

WC: 1398

I'm sat on my thrifted couch by the window as rain softly beats against the glass. I press play on the voicemail for what feels like the millionth time, the words already burned into my memory, but still, I can’t help myself. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe hearing it again will change something.

"Y/N, please come back. What I did was wrong, it’s been months... I can’t lose you. The league misses you, too. Toga won't shut her damn mouth about you. Fuck, I’m so drunk right now... I love you. I know I didn’t say it often, but—"

The sound of Shigaraki’s raspy voice cuts through, sharp and impatient. "What are you yapping about?" he snarls. "We’ve got shit to do, wrap it up."

Dabi’s voice stumbles back in, slurred. "Bye, Y/N. I have to get a new burner soon- I’ll try calling again. Fuck, I know you won’t pick up. You haven’t the last dozen times but I’ll try." The message ends with a quiet beep.

It’s been three months since that call. And by then, I’d already been gone for seven. Seven months since the night I left him—the night I left all of them behind. His betrayal, his lies... it was too much. It’s been almost a year since I stepped away from the league, from the chaos, from the life that almost consumed me and swallowed me whole. A year since I walked out and didn’t look back.

I’m lucky, though. So stupidly lucky. My quiet, lowkey role in the league made slipping away easy, there were no repercussions or police coming after me every time I stepped foot outside. I’ve kept off the radar, built a new life for myself—a quiet life. I work at a flower shop now, which is insanely different than working as a villain for Shigaraki and the League of Villains, and it smells a lot better too. I’ve even gotten myself a little apartment on the edge of town, cozy, with a window that overlooks a quiet street, and roommate, which is actually just a little calico kitty that I named Cupcakes.

I’ve found peace here. Real peace. But the voicemail keeps pulling at me like a thread that came loose on a favorite sweater, both painful circumstances. And no matter how hard I try to ignore it, I know Dabi’s voice will haunt me forever if I don't talk to him at least one more time, and attempt to get better closure than some shitty drunk voicemail.

I text Giran, the broker that supplies the league with everything, including burner phones. Dabi stopped calling recently, so I assumed he lost my number with the last burner, because knowing him, he wouldn't stop calling just to give me space.

Me: Hi Giran! It's Y/N, I know we haven't talked in a while, but I was wondering if you know Dabi's current burner phone #? 😇

He gets back to me almost immediately.

Giran: Y/N!! So good to hear from you, kid, thought you fell off the planet lmao. And yea I can send the number. Giran: ###-###-####

He sends me the number, and I dial it immediately, my hands trembling. After a few rings, Dabi picks up, his voice sounding annoyed. "Who’s this? And how’d you get this number?"

"Hey, uhm... it’s me, Y/N."

"Y/N?" His tone softens, a hint of surprise in his voice. "Didn’t think I’d hear from you tonight. What’s up?"

I hesitate for a moment before speaking. "I just wanted to talk... are you busy?" I can hear a lot of voices in the background—probably everyone from the League. "If you’re tied up, it’s fine. It’s nothing important."

"Never too busy for you, doll." His voice shifts, and I hear him step away from the noise, the background chatter fading as he walks off.

The noise in the background slowly fades as he steps away, and I imagine him walking down a hallway, his boots hitting the floor with a slow, deliberate rhythm. The sounds of his breathing and the soft hum of his movements are the only things I can hear now. It’s strange, this feeling of distance and closeness at the same time.

“Alright, I’m all yours,” Dabi says, his voice rough but clear now, like he’s giving me his full attention. “What’s on your mind, Y/N?”

I swallow hard, staring at the rain outside, the droplets running down the glass, blurring everything in sight. My heart races in my chest, a million thoughts running through my head, none of them making sense. “I don’t know,” I admit, running a hand through my h/c hair. “I guess... I just needed to hear your voice.”

“Yeah, I figured that.” He lets out a soft chuckle, though it sounds a little strained. “You’ve been gone for a while. Thought you were never gonna reach out.”

“I didn’t think I would either,” I reply quietly. “But... I keep listening to that last voicemail you left. Over and over again. I just... I couldn’t stop myself.”

There’s another long pause, and I can almost hear the shift in his posture. Maybe he’s rubbing his face, or clenching his jaw. I wouldn’t be surprised. Dabi’s never been one for easy emotions. “Shit,” he mutters, sounding like he’s been through too much to deal with this. “I shouldn’t have left that message. I meant what I said but I wish I said it better, I wasn’t thinking straight.”

"It's okay. I liked it." I say softly.

"Really?" He asks, his voice almost in disbelief at me admitting that I enjoy his shitty drunk voicemail despite everything. 

“Yeah,” I answer quietly, feeling the weight of the words settle between us. “It wasn't like you at all- guess the liquid courage helped a lil, huh?" I laugh dryly, "It was real sweet its own way. I could tell you meant it, even if you were drunk n didn’t know how to say it.”

Dabi’s silence on the other end feels heavier now. I can almost picture him—frowning, leaning against a wall, trying to collect himself. "Fuck," he mutters after a moment, voice low. "I never thought I'd hear you say something like that. But... I'm glad you did."

“I’ve been avoiding it,” I admit, my fingers tightening around my phone. "Avoiding you, avoiding everything. But I can’t keep running forever."

Dabi lets out a long exhale, like a weight’s been lifted from his chest. "I get it. I know you had your reasons for leaving, and I don’t blame you for it. I fucked up." His voice drops a little. "But if I’m being honest... I’ve missed you, Y/N. More than I ever thought I would."

My heart skips a beat. It’s strange to hear him speak so plainly, without the usual sharpness in his voice. "I’ve missed you too," I whisper before I can stop myself. The confession catches me off guard, and I quickly add, "But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to just jump back into everything. Things are... complicated."

"I know," Dabi replies, quieter now, as if he’s absorbing my words. "I’m not asking you to. I’m just... saying that I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere. If you want me to prove it, I’ll prove it."

There’s something in his voice now that feels different, a promise without needing the words. A subtle shift in how he speaks to me, less like the cocky villain and more like a person who’s afraid of losing something he doesn’t deserve.

I stare out the window at the rain, a tightness in my chest as I let the quiet wash over me. I know I can’t go back to the way things were, but maybe—just maybe—I can start a new chapter with him, one where we’re both trying, even if we don’t have all the answers.

“I don’t know how I feel yet,” I say finally, voice soft but steady. “But... maybe we can try again. Slowly.”

Dabi’s voice is quieter now, but there's an undeniable relief in it. "That’s all I need. A chance. We can take it slow."

I lean back against the couch, closing my eyes as I listen to the steady rain and his steady breathing on the other end of the line. For the first time in a long while, the knot in my chest begins to loosen. There’s no going back to what we were before, but maybe there’s still a chance for something else.

"Alright," I whisper, a faint smile tugging at my lips despite myself. "Let’s see where this goes."

𓂃ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ༄˖°𓂃ﾟ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ.

[fearecia]

This is probably going to come off as a trolling response, and for that I apologize. Please know that I'm engaging with this in a genuine desire to understand/figure things out. I'm also not super educated on a lot of things, including politics, so this may be my ignorance showing.

Also know that this is me baring my internal emotions and thoughts and not censoring myself. And I don't necessarily represent anyone or any group. I'm also trying to reconcile what's expected of me with my internal landscape.

Just... How? How can you not expect to be met with anger when trying to interact with the people that your previous actions and associations have so greviously wronged? How can you expect me to welcome you with open arms and understanding? Why am I required to be the gracious one? Why am I expected to turn the other cheek when I'm the one that has suffered? When I'm the one that's been afraid my whole fucking life?

You've held the proverbial knife that's cut me. That's shaped my life. I'm just supposed to look the other way because you claim you've put it down? I'm supposed to trust that you won't hurt me again, even unintentionally?

Yes, you walked away from a very toxic family. From an abusive relationship. You left behind comfort and safety for the unknown. That took guts and a willpower that not many understand. I applaud you for that. I understand the cost of walking away from abusers, of trying to repair the damage to your life that they caused. Of mourning everything lost because they kept it when you left. I also know that not everything can be fixed, and sometimes you just have to accept that it's gone forever. I also know what it's like to have to tolerate and play nice and hold my tongue when an abuser can't be fully removed from my life. Because they are family. And to not behave myself means costing me the rest of my family.

All this anger may make it seem like I hate you. I don't hate you. But I don't trust you either. And if you were a friend of mine that I was trying to help recover, there would be times that anger would slip through and show. Especially as I helped you unlearn all the things you were taught that are poison. When I called you out for the problematic thought patterns you engaged in unknowingly. Because dear gods, there's so much frustration lurking underneath the surface at all the ways people unknowingly hurt those around them. And some days I just don't have the spoons to keep it all in and be patient.. again. For the twentieth time. Because you aren't the only one I'm expected to patiently and personally educate.

I'm not perfect either. I know that. I suffer from similar problematic thought patterns and habits. I'm not always the best at listening when other people call me out either. I'm doing my best to work on it. Some days are better than others. Sometimes the anger at my own failings gets misdirected. I don't expect forgiveness for my wrongs. I expect to have to work for it. I just ask that people continue to hold me accountable, and if possible, please be patient with me. I'm not always going to get either of those things and I consider that to be fair. I'm the one that's screwed up, after all.

It would be easy to see all this as hate. Really, it's pain. It's grief. It's the reaction to growing up in a world that sees me as less than. As disposable. Where I have also been hated for simply existing. For daring to be smarter or more capable or in any way better than any male around me. Where I have to work three times as hard just to be considered on the same level as the men around me. And even then, my contributions will just result in more shit being piled on my plate with no recognition or recompense.

I'm assuming by "leftists" you mean "anyone not Republican" or maybe just "Democrats." I don't know. I've heard the term used to describe the nasty elements of the left, and I've heard it used to describe Democrats as a whole. The left has it's own version of MAGA. Every group has its bad apples. I think we usually try to call them out, distance ourselves, or otherwise not encourage them. This is a spot where my ignorance is going to show. I just know that the circles I run in don't hate people for having opposing views or for coming from the wrong background. Are we angry? Of course we are. We try to moderate ourselves and only engage when it's useful/helpful. Otherwise, we try to keep quiet and leave the interactions to the people who have the spoons to deal with it. As evidenced by this response, well, we don't always succeed in holding our tongues.

This is an extremely long winded way to say:

- If these people are spewing hate at you for existing, have you fallen in with the bad apples on our side?

- Is it possible you're misinterpreting corrections and anger and frustration as hate?

- If what I'm describing from my point of view is what you're referring to, what am I supposed to do with all this pain and anger? How am I supposed to treat you as a brother when you've been complicit in my pain? What gives you the right to even expect that from me?

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[ninjagirlstar5]

So, uh, I know recent news have been...not great. Particularly in the US. And I think it's important to acknowledge that.

However, I also think it's important to take care of our mental health and do something fun since we'd only be hurting ourselves with constant doom scrolling and fixating on the bad stuff 24/7.

So, I decided to officially open up simple Art Requests! And what I mean by that is I'm going to be drawing characters in the style of AVA/M stick figures! Both regular and in chibi style.

Examples:

(If you follow @/a-student-out-of-time, you probably already seen this little chibi drawing of Umeko Hayase, who belongs to the mod himself, I made for fun since I sent this in an ask yesterday. I'm using this drawing since it best represents what I will do for the chibi sticks.)

All art requests for this will be digital and fully colored, but won't be fully rendered. I want to keep the drawings simple and easy to make for myself for as long as I keep requests open.

With that out of the way, here are some rules for what to send in:

Requests for AVA/M characters are obviously welcome and I will be using my own designs & headcanons for them when completing your requests.

For those who followed me for my DRA & SDRA2 stuff (mostly SDRA2), I will also do art for characters from the duology! They will just be turned into stick figures, hehe. (I may even do canon characters from the Danganronpa series in general if anyone sends requests for them.)

(Also, if you want either AIkado or IRLkado in your request, please specify which one you want. Same goes for other characters in SDRA2 if you want their teenager or adult versions.)

OCs (and sonas) are also allowed, whether Danganronpa, AVA/M, or not! A reference is required, though. And if your OC isn't a stick for AVA/M, I suggest giving me a specific color you want me to use for the OC that you feel fits them best since these will be done in the stick figure style.

No NSFW! I do not make that kind of stuff in my art, and anyone that requests that will be ignored or blocked if repeatedly asked.

Shipping is allowed, but anything that involves incest, child/minor x adult, and abusers x victims will be ignored and blocked. And yes, that includes adopted siblings/children, so no Mikako X Yamato and Mango X Purple nonsense. I will smite you on sight.

While I do enjoy toxic yaoi/yuri (*gestures to my Sannotori stuff*), the point of these art requests is to make fun and fluffy stuff, so if you request a ship like Sannotori, I will make sweet and kind art for them.

I have the right to NOT do a ship if I'm uncomfortable with it or just don't like it. (ex. Mango X Navy, Alan X Anyone, Chosen X Second/Orange, Mikado X Sora or Yuki, Mitch X Anyone, etc.)

(This includes shipping in SDRA2 in general due to a certain twist that makes it...a little strange. While I'm pretty sure all the characters are adults, I decided that it's best to treat it as more of a case by case basis and how big the age gaps are.)

I will draw a max of three characters per request.

If the request is a ship, please specify it to be romantic, otherwise I will assume it's just a friendly interaction between two (or more) characters. Or use their ship name (with the characters' names as well just to make sure I know which ones I'm doing).

If you have a specific scene for a request, tell me in your ask. Otherwise I will just do whatever comes to mind first. Edit: I forgot to mention this but this applies to which style you want me to do between regular stick or chibi. My bad. ^^;

Requests will be fluff and kind only! As mentioned before, the point of this is to do something nice and relaxing for everyone involved. And personally, I am not in the mood to make angst. Please respect that.

(Funny shitpost requests are also allowed, of course.)

I will only take requests through my asks, no where else.

And I believe that's it. This list of rules may get updated if anything else is brought to my attention, but yeah! I think I'm gonna leave these requests open for about a month so this will last until December 7th, 2024, at midnight! Any requests I haven't gotten around to by the deadline will still be completed if they're ones I want to do but anything sent after the date will be ignored.

Feel free to send in requests!

[farmhandler]

Ahhhh pls do Logan & cable attempting to bond, maybe over Wade??

There was supposed to be more bonding sjhskjhsa it's truly "there was an attempt" here

---

"You smoke?" Logan asked. He didn't know why he did, only that Wade's constant chatter about his latest job with Cable had involved several long monologues about the two of them "getting along".

He and Cable got along just fine.

"No," Cable said. He took the cigar Logan was holding and examined the label. "Expensive habit. Where I'm from, we don't make it a habit."

His tone said, you're all fucking idiots in this timeline.

They didn't not get along.

"Beats drinking myself to sleep," Logan said. "Can't exactly get cancer. But fine, just thought I'd offer. Where's Wade?"

"He told me he was going to find you."

Logan thought about how Wade had told him that exact same thing and shook his head. They were outside the X-Force base of operations, after hours, so he lit up.

"He'll find us when he gets bored of being an asspain," Logan said around his cigar. He pulled out his phone and tapped on it.

where the fuck are you, he texted Wade.

“What have I done to deserve your ire?” Cable said, which was exactly the kind of thing that earned said ire. Fucking prick.

Cable looked at him like he'd heard it. Logan forgot he was one of the telepaths around here that had zero qualms about abusing his powers to get what he wanted.

"You murdered Wade lately?" Logan said evenly. He pulled his cigar away and met Cable's eyes.

“Is that it? I see no point in stating the obvious, but since it seems you forgot, I will. We've both killed Wade. Multiple times.”

"You're awfully fucking comfortable making use of his inability to die." He took another puff and shifted to face Cable. "I read the mission reports shared by the X-Men."

"We make tactical, strategy-based decisions." Cable paused; probably reading Logan's fucking mind again. "No one under my command is thrown into unnecessary danger." He breathed out through his nose. "I don't need to explain myself to you. This is pointless."

"Wade can take it," Logan said. "Doesn't mean he should."

"What can I take?" Wade asked, popping up from seemingly nowhere. His mask was rolled up, and when he walked over, he laid an exaggerated, smeary kiss across Logan's cheek.

Then, probably because he wanted to piss Logan off, he tried to do the same to Cable. Logan was sure Cable would do their usual routine where he shoved him away, but he just sat there while Wade kissed his cheek.

Logan took a very, very long puff of his cigar while it happened.

"Well now it feels like cheating," Wade said, frowning. "You were supposed to stop me."

"I don't see why I should, considering that evidently I don't make any attempts to stop you from doing what you want, whenever you want."

"Of fucking course," Logan muttered.

"This no longer feels like it's about me," Wade said. "Are you two talking about the mission from the other day? I told Cable I could handle it, and I did. Everyone in the building fucking died!"

"Including you," Cable said. He sounded pissed. "I gave you very clear instructions. Orders."

"Which you knew I wouldn't follow," Wade said blithely. "We have an understanding. You try to do things by your annoying little book and I ignore you. It works every time."

Meeting Cable's eyes, Logan felt maybe a little chastened hearing that. Domino walked out calling Wade's name, and Wade skipped towards her.

"Be right back!" he called. "Don't fight over me until I am!"

"I don’t need to read your thoughts to hear how often you assume the worst of me,” Cable said to Logan.

"You're...yeah, you're fucking right," Logan admitted. "Sorry."

Cable looked at him for a while and then sighed.

"I don't make much of an effort either." He crossed his arms and pulled from his pack, of all things, lip balm. "I don't go out of my way to get Wade hurt. But in many ways, his skills are unmatched."

"I know. And I know you care about him. Same way I care about him," Logan said. He thought back to Wade's kiss on his cheek. He chuckled. "Maybe not the same way."

Cable's lips lifted into the closest thing to a smile Logan had possibly ever seen on him.

[joelsdagger]

i’ve made and deleted this post quite a few times over the last couple of days. and at first, i wasn’t going to say anything because this doesn’t even cover what i wanted to say by even a little, but ultimately, seeing a few others make similar posts encouraged me, and i really just need to get this off my chest, and if it resonates with one person, then i’m happy. this is not coherent at all, but like many, my brain is mush, so forgive me, and here we go...

as a (closeted) queer palestinian american woman, a daughter to immigrant parents, living in a fairly conservative state, i’m fucking terrified. i don’t have faith my rights are protected here. i don’t have faith that my parents and my sisters will be safe every time they step out of the house (in true typical arab fashion; i am white passing, they are not). my family has been targeted and met with violence numerous times since october of last year, and it's only going to get worse. which brings me to my next point.

i also don’t have faith that the genocide in gaza (that has now expanded to south lebanon and syria) is coming to an end, an end where palestinians can live and thrive in their native land anytime soon. and seeing people turn on us — so fast, spewing hate in saying “fuck palestine”, “fuck boycotting” and “you don’t care about my rights, so i don’t care about yours,” is incredibly saddening, disappointing, and infuriating. my grief, anger, and anxiety are at their peak and have been at their peak for well over a year now. and i don't have the brain capacity to say what i really want to say about the hatred and misplaced anger being directed towards arabs, but for now i will say this: 

now is not the time to turn on one another. now is not the time for infighting within marginalized groups. now is not the time to be selfish. to care about yourselves and not others, makes you no better than them. that is why this country is so divisive in the first place. that is how we got here. having that mentality — that ideology is dangerous and destructive. you are doing the work for white supremacists. you are perpetuating white supremacy. and it isn’t going to serve any of us because essentially our struggles as oppressed groups are deeply interconnected. we need to look out for one another. take care of one another. it will get worse before it gets better. and we’re only at the tip of the iceberg.

the fight isn’t over; we’re just getting started. and i know you’re tired; i, for one, am at my breaking point. but we cannot let them win. so let yourself feel whatever it is you need to feel right now: grief, anger, sadness, hurt, whatever it is; it's all valid, and believe me, you are not alone. take the time to feel it. and then let it fuel you and your ambitions.

i also want to reiterate that this is a safe space for all. except anyone who believes trump is a good man and voted for that racist, fascist, rapist piece of shit. y’all can fuck right off. the rest of you: disabled people, chronically ill people, queer people, aro-ace people (i’m specifically pointing you out because i know how we're treated in queer spaces, and it is not fair nor is it right), trans people, women, people of color, sexual assault survivors — if you're reading this and you're unsure of your place, please stay. i need you. i care about you. this place and this world are better with you in it. you are welcome here. you are safe here.

i’ll be here for anyone who needs it, whether it’s to chat about silly little fandom things — it’s imperative we protect this space and continue to encourage the creation of art around here. it’s imperative we stop normalizing the censorship and policing of fandom spaces (because that's another reason how we got here). fandom spaces are communities, and very often they are the only spaces where people feel safe. for most (myself included), it’s all we have left — or whether you want to vent about how much you hate the state of the world — you'll always have a listening ear and a shoulder to lean on in this tiny little nook here. seriously. my inbox and dm's are always open. 

hold each other close. protect one another. the only way we’re going to get through this is if we stand together and continue putting in the work, because it’s times like this when the real work begins.

i’m sending you all so so much love. forever and always.

noelle xx

[uke-zone]

I really hate to post something like this on an account called uke-zone, but there's not much choice. I'm going to be homeless in a month.

For the past 2 years, I’ve been stuck in a toxic job because I took the first one I could get without reliable transport. I’ve been working as a web admin, making $14,400 a year. My rent is $12,360 a year, not including bills. I scraped by, constantly stressed, and exhausted. I lived alone after leaving an abusive family environment, so I just kept going.

Four days ago I was given a termination notice—the day after I refused to violate FCC guidelines. They wanted me to add a static list of customers to an email list, without allowing them to unsubscribe, and I couldn’t let myself be complicit or get hit with a $5,000 fine.

No savings, no support system, and no cushion. I won't survive the next month if I'm evicted. There is just straight up nowhere to go.

If you’re able to help me keep a roof over my head while I continue the job search, please drop a $20 or the most that won't hurt here: paypal.me/Ymukhopadhyay

In Texas, unemployment takes at least 4 weeks, assuming no disputes, and with my employer that's not happening. Rent is due. I’d be eligible for $143 a week, which... isn’t even close to enough to keep a roof over my head or eat. I couldn’t pay one month of rent if I tried. I'm looking down the barrel of being homeless again, and would frankly rather be dead.

If you have any need for a web developer, designer, or multimedia content specialist, I'd appreciate any support there as well, whether through projects or referrals.

I need to survive the next 30 days to not be constantly on the verge of losing everything. Going back to living paycheck-to-paycheck with no security and no safety net isn't an option. I was terrified one mistake or one bad turn could leave me with nothing until it did.

If you can’t offer help, I understand. But if you can, I'm begging in random tags on the Internet because I don’t want to be homeless again.

GoFundMe, if PayPal isn't an option

Thanks for reading this. ❤️

[impossibleprincess35]

Since you're an American, what are your thoughts on the comparisons of the Duchess and the Death Watch to the election? I read one of your stories and you compare them to alt-right politics in the U.S. Thx!

Heyoooooo, thanks for the ask! I'm going to go TL;DR, so please forgive me and feel free to wish you'd never asked. :)

So, I've never been a Trump voter. Never. It's been a major point of contention with close family and friends, and in the 8 years since his first campaign, it has been eye opening watching people blatantly fall for fascism in the guise of security and strength.

And so, during the pandemic, dealing with so much misinformation and seeing so many people subject others to danger to make a point about their "freedom," when I rewatched "The Clone Wars," the Mandalore storylines hit so much harder.

A lot of times, when people are hating on the Satine character and blaming her for Mandalore's fall, what I see is a lack of acknowledgement that Death Watch was so hell-bent on getting their way that they had to stage incidents to make her look weak and unfit as a ruler. They weren't starving. They weren't exiled from their system. They got a moon. They had political representation with a governor. They had resources. But instead of using everything at their disposal to do better and to evolve as a people, they used it to stage bombings, attacks, and incidents that only hurt their own people and undermined their own system.

But what Death Watch did so well was they spun a narrative that is so false that even FANS believe it.

Like, we're supposed to see that they're domestic terrorists.

But people are out here like, "Fuck Satine, she's the worst."

Oh, okay.

As an American, I've seen two viable, suitable female candidates who have lost to Donald Trump, a piece of shit grifter, a convicted felon, an impeached dirtbag of a human being, and BOTH of these women have lost.

The bar is so high for them, and it's so low for Trump.

And I see that with Satine Kryze and Pre Vizsla.

The damning theories about Satine committing genocide on her people and white-washing them of their history and culture are assumptions made from information given to us on the show by Almec, who turns out to be as corrupt as Pre Vizsla and Tal Merrik, and inferred from the animation choices made due to budget constraints; but those things are held over Satine's head and her reputation as though they are gospel. As though she herself confirmed them.

Meanwhile, Pre Vizsla is out here running an entire terrorist group that intends to destabilize Mandalore's peaceful government just to reassert themselves as strong warriors. He has shown us who he is. He shows us every time we see him on screen after his reveal as the leader of Death Watch. He commits himself to it. He has gaggles of lackeys behind him putting him up on a pedestal, enabling him.

But Satine's always the villain, and always to blame; nevermind the fact that she has proven herself to be a resilient leader who put her people above all else, including her own desires, and she fights to keep them out of the fray between the Republic and the Separatists. More than anything else, their stability and their independence is her top priority.

And I guess, for me, I see strength in Satine's diplomacy, strength in her kindness, strength in her restraint; so when I see people who only acknowledge strength in name calling, in divisiveness, in threats of violence, like Pre Vizsla and Death Watch, I'm instantly reminded of the crowd of American politics who believe that we must bully our way around the world.

The bar for women, especially women of color, is set so high that it's unattainable; but the bar for men is so low it's in hell.

And as an American who voted for Vice President Kamala Harris, and who was genuinely thrilled to imagine a Harris/Walz administration, I've found myself annoyed by the remarks about her that I've read. The claims that she's not tough. That she couldn't hold her own with a room of world leaders. Because I don't see that. And I'm heartbroken to see that the popular vote wanted brute force and displays of bully behavior instead of a steady, calm hand to bring us together as a nation.

Worst of all, I fear the very possible outcome that, much like Mandalore, Americans are sacrificing their liberties for what they believe is security (ie. the xenophobic hate and the border talking points, lower grocery prices, etc.), but like Ben Franklin said, they'll lose both and deserve neither.

And in Mandalore's case, the people were scammed into believing that Satine failed them, when really, the attack on Sundari was an inside job - and when the flames of fear were stoked, the people turned on Satine, on peace, for the safety they believed Death Watch was going to bring them.

And then their asses got glassed by the Empire.

I look at what's going on around me, and I'm disappointed because I'm a dumb optimistic bitch who believed Americans were better than this. And there's a lot of blame to go around, but the vibe is off and things do not feel right. My gut tells me that the game was rigged - that Madam VP Harris was meant to fail from the word go, because the right aligned themselves to win at all costs, even at the costs of their own nation.

But Jyn Erso said it best: Rebellions are built on hope.

So, hopefully we don't get glassed..?

Jesus, how do I even end this post?

I'm sorry. I know you're wishing you'd never asked. <3

[grandpeachpersona]

It's A Man's World

Chapter 3 (My House)

(Gif credit to Pinterest)

We did it! I can hardly believe it—we won! The excitement in the air is palpable as we look at the final score flashing on the scoreboard: 7-3.

Inside the boys’ locker room, a wave of energy washes over us, and cheers erupt from every corner. The scent of sweat and freshly laundered jerseys mingles with the smell of beer as we come together to celebrate. Laughter and shouts echo off the walls, creating a symphony of joy and triumph.

As the impromptu celebration kicks into high gear, teammates are gleefully pouring beer over one another's heads, turning the locker room into a chaotic yet joyful beer bath. The sight of everyone—grinning, soaking wet, and filled with a sense of accomplishment—truly captures the spirit of our hard work paying off.

In that moment, it doesn’t matter who played the best or who made mistakes. What matters is that we put in the effort as a team, battled through challenges, and shared in this unforgettable victory together. These moments of unity and joy are what make this journey worthwhile.

After a beer bath celebration and a nice shower, I'm finally lying in the comfort of my hotel when my phone rings I look down to see who it is.

Facetime call from Ja’Marr 🧡

I swipe accept on the call and his face pops up on the screen.“Yo! Congrats sis” he says. I smile back into the camera “Thank you very much. But just know when I see you I'm going to hurt you” I say playfully

Ja’marr and I have been friends since LSU, even though he graduated a class before me. I was on the softball team and he was on the football team, our paths often crossed in the sports center on campus. But became good friends when he and the football team decided to surprise us after we had won the state championship game.

“Yeah, yeah, well, see? What are you doing?” he asks. I shake my head. “Nothing, just relaxing.”

He looks at me as if I’m crazy. “Relaxing? How come you’re not out celebrating?” I shrug my shoulders. “The guys are, but Mia has to work in the morning, and I just didn’t feel like it.” He knows I’ve never been a party person.

“Get dressed! I’m coming to get you. Dress comfortably.” I do a double-take at the screen. “Huh?” I exclaim. “Send me your location. We are going to celebrate tonight whether you like it or not. You’re in my house now.” I roll my eyes, knowing there’s no point in arguing with him. Plus, he’s right: his house, his rules. “Alright, I’ll be ready soon.”

About an hour later, I found myself standing at the front door of Ja’marr’s house, my heart racing with anticipation as I waited for him to unlock it. The air was thick with excitement, and I couldn't help but tease him. “Boy, you don't know the keys to your own house?” I called out, a playful smile on my lips. He responded with a dramatic smacking of his teeth and a roll of his eyes. “Girl, shut up,” he retorted, clearly unbothered by my banter.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ja’marr opened the door and stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter.

As soon as I crossed the threshold, the lights suddenly flicked on, and a chorus of voices erupted with a gleeful “Surprise!” I was taken aback, my eyes widening in shock. My mouth dropped open as I jumped back, unable to contain my astonishment. “What the heck!” I screamed in disbelief. Spinning around, I shot a mock glare at Ja’marr and playfully backhanded him in the middle of his chest. “Really!”

He laughed, raising his hands to protect his chest, pretending to be wounded. “Sorry, I had to get you back somehow,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. I turned my attention back to the sea of familiar faces in the room, and my jaw dropped when I realized that half of the Bengals Football team was crammed into his house, mingling and laughing, including Mia, who had sworn to me that she had to work. Ha! “Work,” my mind scoffed.

“Hi, everyone,” I called out, injecting energy into the room as I waved to the crowd.

In response, a collective “Hi!” resonated back, accompanied by enthusiastic waves from the players. My gaze shifted to Mia, who was trying to suppress her laughter. “Girl, you knew about this!” I accused playfully, narrowing my eyes at her. She nodded, still chuckling, and managed to reply, “Sorry, sis.”

I shook my head in disbelief, pushing my tongue into my cheek in mock annoyance. “Okay, y’all play entirely too much,” I said, glancing back and forth between Ja’marr and Mia. But one person caught my eye, standing near the steps while everyone else began to mingle. He had his hands casually tucked into his pockets, an easy smile playing on his lips, and I felt my heart skip a beat.

“Thought you could leave without a party, huh?” he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Yeah,” I replied, pinching my fingers together to indicate how close I had come to escaping. “This close, Joe. This close.” He chuckled softly at my exaggerated gesture.

“Hey, Riley,” he said, making his way over to me with his signature swagger, and wrapped me in a warm side hug. “Hey, Burrow,” I responded, his name rolling off my tongue as smoothly as water flowing over stones.

“Damn, how much muscle have you put on since last year?” I asked, stepping back to look at him as we broke the hug. His smile broadened as he shrugged nonchalantly. “A few pounds, not much. But I should be asking you the same question!” he remarked, eyeing me with genuine curiosity.

Feeling a slight blush creeping onto my cheeks, I tilted my head down, suddenly self-conscious. “I couldn't stand looking like a popsicle stick anymore,” I admitted, trying to hide my embarrassment.

He smiled again, a warm and sincere expression. “Hey, either way, you look great,” he complimented softly. I felt butterflies start to flutter in my stomach as I returned his smile, the moment feeling charged with unspoken tension.

Girl.

Uh uh.

Snap. Out. Of. It.

“Thank you.” I managed out

“Come on, future superstar, for once a party is not about me,” he says, leading me to the living room where everyone else is.

Even though I really hate Ja’marr for putting me in a room full of people I don't know, after a while I started to warm up to them. I might not remember half their name at the end of this but hey. At least this is better than watching another episode of Love and Hip Hop in my hotel room by myself.

I was in the middle of a group conversation when I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. Excusing myself from the group I make my way to the patio and pull my phone out.

Jake Thompson. The contact name read.

Suddenly my heart rate started to pick up. This could be my go-home call. Oh god, I hope Mom still has my bed in my room.

My thumb shaking over the green button I swipe accept and put the phone to my ear “Hello” I say with a hesitation

“Hey Sierra it's Jake hope I didn't call you too late,” he says from the other end.

“No, you're fine! Everything OK?” If I could smack myself I would ask that out of all the questions.

“Oh no problems here. I just got out of the meeting with the big heads in the front office, and they were quite impressed with your performance, Riley,” He told me. Something in my gut is telling me there's a but coming.

“So impressed that they have informed me that they would like me to tell you that you are officially eligible to be drafted in the 2021 MLB Draft”

Bitch..did he say what I think he just said.

I feel like I'm going to pass out.

I feel my eyes burning as I try to hold back my tears “Oh my god” I manage to sit on one of the patio chairs “Congrats Sierra” Jake says and I can tell he is smiling on the other end of the phone “No thank you Jake for everything…” I managed to say through my choked-back sob.

“No thank you for all your hard work and your skip for pushing us to call you for the combine” Jake responds “Believed in you from day one kid. Know you're going to do great things. See you in a couple of days a the Daft Sierra" Jake says

“See you soon. Thanks for the call” I say through my silent tears

“No problem kid” I pulled the phone away from my ear and hung up.

I don't move, not a muscle. Still trying to process the information told to me. I'm going to be in the MLB Draft.

What. The. Fuck.

The sliding glass door opens with a soft whoosh, and the sudden movement jolts me from my mental fog. I can hear Mia’s voice behind me, filled with hope. “Please tell me it’s good news.”

Taking a deep, steadying breath, I close my eyes for a moment, allowing myself to gather my thoughts. “Looks like I’m staying for a couple more days,” I finally announce, my voice barely above a whisper. As I open my eyes, I focus on Mia’s face, watching as her expression shifts from anticipation to disbelief; her mouth drops open in shock. At that moment, I can no longer hold back my emotions, and tears begin to stream down my cheeks.

Without hesitation, Mia moves closer, sitting beside me and wrapping her arms around me in a warm embrace. At that moment, words feel unnecessary; the sheer support in her presence speaks volumes. “I’m so proud of you,” she finally says, her voice soothing and sincere. Hearing those words sends me over the edge, and I let out a sob, clinging to her even tighter as the weight of the moment crashes over me.

I’m acutely aware that I might look a bit unhinged, crying in front of a group of people I just met, but in this whirlwind of emotions, I really don’t care. This is my moment, a culmination of dreams and hard work, and I’m reveling in it.

Once my sobs begin to quiet and a sense of peace washes over me, I muster the courage to ask, “Please tell me this is a dream, Mia.”

She shakes her head gently, a soft smile gracing her lips. “No, this is the dream that you have, and it’s about to become a reality,” she replies, tenderly wiping away my tears with her thumbs.

Just then, I hear Joe’s voice cut through the moment as he steps out onto the patio alongside Ja’marr. “Please tell me those are happy tears,” he says, an encouraging grin spreading across his face.

I nod vigorously, managing to give them a weak smile while still sniffling. “Nothing but happy tears,” I assure them, my heart swelling with joy. “I’m going to the Draft!”

In an instant, Ja’marr brings the excitement to a fever pitch. “Hey, Sam! Open up the champagne!” he yells back into the house, his voice echoing with enthusiasm, causing a ripple of energy to surge through everyone present. The celebration was about to begin, and I couldn’t wait to embrace every moment of it.

@hoodharlow

[zerodaryls]

"how are we going so backwards with queer/trans rights in the u.s. these days?"

i keep finding myself falling into this mindset.

but the truth is, we haven't been going forwards for very long.

marriage equality wasn't a thing in the u.s. until 2015.

i was already 2 years outta high school.

hell, the stonewall riots were only just in 1969.

there are people still alive today who were alive during the riots.

the hiv/aids epidemic was at its height in the 80s-early 90s.

my own parents were in high school/college during that time. i was born in '95.

my ex-uncle was a gay guy who was being "counseled" by my religious grandmother who set him up with my aunt so he could stop being gay. needless to say, it didn't work. this was in the mid-90s. i was alive when this happened.

when i was in middle school, it was Big School Gossip that our music teacher was gay. this wasn't even two decades ago.

when i was in high school, it was Big School Gossip that our art teacher was a lesbian. this was barely over a decade ago.

caitlyn jenner came out as trans in 2015. (i know, but it's an important moment in recent trans history.)

i remember seeing tabloids in grocery stores for several years up until that point, photos of her on the cover spreading the "shocking" idea that she could be "a Transgender". people making jokes about her. pitying her family.

when i came out as trans/nonbinary, i was privileged to be living in california, where my legal and medical transition was (fairly) easily accessible (and i'm sure my being white, middle-class, and able-bodied helped in that area).

but there were still roadblocks.

they still forced me to be "examined" by a doctor to make sure my genitals were in order before he'd sign my gender change form. (a completely pointless legal requirement that accomplished nothing but make both of us uncomfortable.)

this wasn't even a decade ago.

i'm 28.

seeing queer and trans people living out loud is largely a New Thing for the general public.

being safe to walk around in rainbows and pride pins is a New Thing in the u.s. (and not even true for all parts of the u.s.!)

acceptance of queer and trans folks is still new. still uncomfortable for many cishets, even some of those who consider themselves Allies.

there have always been queer and trans people.

there have always been queer and trans allies.

but our rights, our acceptance, our place in society has always been a battle.

the battle didn't end in 2015.

"how are we going backward all of a sudden??"

there's nothing sudden about it.

bigots have been pushing back against our progress from the get-go.

they're raising younger bigots, and they're doing all they can to limit our ability to speak up and call for continued progress.

we aren't even a decade into marriage equality in the us.

there's nothing sudden about the shift away from our rights and wellbeing.

to my fellow younger millennials and gen z folks: we're lucky to have been alive at a time where such progress has been made.

but the ugly battles of earlier generations are not behind us.

it's fucking terrifying, but i think we really need to be prepared to face some truly ugly shit in the coming years.

we need to empower ourselves and each other.

those who came before us (and are still here, by the way! the queer population doesn't end at 30, holy fuck!) found community, banded together, and lifted each other up even when the future was bleak.

listen to them.

listen to each other.

and don't for one second give up hope for a brighter future.

that's what bigots want.

do we give bigots what they want in this house?

[kaezerdoodles]

Been seein some discourse in the fandom as of late and while I know I only occupy a tiny corner I want to put it out there that I’m proship. I literally couldn’t care less what you ship so long as it’s with fictional characters. If I don’t like it, I can keep scrolling- same goes for you. Let people be weird, it’s okay. Unfollow me if you so desire, I’m just gonna keep being weird whether you’re looking or not.

[bookwyrminspiration]

Reminder that we are engaging in fiction. The ships, actions, and situations are fictional and have zero impact on real people.

If you find it "gross" or uncomfortable, then don't look. Block and move on. It's not on anyone else to curate your online experience.

What someone does and enjoys in fiction is not representative of what they want or support in real life. And fiction does not have to be "right". It is fiction. It is made for playing around, including in dark and uncomfortable ways--because, again, no real people are involved.

I understand if this is the first time you've encountered something like this, it may be jarring and you may wonder why anyone would create something like that. Your feelings are valid. That does not mean you can police others' actions based on them.

That is a reaction you need to challenge and unlearn so you don't fall down the rabbit hole of purity, controlling what media exists, and who can engage with it. It's a slippery slope, because before you know it you will be moderating and controlling more than you ever intended to--no one is immune. Including me. I started to fall down the rabbit hole once, and had to challenge and undo that because it wasn't leading anywhere good.

And this intersects with power and privilege. The people in power control what is deemed acceptable and what people should be allowed to read and see, and the people in power maintain that by marginalizing others so they can create the world according to their beliefs. And while none of us here have massive influence, we can contribute to numbers and environment. And we do not want to do that.

It may seem like overreaction on my part to say "hey, being uncomfortable with a ship means you're on the way to reinforcing unjust power structures," but I'm illustrating that slippery slope. It seems innocuous, right, even just now--but it will not lead to good things.

Everyone has different tastes, which are perfectly fine to explore in fiction because the characters involved cannot be hurt because they aren't real. You are not being hurt by it existing; block it and move on.

Callout posts and witch hunts are poor ways to respond and cause nothing but grief. And while nothing extreme has happened yet, I want to nip this in the bud. We are not going over this again. Thanks :)

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Hey do you think ya can explain Barnaby and his illusion smoke a bit? It seems really cool and I don't remember if ya talked about it in depth before

sure! this got a bit longer than i expected!

so i was thinking that Barnaby seems like more of a hands-off kinda guy when it comes to altercations. would rather sit back and make funny commentary! so if he Had to get involved, i imagine it would be from a distance and still in an Entertaining Way!

thus - illusion magic! for this au i've been picturing that he got his paws on some illusionary herb in his early teens. for making people laugh, you know! and help out with the farm - illusions could distract animals, convince them to move on to different pastures, calm the chickens for egg-collecting, etc!

Ms. Beagle didn't really approve, since smoking is harmful, but lucky for the both of them this particular plant doesn't deal as much damage when smoked as normal smoking materials would - like tobacco! something to do with the magic properties! so Barnaby mostly used it for chores (when his mama wasn't paying attention, ofc - it's still a bad habit in her eyes) and entertainment purposes.

how it works: on its own, it doesn't do much when burned. it's not like illusions will waft out of the pipe's bowl, or that sniffing it will give someone hallucinations. in order for it to work properly, the user has to inhale properly, form the Intent of what the illusion should be / look like / behave, then purposefully blow the smoke out with that thought firmly in mind. the reach of the smoke depends on the force of Intent, and the intensity depends on the amount inhaled. those that breathe it in / are surrounded by it will see hallucinations of whatever Barnaby - or whoever the user is - wants them to! it can be literally anything! whether or not the target is fooled depends entirely on the individual, but the herb is potent enough that most are convinced that what they "see" is real (auditory hallucinations only occur if the target breathes in the smoke)

upsides: this form of magic is great for distractions, cover, deescalation, and that kind of thing. if needed, Barnaby could stop a fight with one exhale! it's a pretty powerful trick! it also means that Barnaby has built up a tolerance to illusion magic over the years, so where most of the party would be tricked, Barnaby would be unfazed. the only one with total immunity to the form of magic is Wally!

downsides: if Barnaby uses too much in too short of a time, it will get to him. and since he breathes in the largest amount - undiluted at that - it can fuck him up! using it sparingly / using repeated small amounts doesn't do anything. the most it will do is make him feel slightly untethered, but he has an easy time ignoring it / shaking it off.

in mild cases of the magic getting to him, it's like a bad trip. his proprioception is messed with (basically he gets uncharacteristically clumsy & off-balance), he feels like he's falling, anxiety spikes, and his vision is just... off! there are blind spots (im talking actual blind spots, not spots of black), things are moving in ways that they shouldn't, he has mild auditory hallucinations. the others can help ground him by talking to him, touching him, and confirming what's real and what isn't.

in bad cases, it's like that but 10 times worse. on top of all of the previous symptoms being worsened, he gets extremely vivid hallucinations, and they're very often not fun! it's a simultaneous feeling of dying, going insane, and not knowing what the fuck is going on. Barnaby loses sense of where he is, who's where, what's happening. he can get lost in the hallucinations - he has no way to know that they aren't real. in these terrible trips, no one can really help him. they can't get through the hallucinations, and if they do, the magic morphs Barnaby's perception of them and they end up adding to the effects. honestly the best thing for him is to let him rest somewhere with as little sensory input as possible & leave him be until he starts to come down. physical contact does help, since Barnaby understands on an instinctive level that illusions can't touch him, but it doesn't help half as much as it does w/ the mild trips. and again, the presence of someone can make the hallucinations worse.

so! suffice to say! he doesn't like using the herb all that often, and it's why he Stays Out Of It unless absolutely needed. he has two pouches of the herb - one with the strong stuff, reserved for emergencies / one with just a tiny bit of it mixed in with Barnaby's own personal blend for recreational/everyday use. (he also has an emergency tobacco stash in his pack, but that's only for when he's completely out of his usual blend <3)

extra lil scribble that didn't make it into the lil doodle post... i broke his wrist...

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

HI HI DOVE!!!! :D you were so thorough with the rules of your event (I NEVER THOUGHT TO ASK PEOPLE FOR BACKUPS HELP?????????)

but ofc ofc you can probably guess who i was going to ask for LMAO but i promise my backups will NOT BE FOR AZUL PROMISE!!!!

i was immediately intrigued by the prompt "By the babbling brook" so i would like to request azul and that!! maybe friends to lovers vibes because im a suck for that??? AS FOR BACKUPS HMMM

"Caught in the rain" WITH VIL WOULD BE SO CUTE :((( I CAN IMAGINE HIM BEING CONCERNED FOR HIS APPEARANCE??? even though his makeup is probably waterproof LMAO

"Stargazing" with trey sniffle cough cough.,.,.,. it would be so soothing AND ACTUALLY I DONT REQUEST TREY CONTENT LIKE EVER EVEN THOUGH HES MY BESTIE?!?!?!?

so yea atcually i think ALL of these are cute so i dont even really have backups LMAO JUST WRITE WHICHEVER ONE STRIKES YOU!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH OF HOSTING TIHS DOVE IM GOING TO BE SCREAING IN YOUR REBLOGS WHENEVER YOU POST WHWAHAWHAWHWAH <3333

By the Babbling Brook; Azul Ashengrotto

Content; Gender-neutral reader, friends-to-lovers, a smidgen of hurt/comfort

Word Count; 700+

AN: Auburn, why did you give me so many good ideas /hj. But I hope you enjoy your Azul. Everyone coming for the Fish Mafia content (3 more are lined up). As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

You sat on a large boulder sitting in the middle of a shallow brook, dipping your legs in as an attempt to try and escape the heat of the day. Even from under the shade of the willow tree from above, the heat and humidity was still oppressive. And the chirping of cicadas only underscored the fact. And sitting on the boulder just a few centimetres away was Azul, pant legs rolled up to his knees and his legs in the water as well, trying to cool off as well.

The two of you had arranged a day to hang out, since the Coral Sea isn’t really the most hospitable place for anyone without fins or gills. So Azul had agreed to set aside some time in his schedule so that he could spend some time with you, and this time there was no Grim or nosey Leech twins to interrupt you. But why, why did today have to be so insufferably hot.

“Why couldn’t we go someplace cooler,” he groaned, pushing his hair out of his face. “Somewhere with… air conditioning?” At least the water was cold, which helped break the heat a little bit. Plus the shade from the willow tree kept the harshness of the midday sun at bay.

You flicked some water at him, and chortled at the dirty look he gave you. “Just wanted to check this out, see where it led,” you say in a chipper tone. You slipped down the boulder a bit, getting further into the water. The brook was shallow, only reaching about mid-calf.

Your hand brushed against Azul’s and he could have sworn it felt like an electric shock rather than a soft caress. “It led to a tree and some rocks,” he sighed.

You hummed, splashing a bit in the water as the stark coldness of the brook was finally breaking the sticky heat. “Well I think it led to an opportunity.”

“For what?” He didn’t really want to say it, but today, other than the Sevens forsaken heat, was nice. The two of you had just walked together, and had some nice conversations that melted into each other seamlessly.

A mischievous smile spread across your face and you splashed Azul in the face. “For that,” you laugh.

Azul spat out water, and the faintest bit of ink, blue flushing his cheeks. But his brief flash of anger mixed with embarrassment of being bested faded just as quickly as it had arisen. You looked so happy, sitting in the brook with the swaying branches of willows behind you. And Azul felt a lump form in his throat. They look… ethereal.

You noticed him staring and waved a hand in front of his face. “Helloooo,” you called, “ear- erm, Twisted Wonderland to Azul? You good?”

“YES,” he sputtered, getting up from the boulder and trying to get back to the banks of the brook. “I am perfectly fine, Prefect!” But the slight crack in his voice betrayed him. He was very much not okay, no. Why did he feel like there were butterflies in his stomach? Why did he feel weird around you? Why do you make me feel like this? Like a fish out of water?

You got up and followed him, a few paces behind. “I can tell when you’re lying, you know? Come on Azul, be honest with me. We’re friends after all.”

We’re friends after all. That line, why did it hurt so much? “I’m not lying,” he could feel you behind him, but he dared not to look back.

“Now you’re just lying to yourself,” you huff. “Come on, Azul, just say it.”

“Say what?!” He turned around and looked at you. The dappled light, and glittering water behind you only made the lump in his throat grow even more. “That I love you-” He snapped his mouth shut and held his breath.

That I love you. That’s what the feeling was. Love.

Your eyes widened, and you opened and closed your mouth, trying to decide what to say. “Well,” you say softly, “I love you too, Azul. I have for a while now.”

And who would have guessed that seeing where the brook led would lead to this. Two friends confessing that there was indeed something more between them.