#nobody likes you when you're like this but you make good points

[shalotttower]

Will-o'-the-wisp

Title: Will-o'-the-wisp

Fandom: Hunter x Hunter

Characters: Chrollo Lucilfer x Reader (female)

Summary: Reader encouters fae!Chrollo and breaks some rules along the way.

Word count: 1700+

Notes: yandere!Chrollo, fae!Chrollo, abduction, manipulation, AU, modern setting with fae, Chrollo is charming af and a bit creepy as usual, Reader is doomed long before they know it and slightly depressed

You walk home the same way every day, like many people do. There's comfort in routines. Comfort and security which you crave. The familiar routes, the repetitive programs on TV and the books you've read a million times. You like to know what happens next and hate surprises.

The fourteen-year-old you wouldn't approve.

Maybe even express a little pity, because she always thought you two were destined for an adventure, like in fantasy books you used to devour one after another. Every free second was spent reading or dreaming, but life went on and adventures didn't happen. The girl grew older, a lot more careful and a lot less hopeful.

When you finish work, it's usually around six. Your adult self is practical and prefers to save money on the bus, besides, every other time you take it, you end up having to stand, squeezed between people. It's not worth the frustration; a fifteen minute walk isn't that long and the crime rate in the area is low.

There's a small grove nearby that nobody has bothered to turn into a park. The residents made their own paths in time, put a few signs so the joggers wouldn't get lost, but that's it. Once or twice a month you stroll through there, picking up trash left on the side. People make you want to move to the woods altogether sometimes.

That's how the day starts or ends — with crossing a bridge which connects the grove to your neighbourhood.

And this is where you see him for the first time.

The man looks so out of place among the rustic wooden railings and rushing water below. Nobody wears this kind of clothes here. Expensive and elegant, something that blends well in a big city. They don't stare at passersby like he does either. You hate when people do that ─ block already narrow spaces by just stopping midway. Or groups who spread across the entire sidewalk.

"Excuse me," you say politely. Polite is good. Polite can be used as a shield and always makes you look better than you are. "I need to pass."

He smiles, then moves aside. "Of course."

His face is exactly what you imagine when thinking of pleasant: beautiful grey eyes with long lashes, pointed chin and a strange mix of delicate and sharp edges.

"Thank you."

The smile widens. "You're welcome."

---

It's time to accept that you've grown into an average person with a simple desire to live in comfort. Dreaming isn't your strength anymore, the last book you picked up was several years ago. Movies bore you fifteen minutes in, even if everybody else praises them; the idea of a relationship seems exhausting.

You do enjoy gardening.

Growing tomatoes is a far cry from distant fictional lands, but they taste nice with a pinch of salt.

The condo you live in doesn't have enough space and light, so you chose a small patch of ground in the grove to start a garden. A few tomato plants and some herbs like chives and basil. It might be illegal, yet nobody has come to yell at you. Most people don't pay attention to what's happening here, as long as you don't damage the trees or leave trash.

You water and prune, weed, add fertilizer if needed. There're some flowers too; mother told you that marigolds scare pests away from veggies and keep the soil healthy. They're pretty, little orange spots.

---

You find a crystal at you patch. Azure would be too bland to describe its color ─ maybe more like a mix of cerulean and moon stone. It's round in shape, polished so nicely that the outlines of your face are reflected in the surface. Did a magpie bring it? Or a kid? The thought of someone poking around your garden makes you frown. You hope they didn't step on your basil.

The stone is heavy and cool. You turn it around, entranced, before stuffing it into the pocket of your jeans. Maybe you can ask the neighbours' kids about it later.

"Would you look at that," you mutter and bend to inspect a tomato plant. Two green fruit, each no bigger than your knuckle, hang there, sprouted over the weekend. "Hello, my pretties."

---

You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. It's past 1 AM, you should sleep; instead, you keep twisting the stone in the moonlight.

You asked kids from around here, but nobody claimed it.

Maybe it's a lucky charm, you've had a wonderful day. Got a call from your cousin in the morning, she has't contacted you in a long while and it was nice to catch up. After lunch, the resource manager praised your work, then an elderly lady from the store complimented your cardigan.

At a certain angle, the stone seems almost glowing. A summer night sky condensed into a tiny orb. Your fingers trace its smooth surface without much thought until eventually it drops onto the pillow by your side.

You don't notice when exactly you fall asleep.

It's the strangest dream you've ever seen.

Gone is the condo building with its stuffy kitchenette and old pipes that constantly rumble. Instead, you feel damp grass underneath your feet. Wind brushes through the hem of your nightdress, carrying the scents of rain and moss. So many shades of black and raven blue swirl together that you barely recognize a signpost nearby. It's the grove, but you've never seen it like this, as dark as it can be only at night.

It's uncomfortable to stand barefoot, with a chill creeping up your legs.

After a while your fingers touch the rough bark of a nearby tree to get a sense of direction, and you start walking, because there isn't anything else to do.

There's the bridge, you think. If you just get to the bridge, the rest will be simple.

You're walking there, or that's what you think when a small ball of light appears right before your nose.

Fireflies don't glow blue. It doesn't falter, doesn't flicker, coming up closer then farther like a pendulum. There's something uncanny and fragile about it. For a second you forget everything and stand mesmerized, until it starts moving.

Through the trees, past the branches, onwards.

It's more instinctual than anything ─ you don't want to be left here alone again, so you follow. Light is good, darkness isn't. The ground becomes more uneven as you go, the grass changes to moss, but you can barely register anything at this point apart from that lonely glow. It halts at times as if making sure you're keeping up.

Is that a clearing ahead? Your eyes hurt from trying to focus.

The blue dot continues to float, never speeding up, never falling behind.

Then it disappears.

No. Not disappears ─ settles on the tip of a pale finger.

There's your tomato patch, your plants, the empty box that you forgot to take back to the condo.

But it's impossible.

Your garden should be not very far from the border, yet it feels like you've walked through half of the grove by now.

Why is he here?

"It took you a while," he says, the stranger from the bridge whose eyes made you pause before you caught yourself. "I was waiting, my dear."

Maybe you shouldn't ask. Maybe the wisest thing would be to turn around and run. You step back and trip on a root which somehow snuck between the moss. He catches your hand before you fall and doesn't let go. Instead his thumb caresses your skin in leisurely strokes.

There's a faint scent of lilies coming from him, and something else. Something heavy, equally sweet that lingers on the edge of cloying and enticing.

Smells aren't supposed to be so strong in dreams.

"I need to go."

"Where?"

This simple question asked in an equally plain tone makes you falter. What does he mean 'where'?

"Home," you say softly and try to free your hand again without success. The man leans in close enough that you can see his face, illuminated by that blue light.

"And where is home?"

"I-" you swallow. "I have to go."

He releases you with surprising ease; you don't waste any time rushing towards the path. The long walk has exhausted you, and the lack of light makes it difficult to tell which turns to take. You stumble multiple times. The hem of your nightdress catches a few twigs. You sprint past the trees, past the low bushes along the familiar trail, and it's there, suddenly in front of you: the wooden bridge.

Out of breath, you grab the railing. And then open your eyes on the same side where you started.

How?

Again and again, you dash across it, yet every time there's a single step left to cross over the stream, the view shifts. Your feet land at the beginning of the bridge. On the ninth time when it's impossible to run any longer, you press your forehead to the railing. Every breath feels short and raspy.

"That's enough, dear."

"What is this?" You grip the planks with trembling hands. "I don't understand. Why can't I-"

A coat falls over your shoulders; you clutch at it mindlessly, because it's warm and you're shaking all over.

"You thanked me. Claimed my land, charmingly audacious of you. Such care and love, right under my nose."

There's no malice in his voice. Gently, finger by finger, he uncurls the tight grip of your hand. The stone is there, cerulean blue like summer sky condensed into a tiny orb.

"Took my gift and kept it close to your heart."

It takes some effort but eventually you manage to speak. "I didn't," you whisper urgently, despite the shiny proof in your palm. "I didn't know! Take it back."

"I'm afraid it's too late for that."

"I didn't know!"

He lifts you in his arms when your knees give out and you sink to the ground, still gripping that damned stone. His coat carries the same distinct scent of lilies and heavy sweetness. The sceneries you dreamed of when younger pop in your head, like old postcards covered with dust, of mystical beings hidden from human eye, fantastical places no one has seen, grand adventures where heroes defy impossible odds and come out victorious.

Those were tales for the brave and imaginative. You're neither.

"It doesn't matter. The land claims you," he says. "And so do I."

[gothamite-rambler]

When caught in a hostage situation by wannabe twitch streamers and can't be Batman

Bruce Wayne attended the gala alone; nobody wanted to go with him, and now he found himself with a gun aimed at his head. It was just another Tuesday in Bruce's life. He knew there was nothing he could do except kneel on the ground and wait for his kids to rescue him.

Bruce (in his head): I should've stayed home; then I could've saved the day. But no, I had to show up! Damn it, the things I do to keep my identity separate from my hero life.

Bruce (out loud): Can you hurry this up? Some of us have places to be.

Lennie, the goon leader, wore a white, expressionless face mask that only added to the absurdity of the situation. He sucked his teeth, visibly annoyed at Bruce's indifference to having a gun pointed at his head. It was as if he were trying to put on a show of intimidation, but the lack of reaction from his hostage only served to frustrate him further.

Lennie: We’re almost done setting up the livestream, geez!

Bruce (sarcastically): Oh yes, let’s make sure the whole world sees a bunch of no-name thugs holding a fancy party hostage. That’s smart. Truly brilliant. You're a real trailblazer.

Lennie: Yeesh, you don’t gotta be rude.

Bruce (dryly): Am I being rude? I’m just trying to maintain my composure here while you’re aiming a gun at my head. A little nervousness is understandable, don’t you think?

As if to prove his point, Lennie raised the gun away from Bruce’s head in a moment of misplaced confidence.

Lennie: Please, I’m an expert shooter—

Just then, Lennie's finger slipped, and the gun went off, shooting across the room and hitting a statue, which promptly shattered—sending shards flying and making a woman at the party scream in terror.

Lennie (shouting): I told you to stop screaming!

Bruce glared at the man for a second, then turned back to staring ahead, internally counting the seconds ticking by like they were days as he waited for literally any of his children or even Kate to arrive to save him.

Lennie: All right, I’ll just hold the gun at my side and grip the back of your neck. Don’t do anything stupid; the gun is still loaded.

Bruce (indifferent): You’ve shot it twice already, so that doesn’t bode well for your "expert shooter" credentials. But hey, start the stream for your three followers to enjoy.

Lennie (enraged): Hey! We are on the come-up! Oz, is everything ready to go?

Oz, a blonde man in a blue bandana with eye slits cut into the fabric, checked the wireless conference cam that sat on a nearby chair and glanced at his phone.

Oz (hesitantly): Um, yeah, I think?

Lennie: Cool, start it.

Oz: It’s already running.

Lennie: What? For how long?

Oz (pointing at Bruce): Well, since he mentioned we were using Twitch for our heist.

Lennie: God damn it! I told you to wait for my signal before hitting the stream button!

Oz: I thought you’d be more professional when I started the feed. What did you want the signal to be, “Cool, start it”?

Lennie: …

An old man at the gala couldn’t help but chuckle as he realized that was the signal.

Old Man: Good thing you’ve got guns, because your performance so far is downright terrible!

Bruce (aggravated tone): You must’ve failed clown college, didn’t you? This is your backup plan? Want to look like a joke in a different way?

Lennie: Shut up! Fuck, you’re just like my parents! Lucy!

Lucy strolled over, holding a similar gun and wearing a light purple ski mask.

Lucy: Yes, babe?

Lennie: Lucy, I told you not to call me that during this!

Lucy: Sorry, baby! I mean Kenny—oops, sorry, Lennie.

Lennie groaned, burying his face in his hands.

Lennie (whispering to his girlfriend): Just stand next to the rich guy while I read the ransom. You’re better with guns.

Lucy (cheerfully): Okay!

Lucy walked over to Bruce, lightly gripping the back of his collar while aiming the gun at his upper shoulder.

Lucy: Hi, Mr. Wayne!

Bruce: Don’t chat with me right now. Why are you aiming the gun at my shoulder?

Lucy: Gotta start lower and work my way up, you know?

Bruce: That actually makes sense in a messed-up way.

Lucy: Thanks! Lennie, you starting soon?

Lennie (covering his eyes in frustration): I need a fucking minute… Okay, Oz, get the stream going!

Oz (confused): Again?

Lennie: What do you mean "again"?

Oz: The one I started two minutes ago is still streaming. We’ve got viewers too! Do you want me to end that? Why? You’re already wasting time.

Lennie clasped his hands together, feeling the pressure as his plan began to crumble, and Bruce—ever the thorn in his side—wasn’t letting up.

Bruce: You’re doing a terrible job if you wanted an audience’s opinion.

Lennie (angry shouting): I’d shoot you right now if I could! I have to talk to the actual audience because if I have to talk to that smug asshole one more time, I’m going to beat your ass.

Bruce: That’s rich, coming from you.

Lennie growled, huffing as he tried to rein in his temper. He turned to the camera, his irritation palpable, and prepared to begin the ransom speech he had memorized.

Lennie (clears throat): Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the most glamorous hostage situation of the decade! If you think this is a PR disaster, you're absolutely correct!

Bruce (with a sarcastic edge): Wow, did you actually memorize that?

Lennie held up his index finger, then pulled a white bandana out of his pocket and stormed over to Bruce, tying the scarf across the man's mouth to silence him. Bruce rolled his eyes dramatically as Lennie turned back to the camera, as if he were the star of a reality show gone wrong.

As the wannabe streamer continued his speech, Stephanie, Tim, and Duke were perched atop a nearby building, close to the glass rooftop where the gala was taking place. They waited for the signal from Nightwing, who was in a different location, to ambush the kidnappers—but for now, they were watching the stream. Their reactions varied widely.

Tim let out a long, frustrated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Tim: Yep, yep.

Stephanie was practically doubled over with laughter.

Stephanie: I can’t believe the guy in the white mask wasted two bullets! What a dumb ox with some serious daddy issues!

Duke, sporting a worried expression, chimed in.

Duke: I don’t know what scares me more—his incompetence accidentally getting Bruce shot or the fact that this stream has a concerningly high number of viewers!

Stephanie nodded, still chuckling.

Stephanie: Right? It’s like a bizarre comedy show!

Tim: I definitely recognize the ring leader by his grating voice. We took social psychology together at CUNY. Well, we took that one class before he dropped out to pursue... whatever this nonsense is. This missing chromosome was a jerk back then and hasn't changed.

Duke (raising his left eyebrow): He has a YouTube channel where he harasses people but calls it "pranks"?

Tim: No, it’s a TikTok page!

Stephanie burst out laughing harder, shaking her head in disbelief.

Stephanie: This is too good!

Tim: This is going to be an interesting mission.

[omg-snakes]

Ugh my spotted python bit me today. Hes my first snake and I feel bad he’s getting all my newbie mistakes but he’s done really well with handling and this is the first time I just don’t know what happened? I know they don’t bite out of the blue but I had taken him outside and he was very relaxed in my arms with his head on my shoulder, I stepped off the porch so he could feel some sun and made sure to keep his head in the shade and after a few seconds he moves around to the front of me and just slams my lip. Obviously it’s not bad I’m just so frustrated and feel like every step forward has like three back. And maybe he just doesn’t want to be handled that would be ok but he seems so good and happy to explore most of the time. I have looked into choice based handling but he never wants to wake up and come out of his hides during the day but he always is relaxed once he is out.

Aw, I'm so sorry you got tagged. That sounds like it was really jarring. Please don't be discouraged, though. Snake keeping is a journey, not a destination, and though it may feel like you're not making good progress, every experience is an opportunity to learn and grow with your pet.

Spotted pythons are nocturnal, so he may have been startled by the sudden sunshine and warmth and either mistook you for a predator or a snack. Bites are disheartening (and a bite in the face doubly so!) but it's part of snake ownership. We will all take a chomp at some point.

I once had my leucistic Texas rat snake on my lap while I was reading and I guess he fell asleep at some point, and when I moved my arm I must have startled him awake because he freaked out and tagged me out of nowhere. I was shocked and a bit hurt in the moment, and I totally get how you're feeling. It's nobody's fault. These are animals and sometimes they react to stimuli we think are pretty benign in ways we didn't expect!

If you're going to implement choice-based handing, it'll likely only happen after the sun has gone down. It might be good to try to interact on his terms for a while, as late in the day as you can and in low-light situations. He's less likely to be a butt if he's up and active during the part of his natural rhythm when he's most alert.

I mean, imagine having somebody pull you out of bed at 3am and shine a flashlight with the power of the sun at you. Even if it wasn't right in your eyes, you might be a touch irritable!

I hope that the two of you can find some common ground and that you are able to build more confidence as a keeper. Forgive yourself when you make mistakes, as you so quickly forgave him when he bit you. I know spotted pythons are considered a decent beginner species but I've definitely found them more challenging than some of the other options.

At the end of the day you're just two completely different animals trying to understand each other, and that's pretty cool.

[oshinohoshi]

Oshi no Ko chapter 166 thoughts - the end of all things

So uh... the only positive thing I can say here besides the beautiful Ai art is that I felt sad reading the page where Miyako was hugging Ruby. Everything else left me completely empty

This chapter is either:

A) A self-aware ending meant to show that life is suffering and the idol industry will suck out your soul if you let it

B) Outsourced to someone who skimmed OnK for 30 seconds on Wikipedia before putting pen to paper

It has to be A, right? You can't tell me that the same author wrote both of these pages without the right being ironic

But I don't think so because big brained Akane is the one clumsily narrating this crappy montage masquerading as a real ending

Aqua died for nothing. His sister is now a soulless cog in the idol machine

Ruby is mimicking Ai's speech - "Lies are an outstanding kind of love... We pile on the lies and no matter how hard things get, we sing and act happy onstage. It's a fun job!" But she forgot the rest of it: "Only, I'd like the 'being happy' part to be real. Nobody notices, but we have hearts and lives of our own. Happiness as a mother. Happiness as an idol. Normally you'd have to pick one, but I want both. Ai Hoshino is a greedy girl"

Ai wasn't only a misunderstood girl who worked hard to please her fans. That was a big part of her story but she also broke the rules to create her own family, her own happiness

Ruby, on the other hand, seems to have no real desires anymore, she's just following a path she believes her mother and Aqua paved for her. Never mind that Aqua only wanted it in the end because she wanted it and Ai just wanted her kids to be happy

You can tell that Akasaka is patting himself on the back for making a cyclical narrative where Ruby becomes Ai 2.0 by being commodified, scrutinized, and idolized like Ai was

But it's such a flimsy parallel when it comes to the theme of lies because lying to hide your grief =/= "lies are love" which was the only way Ai knew how to frame her genuine desire to love

And Ai's "I love you" to her kids was true whereas Ruby has swallowed her own lie that being an idol is fun even when you're just doing it to outrun your pain

What this chapter showed us is that the meaning of Ruby's life is to be Ruby of B Komachi and she was put on Earth to sing pop songs. Because that's what Ai did, right? If I remember correctly, her final words were "I'm so glad I got to be an idol #blessed"

My God was the Dome concert soulless. Miyako and Ichigo crying happy tears is a punch to the gut. Doesn't Miyako know her daughter is still hurting?

The last scene is so fucking depressing

Ruby, are you okay? Blink twice if you still remember your life outside the idol industry!

The last two pages work really well as horror. She has a brilliant smile but you can tell that she's dead inside. She's got more merch on her table than photos. Why doesn't she have a corkboard of family photos? Although I more or less have this Ai plushie and it's pretty cute so I'll give this a pass because it's hilarious

I guess the takeaway here is to live for others and life is painful so just grin and bear it. Oh yeah, and inspire other young women to join an industry where they get to act happy and lose their humanity. Cool

I mean I get that it's supposed to be about moving on with your life even while grieving and that's a good message, sure, but Aka's insistence on using the word "lies" multiple times as if saying it makes it make sense ruins the whole thing

The most insane part is that this chapter is a wholehearted endorsement of the lies sold by the entertainment/idol industry

I haven't even said anything about anyone besides Ruby because what's the point? Aka didn't have time to do justice to any of the characters I grew to love

It's clear something went wrong with the timeline of wrapping up OnK. No artist wants to execute a final chapter like this. I'm convinced the film reel edges are Aka and Mengo's way of telling the reader, "we know this is a shitty clips show so don't @ us on Twitter about it"

But it's so much worse than that. Aka really decided to tear to shreds everything he worked so hard on for 4 years. Damn

This is my favorite manga and I'll always love that it gave me Ai, my most beloved character of all time, but this leaves an extremely bitter aftertaste. It's really hard to believe that the same person who wrote vol 1 wrote this.

OnK has been pretty important to me. Reading weekly, chatting with fans, and reaching dangerous levels of Ai brain rot has actually been a helpful distraction. TBH I've been a little too invested in it but sometimes you need escapism. So it's crazy that I'm kind of glad it's over.

But this is why fanfic, fanart, and your own headcanons exist. In another universe, this manga wrapped up beautifully and I was depressed for weeks because I couldn't look forward to it anymore. In this universe, at least we're all suffering together here at the end of all things.

And at least the little Hoshino family is still adorable. Too bad Ai is dead, Aqua is dead, and Ruby desperately needs grief counseling. But NEVER MIND. Look at Ai's smile and the twins' faces. This was the Oshi no Ko I really loved.

[luvvyouforever]

okay i love x-men 97 so much, so glad someone writes for that. Can I request scott summers x reader nsfw headcanons and how he wold be with his partner 18+ wise

you absolutely can <3

nsfw headcanons : scott summers (cyclops) x reader

content: nsfw content mdni 18+, mentions of dominance, lingerie, shower sex, domestic life, oral, etc

^^ he was so crazy in this gif. no, but have you met my wife? #needthat

𝜗𝜚 scott is such a passionate lover. he likes devoting all of his time and energy to you. when you're with the team in a fight, his focus has to be on everyone, but the minute you're alone with him in the bedroom, it might as well just be the two of you alone in the whole wide universe.

𝜗𝜚 i think he naturally takes control in the bedroom, but isn't a dom in the traditional sense. it's more about him guiding the night along and making decisions about what to do next. he'll gently manhandle you into new positions and flip you around depending on what he wants to do next. is always open to input from you, however. if you're begging to be ate out, who is he to deny you?

𝜗𝜚 he's also intuitive, seemingly knowing what you're asking of him before you can even put it into words. he can gauge how you're feeling that day and will, in seconds, prepare to cater the rest of the day to your needs. bad day? he knows that he needs to let you be a pillow princess. angry and frustrated? he lets you guide him where you want him and feeds into your urgent energy.

𝜗𝜚 sometimes, everybody is frustrating him and nobody is listening cough cough logan and he needs to be more dominant. in these moods, he's firm with you and likes making you slowly fall apart through the night. he loves getting you to the point where you're so sweet and compliant.

𝜗𝜚 the best way to make scott melt in these situations? look up at him with needy eyes, bite your lip, then breath out a soft "yes, sir." sometimes he just really needs it.

𝜗𝜚 sometimes, though, he's had that kind of tiring day and this is when there's little to dynamic between the two of you. it's soft, loving missionary or he's leaned against the comfortable bed with you riding him.

𝜗𝜚 since he can't fully see what you look like without the bright red visor on, he likes when things you're wearing have some kind of soft texture to them which applies to lingerie. wear something soft and silky which he can run his hands on and he'll fold.

𝜗𝜚 loooooves shower sex. you'll coax him into the steamy enclosed space and brush your body against him and suddenly your back is pushed against the wall, the warm water is enveloping the two of you, and he's pounding into you, strong arms supporting your weight.

𝜗𝜚 one of his biggest turn-ons is seeing you all domestically. he's already needy waking up to you in your shared bed, and then you cook breakfast together and you have this cute apron wrapped around you, and then you're smiling at him while you wash the dishes while he dries them, and then you're being dragged back to the bedroom giggly. god forbid you get pregnant.

𝜗𝜚 praise kink! please tell him that he's doing a great job. he doesn't receive nearly enough recognition for what he does for the x-men and he'll blush when you praise him for normal things throughout the day. whisper just how good he's making you feel as he fucks you and his thrusts will get erratic or rushed.

some more random, short headcanons:

𝜗𝜚 boob man. wear a low cut dress when he takes you on a date.

𝜗𝜚 loves feeling your hands run along his abs. especially if you have long nails.

𝜗𝜚 also loves feeling your hands tangle themselves into his hair.

𝜗𝜚 is sooo romantic w it. will absolutely put rose petals on the bed when it's your anniversary.

𝜗𝜚 loves oral, giving it but especially receiving it. he's such a sucker for feeling your lips wrapped around him.

𝜗𝜚 probably sometimes too scared to make your sex a little more kinky. will run it by you a hundred times before trying something.

𝜗𝜚 when he's indulged in a little alcohol, his inhibitions are gone. very very very rare moments but very very very fun.

𝜗𝜚 he gets sooo flustered when you send him pictures while he's gone, and he'll never ask for them, but you can tell when he gets home just how much he loved getting them.

𝜗𝜚 is so incredibly sweet during aftercare. will dote on you and ask if everything felt good and offer you water and run you a bath, anything you want.

𝜗𝜚 doesn't know how hot he is when he's leading the x-men. like imagine the scene in the first ep of x-men 97 when he lands on the ground with his power and says "to me, my x-men," and you are all over him when you get home but he doesn't get why. he's just doing what he should as a leader.

shoo, i need a scott summers.

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.

[vexingvorta]

Im not a fan of every argument made here on either side, so first I'll get a few things out of the way;

1, that abuse victims often go on to be abusers themselves if they don't put in the work necessary to heal from their own abuse, that's what people are talking about when they refer to the CYCLE of abuse. To deny that is... Also uncomfortable. Being a victim of abuse does not make you exempt from abusing other people. 2, I wish we'd stop equating toxic with abusive because there is a difference. 3, i don't think autistic coding is really a fair defense of said toxic traits I'm gonna be real. There's nothing wrong with headcanons and projection but just to focus on what actually happened in the series without using headcanon to excuse harmful behavior. I don't know what traits are being referred to as "autistic coded" here so honestly I'm not gonna touch that with a ten foot pole and just focus on what we see;

Its hard for people to accept, but abuse does not happen on accident. Abuse is an intentional choice one makes. And over all, no, Ford isn't abusive. He, throughout the series and due to a combination of his self-centeredness and being a victim of abuse (hell, his self-centeredness was weaponized against him as part of the abuse) was absolutely toxic for most of the time we've seen him.

The argument that he abused Fiddleford is so stupid I'm not even going to acknowledge it. The thing with Stan is, he frankly wasn't around him enough to actually abuse him. A one time event is not abuse. A single fight is not abuse. Abuse is long and drawn out and, as I said earlier, intentional. And, like what was already pointed out, Ford was in a bad state. He'd reached the point of Bill going fully mask off, so to speak, and the abuse now being at it's worst. He was fully isolated and sleep deprived and it made him crazy. Yes, his unwillingness to destroy the journals was deeply selfish and another mark of how self-centered he is. It's the definition of irrational. But, once again, he wasn't in a spot where he could think rationally. (Granted, even if he was, I still don't think he would've been willing to destroy the journals because his self importance and self centeredness is one of his biggest flaws and an important part of his character)

The closest Ford ever comes to being abusive is, yes, with dipper. He starts telling him a lot of the same things we know Bill told him at the start of their partnership; you're special, we need each other, these other people are only holding you back. Nobody understands you like I do. When Dipper expresses concern for Mabel, Ford is immediately dismissive. He looks at Dipper and all he sees is himself, and all he sees in Mabel is Stan. He is the one who pushed that dichotomy, because he really couldn't think outside of himself.

His greatest flaw is that he's self centered and self obsessed. But the thing is, is that he learns his lesson. It takes literal apocalypse to get there, but he does learn and he does reflect and he does apologize and try to do better. He course corrects. Gravity falls, ultimately, is about family bonds and breaking the cycle of abuse. Ford almost continued that cycle with Dipper, but he stopped before any permanent damage could be done, both to their relationship, and to Dipper and Mabels. He fixed his relationship with Stan.

He did in fact have abusive tendencies and toxic traits but ultimately he put in the work to fix them and be better. Ford is a well written and well balanced character. He displays how someone even with good intentions can unintentionally fall back into cruel and toxic habits, and can start repeating the abuse they were put through. He also shows that you can come back from that. That starting down that path doesn't mean you have to stay there. That it's possible to heal and get better.

None of what I'm saying is an indictment of Ford's character. The opposite: he is complex and well written and imperfect, and I love him and his character arc. He could've been so easily made into an irredeemable villain, a no good bastard who's just horrible and abusive. He had all those pieces laid out. But the choice and skill to actually have him go through the motions of falling into abusive tendencies and then getting better is amazing on Alex Hirsch's part, and a testament to his ability to write deep and complex characters.

(also this is just kind of my own aside but the use of "autistic-coded" as like an excuse for how a character acts is really annoying to me for a number of reasons? For one, just off the bat, it's an attempt to make your headcanon sound more canon than it is, but by nature of being a headcanon, it's not really a fair or valid argument here. Second, there are ways to make a legitimate argument and analysis of a characters actions in canon and debate criticisms of their actions without saying "they're autism coded so actually you must hate autistic people", like it's okay, you're allowed to make a legitimate argument. Also, "character did shitty thing because they're autistic" isn't the win you think it is, because let's be real, you're either implying that they have no autonomy over their actions because of their autism, or that you think autism makes people shitty or toxic, neither of which is the win you think it is. Ironically lack of media literacy applies in both cases here, just for different reasons. Okay side rant over, just wanted to throw that out there because holy hell it's something that is used so much in fandom and it gets grating after a while.)

The tldr here is that Ford isn't an abuser. He was abused, he had toxic and abusive traits, but he put in the work to heal and better himself. He's by no means perfect and that's okay, he's a good character, and he's actually trying to be better.

Today in "I hate autistic-coded abuse victims", this shitty take.

Ford did not abuse Stan. He did not abuse Fiddleford. He did not try to drive a wedge in Dipper and Mabel's relationship (he was doing what he thought was best for Dipper and thought Mabel would be fine).

Just admit you hate autistic people and have no compassion for abuse victims. And admit you have no media literacy.

Also, calling a canonical abuse victim an abuser is...uncomfortable, to say the least. Especially with how you're just making him out to be abusive for...not handling personal interactions perfectly. You're demonizing autistic traits. And you need to research how abuse can effect people.

(Also, I know Ford's not perfect. But you don't seem to know that he's flawed but ultimately a good person. You just want a "perfect victim" when it comes to abuse victims, and it's obvious)

[brightlotusmoon]

Answer to Why are you a Libertarian? by Ke'Aun

"I feel like I’ve spent a long time insulting Libertarians, so I thought it might be a good idea to explain why I’m Libertarian… ish."

[em0-opossum]

sick of people acting like being alone/lonely = being single. ofc you're allowed to feel like that, I'm aro and could not care less that I don't have a partner so I have no idea what it feels like to have that experience, but god just once I'd like to find poetry and art made by people who know how it feels to have no friends and feel lonely no matter how many people are around you and know that you don't belong no matter where you are

[racke7]

Me vs FF14 part... 2?

It's taken me pretty much three full days of running from cutscene to cutscene. But I've finally reached Heavensward.

And like... on some level? I'm kind of offended?

Like, a part of me genuinely wants to replay the entire game from the start "as something else" (different main-class, different race, different starting-area, whichever), because the dungeon-queuing system is actually really fun when you start to Understand it.

As in, FF14 has somehow made an MMO that has almost eliminated the feeling that it is a level-grind? Partially? It's turned the whole thing into a surprisingly comfortable level of (limited, but genuine) social interaction.

To the point where even someone who isn't obsessively grind-focused like me, can genuinely enjoy themselves. Just queuing up for dungeons, Hunting some bounties, and-...

And then FF14 has so many fucking quests that it literally chokes the life out of the gameplay.

As an example, one of their biggest dungeon-draws (bcs high rewards) is a quest that almost everyone hates playing. Because doing that dungeon means watching literally eighteen minutes of unskippable cutscenes.

And that's with them having reduced the amount of cutscenes in that dungeon, because the players complained so much about them.

Like... I'd be perfectly happy replaying the game from the start with a different character, even knowing that leveling isn't some kind of pain-free thing. But the thought of having to restart the fucking Main-Quest? Of having to spend literal days just running back-and-forth to cutscenes?

I'm currently feeling a bit burned-out as a result of the binge I went on to get here, but I'm pretty damn sure that I wouldn't replay this fucking thing even if you paid me for it.

(And, of course, Heavensward also has a Main-Quest continuation that you have to follow. And now I'm not even allowed to fly everywhere to cut down on the "running back-and-forth"-part of my complaints. Not until they arbitrarily allow me to discover flight for the new areas, by going through even more of the Main-Quest.)

(Not to mention that now I have to go back and do even more Class-quests, with their own cutscenes, in order to unlock a bunch of skills.)

(I'm very fond of the "the church is evil because it doesn't let you fuck dragons"-meme, and I'm very much seeing it. But like... come the fuck on. Why is this MMO a feature-length movie-series? Why can't I just play the game and have fun?)

[thekimspoblog]

Demon trying to feed on my insecurities: "You're a bad driver"

Me: "Of course I am. I hate driving. Going 80 mph surrounded by tons of metal is nerve-wrecking. I try to do it as little as possible. Of course I'm bad at it"

Demon: "You're a bad writer"

Me: "Well that part's simply not true. I never claimed I was the greatest author of my generation, but when I put pen to paper I know what I want to communicate and I usually do it well. If someone isn't impressed with my work, that's unfortunate but they're entitled to their opinion"

Demon: "You're a bad leader"

Me: "Well I don't know about that! I mean there was that one time when... Ok look just because people don't see me as an authority figure doesn't mean... 😠 You know you can be a real asshole, demon!"

[unproduciblesmackdown]

ppl will be explaining how a difference is a difference & not a Deviation from a Superior state, & people who are the ones considered Default Normal (superior) will be like "okay....to be polite....i Might say i consider Some aspects of Some people's existence mere 'difference' & not being less than me...." as like hey i'm a Benevolent god. i still actually get to consider you worse & don't have to "humor" anything that challenges my superiority. if you only want everything to fit into the norm then it will all come back to upholding the norm. thinking of people's analysis of their own realities as equally legimate as being like Obscure, Irrelevant, Superficial & then using that reasoning to justify dismissing them. same as worrying that the [Different Lessers (Others(tm))] as Everywhere = a manifestation of the awareness that, yeah, respecting them as equals Does threaten your norm which is smothering everything everywhere. ppl who need to lock in the idea of Borders around personhood like um Yes they're all delineated separate Identities outside any hierarchy & so i think it's relevant to for some reason push back against "ohh so now Everyone's queer" like why not. why couldn't they be. what if they were. what if queerness was everywhere b/c it's ideological not a cordoned off Alternative Identity that is accommodated by focusing on Love(tm) as the new border around whose existence we might begrudgingly accept at arm's length (i.e. being otherwise "normal"! just imagine swapping out the binary gender (or, deep breath, presumed Private Parts) of one partner in an exclusive romantic lifelong nuclear family marriage, & that is Gay / Trans Rights. still gross but maybe we can do it, as long as they don't talk about it or shove it in our faces or even exist for more than one encounter w/us in our lives b/c what are the odds). evergreen laughing at someone suggesting ableist logic might be embedded in language of past & present b/c it's just So little to ask for that it's irrelevant but it's also So much to ask for that of course i'm not gonna do anything more than pass it along like "this is why i don't take ableism seriously" like yeah it's the disabled randos like it's the individual cringe teens(tm) ruining [the cishets would take Gender seriously otherwise!!!] & that's why you won't think about it or do anything about it & continue being comfortable with the norm & resent that actually their Difference is Less & disability is something worse that ppl "excuse" & all these ways that people are & all these things that they do are funny & weird & inexplicable & etc & one can't possibly be cruising along perpetuating a hierarchy with a sense that you're reasonable, well meaning, kind, etc etc & thus Justified, systemic oppression definitely wants to maximize how uncomfortable & arduous it feels to everyone rather than push to make it more streamlined & rewarding to embrace, or at least accept, whatever superiority over others you're afforded

[batemanofficial]

i saw a tiktok today of somebody's rewritten version of the countdown song and im near inconsolable about it :( it's also stuck in my head so ive been humming end-times-y hymns all day

[powdermelonkeg]

Important rules/tips I've learned as an adult that helped with anxiety

If people are mad at you, it's their responsibility to tell you, not your responsibility to guess

If they're mad at you in secret anyways, they're the ones in the wrong, not you

If people don't like what you're doing, it's their responsibility to tell you

If they say it's fine when it's really not, they're the ones in the wrong, not you

People are allowed to be wrong about you

If they are wrong about you, wait for them to bring it up, because if you try to, you will inevitably overcorrect

Some people are committed to misunderstanding you. You will not win arguments against them. Yes, even if you explain your point of view. They do not care. Drop it

The worst thing that will happen from a first-time offense is being told not to do it again. Maybe with a replacement if you broke something

You can improve relationships and gauge willingness to talk to you by giving compliments. It's like a daily log-in bonus and nobody thinks twice about it

Most things are better after you sleep on them

Most things are better after you have a meal

Most things are better after you shower

Your brain makes up consequences that are irrational. If the worst DOES come to pass and someone acts like they do in your head, they are overreacting, and you are entitled to say "what the fuck"

If your chest hurts after you feel like you've made a social error, that's called rejection-sensitive dysphoria. It means your anxiety is so bad that it's causing you physical pain, which is a good indicator that you're overreacting. Tense yourself, hold it for 20 seconds, let it go, then find a distraction

If you're suddenly angry at someone after you feel like you made a social error, that's also rejection-sensitive dysphoria. You are going to feel annoyed about it for awhile, but being genuinely pissed off is your anxiety trying to find something to blame to take the responsibility off your shoulders, and getting scared because it can't justify itself. Deep breaths, ask yourself how much you ACTUALLY want to be angry at that person, then find a distraction

"Sour grapes" is more healthy for you than stewing. Deciding you don't like someone who's perpetually annoyed with you, won't talk to you, etc. makes letting go of anxiety over them easier

If people don't like you, they will find reasons to be annoyed with you when they otherwise wouldn't. If people do like you, they will find reasons NOT to be annoyed with you when they otherwise would. People do not ping-pong between the two

You DO have to make a conscious choice not to think about something. If you're having trouble circling back to it, say out loud that you're done thinking about it and why. Then find a distraction

When you're upset, part of you is going to want to make false bids for attention (suddenly texting differently, heavy sighs, etc. but when someone asks you about it, you tell them it's nothing). Do not listen to it. You gain nothing from it except more misery

People like to help people they care about. It makes them feel good about themselves

If you think you're insufferable for needing help, see above. Yes, really. They get a serotonin kick from it

If you think you're insufferable for mannerisms you have, you either have to consciously choose not to do them, or accept that they're part of the package that comes with you. Being apologetic about existing does nothing except make you more miserable

If you do things you don't like when you feel meh about it, it makes it easier to do them when you hate it

If you avoid things you don't like when you feel meh about it, it reinforces and magnifies how bad it feels when you hate it

Seriously. Read those last two points again. If you can make yourself make a phone call when you've got nothing to lose, you will slowly lose that panic you get when you have to make a phone call you haven't prepared for. You do have to CONSCIOUSLY take that step

Hobbies that make you care for something get rid of that nagging feeling that you're not doing enough. Go grow some rosemary

If you don't engage with your hobbies regularly, you will feel miserable, and anxiety will spike

Hobbies are things that give you a bit of happiness. They do not have to be organized or named to do that. Go be creative in something. Play with coins. Make up lists. Start a new WIP

No one cares what you look like

If people point out things they don't like about how you look unprompted, they are being rude. You are entitled to say "what the fuck"

People who like you will find you pretty to some degree. Minor things about your appearance go completely unnoticed. Literally, scars and dots and blemishes do not register to someone who likes your company

You looking at yourself in the mirror is 10x more closely than anyone is going to look at you

If you're anxious about your body type, and you're creatively inclined, make/write an oc with that same shape. Give them nice things and make other characters love them. Put them on adventures. You'll start to see yourself in the mirror more kindly

You care about wording and perfect lines/colors way more than anyone who views your work ever will

Sometimes when you're upset, you're going to feel like not eating. Do not do that. Not eating makes you more miserable

Same with things you normally enjoy. Denying yourself helps no one. You are punishing yourself for being sad. Stop it

Both of these will take conscious decision to break the habit of. Make yourself do it anyways, and it will slowly get easier

And again, to reiterate: If someone is mad at you, it is THEIR responsibility to tell you, not your responsibility to guess

[brightlotusmoon]

Answer to Why are you a Libertarian? by Ke'Aun

"I feel like I’ve spent a long time insulting Libertarians, so I thought it might be a good idea to explain why I’m Libertarian… ish."