#nothing you do will hurt a fictional character

[vladdyissues]

I don't know how you do it, Dude, I'm afraid to say that I'm attracted to pompous pep since I know it's wrong to ship a minor and an adult, People are cruel to death, Nobody knows what I like, I hide among the anonymous messages of the internet, Sometimes I see people like you who have their account free mind, People talk very badly about accounts like you, even putting them in places in the fandom to talk badly about them, Fear runs through me, I want to draw pompous Pep, Maybe I'm not attracted to the sexual, But I really feel like it's wrong and it hurts me

You've been at this for a while, right? Your account is full of pompous Pep (I secretly love your account), How did you manage to have the courage to show yourself?, People look at you badly, say bad things, that you are a sick pedophile and that...How do you achieve this without fear???, are you so brave or god 😭

1️⃣ I'm from old school fandom—pre-Twitter, pre-AO3, pre-Internet-as-we-now-know-it. I've learned to not give a fuck about what stupid, ignorant, uninformed people say on the Internet.

2️⃣ It's not my job to educate or "convert" people who disagree with me. I'm not a missionary. I'm here to have fun, and no one is going to spoil that for me.

3️⃣ I—and you, and anyone else reading this—don't owe anyone on the Internet an explanation, a reason, or any kind of justification for writing stories or drawing pictures of fictional cartoon characters smooching. (It's all so silly, honestly. I have real things to care about, like bills and pets and laundry. I envy people who have nothing to stress about except ink and paint from a 20-year-old Nickelodeon show.)

4️⃣ The media—specifically, the fictional entertainment—we enjoy is not a reflection of our humanity, morality, or an indication of our personal beliefs. If that were true, the police would be arresting authors like Stephen King and George RR Martin for writing about underage sex and incest and gore, as well as anyone who enjoys their works.

You know who does believe that reading something will "pervert" you, or that enjoying "dark things" like murder and violence and age gap ships means you must secretly be committing those things in real life? Fascists. Conservatives. Right-wing nationalist fundamentalist Christian types. People who want to ban queer books from libraries and call anyone who disagrees with them "pedophiles" and "groomers". Remember that the next time you see one of these fandom cops screeching about how so-and-so is a "pedo" because they ship two cartoons. These are people on the wrong side of history. They're anti-intellectual, anti-education, and pro-censorship. Get away from them as fast as you can.

Anon, if it seems like a lot of your friends (or the people you're around) are hating on something you want to enjoy and making you feel unsafe to talk about the things you like, then you need to find better friends. Leave them. Block them. Add their usernames to your content filters so you never have to see their ugly, hateful opinions ever again. You don't need that kind of negativity in your life, especially here on Tumblr, where we're all trying to find things that make us happy and celebrate others' creative works. Life's too short to hang around shitty people 💩

[xanderscollection]

"Growing up is realising a (random ship) you loved is actually weird and bad"

Yeah? Is it? Great, I love it even more. The worse it is the Better.

[dekarios]

when i was younger like. early to mid twenties. i used to get so mad at all the 'its a dating sim' jokes towards rpgs with romance in it. and now i'm just like.. i ain't got the time nor the energy to be upset that some people play these games exclusively for romance. there's nothing wrong with that. many people read romance novels exclusively and are only there for the romance portions, in games we have a billion visual novels where no one cares about the story and just wanna romance pretty people, blah blah romance as a genre exists for a reason and rpgs with romance options are the best option still for 'make your own character to romance the character of choice' whereas everything else gives you a premade, even in visual novels you have a premade character even if you can name them and maybe change a few things, its all very basic... i have nothing against people who use rpgs to get that same feeling but having more control over how they get it

anyway

[asgardian--angels]

I honestly just think it's funny that so many people have been watching ofmd as a 'comfort show' lmao like I'm over here specifically watching for the angst. I crave pain and suffering. As soon as High On A Rocky Ledge played in the pilot I was hooked because I knew I was in for intense emotional turmoil. Red Flags is now my favorite episode of the entire series. I honestly didn't expect Izzy to survive as long as he did. His fucked up relationship with Blackbeard has fed me so well.

Of course I adore the love story, and the fact that Ed and Stede's love is an absolute, an immutable fact, of the show's premise allows me to enjoy the angst all the more. But I feel like some people need to be reminded: David Jenkins never promised you fluff. He never promised no deaths, no tragedy, no violence, no difficult topics. Personally I think including a fair deal of all of those makes the hope, the love, and the comedy shine all the brighter and have more meaning. You don't have to agree, but you can't assign expectations to a show that never made such promises. There was never false advertising. David set out to tell the story of two troubled, complicated adults navigating love and a long-term relationship in an often harsh and unfair world, finding community and making meaningful gains in self-actualization along the way. Ultimately it is a 'feel good' story but it's a rocky and winding road meant to mirror the messiness of our real world. Maybe you need to step back and re-evaluate where canon ends and your headcanons begin, and what the 'goals' of the show actually are that may differ from what you're looking for in media, and not blame Jenkins et al. for 'betraying you' when they're just telling their story the way they set out to.

[wildmelon]

getting called parasocial on bg3 reddit because slaughtering innocents and consequently upsetting characters i like makes me sad even though it’s jUsT a ViDeO gAmE

[katyspersonal]

You don't get invested in people's fandomless OCs and original projects because you are only online for the "content for your current hyperfixation". I don't get invested in people's fandomless OCs and original projects because if they abandon me it will hurt like heck to uproot all memories and emotions developed towards these, like a stump of a chopped tree, however a creator of a huge show/videogame/etc doesn't have that power. 😎

[skunkes]

Do u ever think abt where al (and talon too neow?) will go when u find ur person irl? Ykwim? like do u think we'd forget them / drop / git bored of our lil oc guys (of al's nature)? it feels sad!!! like a real loss 2 me. is it weird to be attached to them like they r real? HMM.

i hope ur doing well btw wit all da things ur goin thru. wishin u the best, peace and stability to u, bruther <3

dis is so scary i was just talking to a friend about something adjacent to this...

putting under read more solely because it feels weird to have some of the stuff im gonna mention just out in the open loll ^_^ ^_^

so! I kind of already experienced something like this last year, when i found myself um...in a situation like one you described...

I put al up on the shelf for a bit then picked him back up a few months later for much needed comfort among lots of confusion... I look at this Now as maybe being because, well. things started going south at that time and i needed Al again... + that makes sense! but i also have a friend who's in a long term relationship who still has thier own array of characters in their brain to lean on for comfort (though they aren't ocs)

I understand what you mean though... I'm attached to them like they're real. and neither outcome sounds good to me...!

like if the case is just that The Best Fit For Me, My Partner, really will make me forget about them, that makes me sad!!! Al has been in my life for such a long time. in those few short months of my situation where things were nice, I didn't have much to draw...! I don't know what I would draw if it wasn't my little comforts...! My yearning... It felt really weird even if i was happy for a little bit... it felt weird that he was just Gone.

BUT if the case is that i find a partner that's a good fit for me and i DONT forget about Al (and talon)...then that's also kinda sad...! Sad that I still need additional fantasy comfort that can never be real... because the little guys in my brain are like their own people... sad that there's nothing on earth close enough in the same way that everyone you date can have their own qualities you'll miss because theyre their own person, except they'll always just be in my brain and never in my arms etc etc... it is sad.... sometimes i just get emotional over having created em at all because all the outcomes are so sad to me......

[hecksupremechips]

Fucked up how happy I get whenever I make content of Shinjiro Aragaki being actually loved and getting to heal and learning to love the little things in life and getting to express himself. What’s up with that

[curiouschaosstarlight]

Does anyone else get into a mood where their brain is stuck on a past experience and then they can't really process anything else

[starpros-sunshine]

I used to be funny you know? I used to have good humour and now every time I try to crack a joke I just feel awkward like I could've gotten that one delivered so much better. Smitten with the curse of not being able to be serious while also being horrible at being silly. If you ask me I'd rather be smitten with other curses but such is life I suppose.

[mikakuna]

"jason stans never accept that he's a bad person and he's done horrible things to his family and literally killed people/messed with a girl's head"

i'm snoring so loud right now

[longagoitwastuesday]

I keep thinking of that reply in my Odysseus/Agamemnon post about how I regard differently Odysseus' and Agamemnon's actions, while acknowledging that at times Agamemnon is written as a sweet man and Odysseus is always straight up shitty, and how it was taken as some sort of defense for Agamemnon and as a form of pointing out the double standard; and that wasn't at all what the post was about for me, even though I can see where they were coming from. To be honest, given I didn't imagine it would spread anywhere other than my own blog, I didn't explain myself very well (or at all).

The fact is that when I talked about Odysseus not caring about hurting someone else's child to start and end a war I was indeed comparing his actions to Agamemnon's, but my words about supporting Odysseus' wrongs and cheering him in his terrible actions, while in a joking tone, weren't entirely a joke. I do think that Odysseus does some very shitty acts, and some quite terrible ones depending on the sources. That's a fact, that he does is at the core of his characterisation and it's what makes him so much fun; but not even when he is at his most cruel does he harm his family, his own son. Agamemnon, while sweet and loving at times in some texts, at his worst is willing to sacrifice Iphigenia. When readers regard with more sympathy Odysseus over Agamemnon despite both being responsible for children dying, I don't think there's a double standard in this aspect at all considering it's never his own kid Odysseus harms. And that's the key, I think.

Odysseus and Agamemnon have very different priorities, a very different view on loyalty and duty. It could be said that Agamemnon acts out of selfishness, but it could also be read in a kinder light, saying that Agamemnon is ruled by the gods first, and by his role as head of the achaeans; Agamemnon is not entirely himself. In opposition we see Odysseus acting perhaps mainly for himself and his own family and men; yes, he is a king, but he has not the role Agamemnon has. As a consequence, Agamemnon submits his family's wellbeing to the war, to the gods, while Odysseus stops the plow before hurting Telemachus but is (depending on the source) the cause of Iphigenia's sacrifice and Astyanax's death.

Both Odysseus and Agamemnon have reasons to support their actions, and both can be sympathised with; it's fiction after all. When it comes to fiction, at the end of the day which character a reader is drawn to or sympathises with is mainly an issue of personal taste, but I suppose it also implies a certain level of one's own views or preferences on morals, what makes us find certain actions more justifiable, or tasteful (perhaps that's a more accurate word), than others. Agamemnon sacrificing his daughter, no matter how sympathetic or understandable the reason, generally sits worse on people than Odysseus doing the same with someone else's kids, because they're someone else's. This different emotional reaction they provoke has place not just metanarratively, but also inside the very story; it is narratively significant, given it determines how their arrival home plays out, how their wives react to them, and thus their futures. Ultimately it determines whether they live or die.

I think both terrible acts go in line wonderfully with each characterisation, showcasing the role they hold in their world, what they value, what they care for, what they're willing to sacrifice for themselves and the others, how much of their own they're willing to give and bend. While looking at the wider picture it could perhaps be drawn that Agamemnon is the better person out of the two, but Odysseus' selfish actions are perhaps easier to empathise with, especially from a modern viewpoint. Odysseus is treacherous and prone to betrayal, but not against his own; Agamemnon follows the rules of the gods. How fitting in that context that Odysseus doesn't die at the end of his story, that he cheats the death heroes so often are fated to, almost as if cheating the narrative itself, bending the rules of the world he is ascribed to; how fitting in the context of those texts that point towards Sisyphus being his father. But that's another topic, and I've already talked a lot.

[badscienceman]

forever annoyed by the inability to have constructive conversations involving media criticism anymore. I feel bonkers because it's like everything immediately dissolves into reactionary, all-or-nothing arguments that leave me baffled and usually uncomfortable

[dangerous-advantage]

donatello makes noodle soup

[Word Count: 1 358]

There were some days when Donnie just. Didn't work.

He could have energy and motivation aplenty, could be bursting at the seams with inspiration.

He'd sit down to work, and everything he put to paper would be reduced to eraser smudges within the hour. Half-finished projects piling up in the corners of his lab, to be repurposed for scrap metal later.

It wasn't an inventive block or burn-out. It was his mind grasping for answers and coming up empty.

To his immense frustration, tonight was one of those nights.

Donnie found himself balanced precariously on a stool at the kitchen counter, knees pulled to his plastron. His forehead was laid upon them, eyes scrunched shut, arms limp at his sides.

Oh, ibuprofen, why do you forsake me?

The rain had started up again. While lovely in concept, the smell and the sound and the city lights reflecting off of city pavement, it kind of hurt.

Ow.

Donnie's three-day "pressure" headache had reached its final form, the mother of all migraines. He could thank his lucky stars he didn't get them as bad as Mikey used to, but the point felt moot.

He'd been useless this week, dragging himself around his lab, stealing scattered snatches of sleep here and there.

It didn't help that he wasn't used to their lair yet. Months after the Shredder and the Kraang attack, he didn't feel at home here.

It felt... different. The silence wasn't loud enough.

He didn't like the restlessness. The past few months had been a continual blur of momentum. Rebuilding the lair. Fixing and upgrading his tech. Taking care of Leo. The list was endless.

Yet, he couldn't make his brain work.

Donnie gave a little grumble and let his legs dangle, bending to press his forehead to the cool stone surface of the tile. He turned his face to the side, squinting out at the lit side of the train car.

He should turn off both overhead lights, but he didn't want to injure his shell in a fall. Which was probably just him being paranoid, but–

His eyes caught on the spine of a cookbook peeking out from a stack on the back corner of the stove-side counter. He frowned (or scowled, since he was already frowning). Where had he–?

Noodle soup.

Donnie sat up, blinking. That was... that was the cookbook. With the recipe for noodle soup. His noodle soup.

He hadn't made that in forever.

Donnie stood, influenced by the gravitational pull of memories. He stumbled over to the counter, freeing the book from its dusty prison. He brushed his hand over the cover. This had come to the new lair?

In their first move, when everything was new and raw, it hadn't occurred to him to go looking. Not with everything else on his mind.

He thumbed through the well-loved pages, instinctually flipping open to the recipe. He stared at it, that same diagram embedded in his brain. When had he forgotten?

I'm making this right now, aren't I?

Resigned to the whims of his heart, he set the cookbook down and went to fetch a stockpot.

He didn't need a recipe to make it. The motions were imprinted in memory. But having the cookbook open was part of the process. It would be wrong to make noodle soup without it's "supervision."

He gathered the ingredients first.

It was strange doing so in a new kitchen set up. He turned to the right, looking for a cabinet that wasn't there, and came face to face with the fridge.

He could have grabbed the ingredients he needed (sesame oil, soy sauce, sriracha, and the rest) but it wasn't right. Non-refrigerated items went first.

He turned and rifled through the cabinets. Ground ginger and garlic were easy to find, and the rice vinegar took only a minute of reorienting to find where Mikey stored it.

The rice noodles were more elusive. Mikey kept the noodles in a lower cabinet, but after a few minutes of searching, rice noodles were nowhere to be found.

Donnie considered giving up (no, he would not use another noodle variety, thank you very much) before he remembered glimpsing some in the top of the pantry a few weeks prior.

Searching through it, he was rewarded with a single package of flat rice noodles.

Donnie filled a medium-sized bowl with semi-warm water from the sink and folded the noodles in to soak. He placed a strainer next to them ahead of time, a habit he'd formed after one too many close calls. He'd check back in eight-ish minutes, then two.

in the meantime, he switched the heat to medium-high and set out to gather the rest of his ingredients.

Chicken broth, eggs, cilantro. He skipped the green onions, as he couldn't stand the way they'd stick in his mouth. Everything else was laid out methodically on the stove-side counter for easy reach.

"Instruments of measuring?" he mumbled beneath this breath. "Check."

He measured the oil directly into the stockpot, followed by ground ginger and garlic. He eyeballed the latter, but was exacting with the former. He let the mixture heat for a half-a-minute, withdrawing a cutting board and knife and placing them on the counter.

When he returned, he added the rest of the base: sriracha, broth, soy sauce, and rice vinegar. Unlike Raph and Mikey, he valued his taste buds, so he added less sriracha than the recipe demanded.

He turned the heat up, coaxing the broth to a boil. The recipe recommended he add the noodles at this stage, but after many years of perfecting it to his tastes, he'd learned the texture was better if he waited.

As it cooked, he chopped cilantro, breathing in the scent of home.

It reminded him of late nights in the kitchen, when he couldn't sleep or couldn't think or couldn't bear to be alone. The unhurried certainty, moving through motions instinctive to the point of monotony.

For some, the repetition would have dissuaded, driven them away. For Donnie, it was grounding, a long bath in a dark room with a good book. He could get lost, allow his mind to wander, the weight of responsibility slipping from his shoulders.

His head was feeling a little better. Maybe the ibuprofen was kicking in.

When the broth had retreated back to a comfortable simmer, Donnie strained the rice noodles and added them to the pan. He watched, a hint of a smile on his face.

For the next few minutes, he'd put ingredients away. When he returned, it'd be time to finish the dish.

Cooking was an act of care, Donnie reflected. It took time and resources. The art of making something for someone in any craft was an act of care. Making something for your enjoyment alone – it sounded selfish, phrased like that.

Donnie was used to giving himself away. His time, his energy, his motivation – he would give it all, for his family. But when was the last time he had taken back?

It felt like life had been going and going, and then it stopped, leaving him reeling. His wheels were spinning on a nonexistent road.

When was the last time he had stopped? Did he remember how to?

Did any of them?

Donnie had never felt like a child. He'd always been "so mature for his age." Now he wished that he hadn't.

His eyes blurred at the edges. He sniffed, blinking hard.

"Urgh, stupid steam," he announced, to a kitchen of nobody. And then he laughed a little, because who did he have to convince? The cookware?

I'm almost done, anyway.

Donnie retrieved the eggs. With exact precision, he cracked them into a measuring cup and poured them into the soup, one after the other. They floated on top, just starting to white.

He'd let them cook for another four minutes, then add cilantro.

He wondered if the soup would taste just how he remembered. Somehow, he didn't think it would.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that. It wasn't good or bad. It just was.

Donnie shut the cookbook and put it back where he'd found it.

[suprsingr]

I have never in all my life had so many emotions about a tumblr poll but oh my GOD I'm so happy Garak won, lmao. That was so tense.

[mrburnsnuclearpussy]

I can’t even search ‘Carson’ on here because I’ll inevitably see some nasty comment about him that isn’t even true for gods sake