#please don't tag this as ship though it's not

[lavendergalactic]

☆ 　lavet's 2020 event!

happy new year! to celebrate 2025, @llocket and i are throwing a 2020 nostalgia event! are you ready to be cringe and free?

info under cut

☆ 　rules / info !

this event will last from the 7TH JANUARY - 13TH JANUARY there are only 4 days of prompts but it'll last more than 4 days just incase anyone needs extra time, you can join late too! we don't mind

please @ me and @llocket so we can see your submissions!! and also do not be shy to @ us again if you think we didn't see it, we might accidently miss it!

all types of edits will be accepted! graphics, layouts, moodboards / stimboards, psds, etc as long as you're creative! go wild

☆ 　prompts !

just like our previous events, you'll have two options per day! (you can do both if it fits, or if you just want to)

day 1﹕favourite character from 2020 OR ﹕ 2020s nostalgia

day 2﹕a 2020s aesthetic (gitchcore, cutecore, kidcore, VSCO, e-girl, etc) OR ﹕ an anime glitter edit or cowprint pattern

day 3﹕a character that would have loved the 2020 era OR ﹕ favourite ship from 2020

day 4﹕favourite fandom from 2020 OR ﹕ favourite 2020 pop culture moment (strawberry cow, kokichi 2020, junko posing, etc)

☆ 　prizes !

if you complete all days you will be entered into a raffle! when the event ends we will pull randomly for 3 winners

locket and i are going to be quite busy when it's time for prizes to roll out so prizes are going to be a little smaller, better than nothing though!

✧ 　FIRST PLACE:

2 graphic sets, 1 web decor set

✧ 　SECOND PLACE:

1 graphic set, 1 web decor set

✧ 　THIRD PLACE:

1 graphic set, 3 shiny buttons, 9 stamps

☆ 　tags / may i get a promo?

let me know (in dms or ask) if you want to be removed

@hiddencircus ⠀ @lovesick-level-up ⠀ @sinzys ⠀ @buni-cheri

@hauntina ⠀ @infectedrpd ⠀ @2ftdoll ⠀ @gotta-edit-fast

@pokipng ⠀ @ubelaces ⠀ @ethereabun ⠀ @fluffettis

@sunkupng ⠀ @itsnotbasil ⠀ @internal-baker ⠀ @selysie

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Fool's Errand Pt 11

Part (11) of Fool's Errand, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

It is 1am. I stayed up waaayyy to late to finish this, but if I didn't get it out now, it would have to wait until Monday, and I really didn't want you make ya'll wait.

This one's a little rough, loves; so grab an emotional support cock(tail).

Btw - little aside! For anyone who no long wants to be tagged, feel free to shoot me a dm or you can submit another taglist just saying to be untagged. For those that want to be tagged, please remember to give me your tumblr name. I've received a few email addresses and several names that don't seemed to link up to anyone. Sorry, but there's not much I can do with that ❤️

Warnings: heavy into medical procedures; a lot of grief, guilt, thoughts of self-doubt; near-death experience; blood; gore; needles; cpr; body horror; eye injuries; profanity. I think that's is, but, As always, please let me know if I've missed tagging something!

WC: 3,867

I used to love forests. Agamar boasted a rich abundance of biomes, but the farmlands where I was raised were far from anything so wild; thus, the thought of finding myself lost in unending stretches of trees so tall and numerous as to grant an artificial night to those trapped within their shadow was mesmerizing in a way that forgave any thought toward what danger those shadows might conceal. I knew better now.

I’d lost Emmy while flying over a forest; the scent of campfire smoke dancing just beneath that suffocating tang of fuel. I’d nearly lost Tech to the dangerous fungus thriving in the rokna trees of Endor. And then my brother… No. Forests no longer held that tantalizing mystique. They were beautiful. And they were deadly. And, as I stood between two of the countless, towering trees mere meters from the still forms atop the ramp of the Marauder, I realized how much I’d come to hate them.

My entire body was shaking with adrenaline and fear and rage, wide eyes darting from the dark armor to the crying girl, pistol still clenched in her trembling hands.

“Sweetie… I need you to put down the gun. Okay?” I murmured, the thin vail of calm forcing my words into something far removed from the desperation simmering beneath them. Her gaze darted to the weapon held before her as though just as terrified to find herself still holding it as she was at the thought of letting it go.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Just… just set it down.” I pressed, some ancient, feral instinct forbidding me from shouting at her hesitation. One hand slowly pulled away from the grip, but it was the other one that still had a finger pressed far too snugly against the trigger, and I wondered if she’d ever held a gun before.

“That’s good… You’re doing great… Look at me, honey.” I whispered, surprised at how quickly her attention snapped back to me. “It’s okay. Just put it down.” Her fingers began to loosen. The instant the weapon that looked far too large in her hands began to fall, I darted forward. I wanted to scream at her; to berate her for what damage she might have caused, for the delay her fear had forced between my men and the care they desperately needed, but I didn’t. I raced forward and instantly locked her to my chest, quiet shhh’s leaving on barely controlled breaths as I carried her rapidly into the ship, stopping only when the outside world was hidden by those worn, metal walls and quickly settled her atop Hunter’s bunk.

“Alright, baby; I want you to stay right here for me, okay?” It wasn’t quite an order, but it was far from a request, hands shaking as I swept the hair from her face to ensure she was looking at me. Snot covered her upper lip as tears flooded her cheeks, her entire body convulsing with sobs, but the small nod she managed in response was enough for me to quickly press my lips to her forehead before turning on my heel and sprinting back outside.

It was Hunter’s pistol. I kicked the damn thing inside if only to get it out of my way before dropping to my knees beside them, searching for signs of blasterfire or crushed plastoid or breath, and finding neither.

No. That wasn’t right. Crosshair’s torso was still shifting beneath short, jilted gasps. But Hunter…

“Hunter? Hunter, can you hear me?!” I didn’t wait for a reply I knew wasn’t coming as I struggled to untangle them, belatedly realizing he’d collapsed while carrying his brother up the ramp.

“Cross? Hey-hey, you with me?” I asked, begged as I eased him onto his back, but his body merely flinched with shallow breaths, faint grunts far too akin to whimpers catching on trembling lips. But he was breathing. He was hurt, but he was alive. My heart jolted as I quickly threw myself at Hunter, fingers slipping beneath the sharp notch of his jaw as my other hand quickly yanked at his helmet.

Numb. There’s a quiet that comes in moments like this, born of hard-learned necessity as even a taste of the emotions hiding just beyond the distant storm would bring with them doubt. Hesitation. And when even a second of such hesitation could be the difference between life and death, if takes very few mistakes to learn how to hide oneself in that quiet, to let hands move and thoughts rage with a careful detachment.

My body no longer shook as I wrestled the heavy chest plate from his limp form. I didn’t look at the deathly pale skin that gleamed beside the faded half-skull tattoo, nor at half-lidded eyes that were so violently wrong without laugh lines dancing at the corners or that brooding intensity as his mind raced to find solutions to impossible problems. In that moment, he was a number. He was a list of vitals and pre-existing conditions and a rapidly evolving treatment plan. He was patient 1, triaged and assisted and listed by priority, and if I held to that as I should have, I would have let him die, but I watched with a pointed lack of emotion as I finally freed him of that damned armor, his body falling back to the ramp with a thud I couldn’t bring myself to worry over in the wake of how wrong that stillness was.

It was a thoughtless action, the way my fingers twined together as my hands stacked atop each other above his chest. I needed to move them – both of them – out of the risk of enemy fire. Hell, I needed to move for that same reason; needed to get Hunter on level ground to maximize the efficiency of my compressions; needed to check for lung capacity and inevitably insert another chest tube; needed to see just how bad the chemical burns still eating into Crosshair’s eyes were and try to figure out some way to help him. I could still hear the girl crying and wasn’t surprised to see her standing at the very corner of the hallway, peaking out just enough to watch us, and I’d never felt so impossibly, irrevocably alone.

Curses spitting from my lips, I abandoned the half-completed count of compressions and threw myself to my feet. Couldn’t get deep enough… The tantalizing wealth of muscle I’d so shamelessly admired every time he’d see himself into my bed beneath the guise a massage that we both knew had nothing to do with pulled muscles or stiff joints, that breathtaking display of power that saw him so effortlessly through the endless missions and struggles of this war left his chest too stiff to readily yield beneath the too weak thrusts of my palms.

If I could get him inside – get him on a flat surface, then I could push harder, I could force his damn heart to beat and chase all threat of that encroaching chill from skin I so clearly remembered feeling like fire against mine.

“Honey, there’s a button on that interface, there. Can you press it – close the ramp?” I asked breathlessly as I began dragging Crosshair inside as well. A slightly louder groan caught in his throat making my heart drop. I barely noticed the girl dart forward, tiny hand nearly slamming onto the controls as movement returned to those long limbs.

“Shh, Cross, I’m right here, okay? I’m going to take care of you, but I have to help Hunter first.” If he heard me, if he heard the crippling apology that threatened to rend my breath into hiccuped gasps and rob me of that blessed detachment, he was too lost in a growing agony to offer any form of a response. My hand shifted beneath the desperate need to reach for him, to somehow ensure he knew I was there, but that would waste precious seconds I didn’t have, and I quickly spun back to Hunter, jaw tensing anew at the utter absence of life before me.

Airway. Breathing. Circulation. It was rote. Mindless. But something in me still died at how cold his lips felt against mine. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. And I nearly broke at how much effort it took to push even a whisper of breath into his lungs. Crosshair was starting to move, clawed hands reaching toward the black visor I only just realized was shattered, deep crackers spider-webbed across the dark crescent. If I looked, I could just make out slivers of skin between some of the larger cracks, but I couldn’t see enough to even guess toward the damage hidden within as I wrenched the medpack from my shoulders.

Hunter’s body rocked listlessly beneath the force it took to shove the chest tube between his lower ribs, expression void of the pain I’d never been so eager to see on his handsome face. What poured from the fresh wound was dark and thick and filled the small room with the heavy scent of copper and sick, and I refused to even look at it as I dragged the sheers down the front of his shirt, half ripping the fabric away in my haste.

I didn’t hesitate before arching my body over him and slamming my elbow into his chest, ignoring how the sound of ribs cracking beneath the strike was enough to make even Cross flinch, ruined helm shifting uselessly toward me for just a moment before that pain overruled his attention once more. My knee pads scrapped loudly against the metal grate as I pushed myself up enough to straddle Hunter’s waist, cupped hands returning to their position over his sternum.

“Crosshair… Cross, if you can hear me, you need to try to get that helmet off.” I panted, voice undulating with the rhythm of my entire body beating quickly against his brother’s chest. His head shifted again, the movement jerky and only barely noticeable, and I couldn’t imagine how the wet crunch, crunch, crunch that so perfectly marked the passage of time must have sounded in the dark, eyes surely blinded by whatever cruel thing had been used to cripple him.

“I know; I know, baby – I’ll help you as quickly as I can, but I need you to help, too.” I pressed on huffed, rapid breaths, relieved when his shaking fingers began groping at the rounded ridge following his jawline, but I couldn’t ignore how quickly that trembling was getting worse, the sound of air hissing through clenched teeth breaking between barely restrained groans that so wanted to be screams, and I realized that Hunter must have given him something stronger – something that managed to knock him out before I reached them, and it was rapidly fading.

But I couldn’t do anything for him. Not yet. Not until I finally managed to force some bit of life back into the man below me. Kriff, was I just wasting time? The longer I worked on Hunter, the more potential damage Crosshair suffered… I could only guess toward how much time had passed since his heart… how long he’d been down before I reached them… and the longer he’d been like this the greater the risk of…

No. No, no; I couldn’t think like that. Scowling at the way my hand was just beginning to shake again, I reached out to check for a pulse, straining to mediate my own breaths enough for me to actually feel for his heartbeat over the frantic racing of my own. Nothing… I quickly leaned down to push two more breaths into his lungs, wincing at the way his nose cracked slightly between my fingers as I pinched his nostrils shut.

“He’s… i-is he…” I could barely make out words through how shaky his breath was, and I instantly found myself wishing I hadn’t heard him at all.

“I’m doing everything I can for him, Crosshair; just focus on getting that helmet off, and I’ll try to get you more meds soon.” There was that careful detachment again, automatic response unhindered by the grief and panic I tried so hard to ignore.

“To-… told ‘im t… l-l’ve m…” I couldn’t think about the sob that robbed the strength from his voice, nor the hiccuped gasp that followed as his hands clawed over his ruined visor, my teeth grinding into the inside of my cheek to keep my own breath from breaking.

Still no pulse. The precious few seconds it took to dig into my bag once more made my skin crawl, some wretched whisper in the back of my head telling me everything that could go wrong, everything that I’d done wrong; that I wasn’t fast enough, strong enough; that I was killing him – that I was killing both of them.

Guilt made my stomach churn as a small drop of crimson marked where I’d nicked him with the razor as I rushed to clear enough hair for the electrodes. It was stupid. Such a tiny wound… and yet my eyes kept trying to return to it, as though I hadn’t just shoved a tube through his side, as though I hadn’t just broken several ribs to allow adequate compressions, as though the man beneath me wasn’t, by all medical standards, already dead.

The small device let out a warning trill, and I quickly jumped clear of him, waiting anxiously for the timer to finish. Hunter’s body seized beneath the violent surge of electricity, torso snapping up, spine locking in a tight arch. And then he crashed back to the metal grating, rocking listlessly from the momentum.

I didn’t wait for the AED to finish reassessing, fingers reaching for his throat the instant his back hit the floor. Whatever momentary lucidity had granted Crosshair the clarity of mind to mumble those heartbreaking words was gone, crushed beneath an agony no longer muted by whatever drugs Hunter had given him. His legs dragged uselessly against the metal beneath him, deep, keening groans occasionally breaking into a barked scream as he writhed in pain. And, still, there was no sign of life beneath my fingertips.

One more… I’d grant myself only one more moment of denial, one final attempt to bring him back…

“Dammit; come on, Hunter!” I didn’t mean to let the words escape me as I pounded against his chest. “Don’t you do this – don’t you kriffing dare do this!” I remembered the first time I’d performed CPR on a real person. “We need you, dammit! Come on!” The patient had already been pronounced. “Come back! Please, please, come back!” But residents were encouraged to “practice.” Knowing they were already dead, however, did nothing to relieve me of the sharp rush of adrenaline, the desperate urgency to somehow do better – be better… to save them… That knowledge did nothing to rid me of the consuming guilt of failure when I finally walked away.

I couldn’t silence the sob as I pressed my lips against his one last time, pushing the air from my own lungs into him with every unspoken plea and promise and curse forever forced into a silence I feared I’d regret until my heart stopped as well.

Something beeped. Doubt robbed me of recognition. Fear forbade me from even looking. Barely ten percent of patients come back from something like this. Some horrible, broken part of me had accepted his death the instant I’d realized he had no pulse, but denial had granted me the strength to try anyway. Now, that denial refused to let my eyes fall back to the small device connected to his chest, but Crosshair was screaming, and the Senator’s daughter was crying, and there was too much at stake for even a moment to be lost for something so useless.

Still, I couldn’t understand the dancing line steadily making its way across the monitor. I’d seen it countless times before, but…

My chest bucked in a sharp gasp, body finally remembering how to move. In an instant, I was at Crosshair’s side, hands grabbing at his in an enraging struggle to finally rip that damned helmet off.

“Crosshair! Cross, baby, I’m going to help fix it, but you �� ugh! – you have to… stop… fighting me!” I grunted, finally trapping one of his hands beneath my arm long enough to grab the ruined bucket. His scream turned desperate the instant the light reached him, and my stomach dropped. The skin around his eyes was scalded, red and oozing, and how could I possibly give him any words of reassurance that might offer even a breath of comfort in the face of those wounds?

I offered no warning before jabbing a hypo against his neck. He didn’t notice it anyway, lips wrenched clear of teeth gnashing around hitched gasps and feral cries he couldn’t begin to restrain.

“I’ve got you, Cross.” I murmured as those frenzied movements began to fail, one arm wrapping around his back to help guide him carefully to the floor while the other snatched for my med scanner with some futile hope that it might be able to identify whatever toxin was searing into his flesh. “That’s it, love; just breathe for me; okay?” I wasn’t sure if the drugs helped, or if they merely left him too weak to thrash anymore, and I wanted to shout apologies until my lungs gave out, but I didn’t turn away from the small scanner, eyes quickly studying every word that scrolled across the screen before dropping it to snatch my comm.

“Tech! Wrecker! Do you copy?!” I shouted, already pushing myself to my feet and sprinting toward the medbay.

“Yeah,” Wrecker answered barely a second later. “They okay?”

“I’m working on that,” I nearly cringed at the exhaustion in my voice, but quickly moved on. “I need something to neutralize an acid. Are you in a position where you can look this over?”

“Do you have an approximate idea of what the substance is?” Tech asked, words breathless in a way that made my guilt spike. I shouldn’t have to ask them… I should be able to figure this out myself… but the chemical equation dancing across the scanner was far too complex for me to work through in time.

“I’m sending it now.” I replied, fingers already flying over the scanner to share the readout.

“Oh.” I wasn’t surprised to hear the dread in Wrecker’s voice, but if he recognized the chemicals, then there was hope that he knew how to safely wash it away. “Yeah… think I can tell yuh what yuh need.”

Tech didn’t interrupt him. This wasn’t hardware or trivia or anatomy. This was chemistry. And, while I wouldn’t have second-guessed a word the pilot may have said, Wrecker’s knowledge was a matter of passion. The same interplay of atomic bonds and volatile reactions manipulated to detonate a building could be used to form acids powerful enough to melt through entire ships, and I trusted his word without a moment’s doubt. Still, the time it took to prepare the solution was torture, and I couldn’t run back through the ship fast enough to begin to ease that crippling guilt.

He was barely moving when I got back, shivering body curled onto his side, one hand clutching at his eyes while the other was locked around Hunter’s arm, and I felt the tears threaten to suffocate me as I realized he was too disorientated to recognize the steady rhythm still singing from the small monitor, to understand that his brother was alive.

“Crosshair; hey-hey-hey, listen to me.” I murmured quickly, satchel of equipment dropping carefully to the floor as I rushed to his side. “He’s alright. Hunter’s alright, but I need to take care of you now.” If he heard me, he didn’t respond, and I didn’t waste additional time trying to explain.

My heart was racing, anticipation searing through my nerves like lightning. He wasn’t going to like this. Kriff, he wasn’t going to like this…

He barely flinched when I gently laid my hand on his forehead, but the instant the first drop of liquid touched his cheek, whatever illusion of weakness the meds granted was gone. His limbs lashed out in a frenzy of panicked rage, kicking himself away while his arms swiped toward me in a vicious attempt to push me back. Cursing, I spun out of his reach just long enough to regain my footing.

Any other day, I’d have no hope in holding him down, but the body can only withstand the degree of agony he’d been subjected to for so long before even his muscles began to fail, so when I pinned his arms at his sides, my own legs quickly wrapping around him in a powerful hold, I had just enough time to empty that first syringe entirely, flooding his face with the neutralizing fluid.

I knew it would burn at first, and my face twisted into a sympathetic scowl at the fresh cries of a hurt I couldn’t imagine ripping through his already raw throat, but by the time I was halfway through the second, his thrashing began to ease, jaw hanging open around sputtering coughs as he spat out what trace amounts of fluid accidentally slipped past his lips.

“Good.” I murmured, hand once more settled atop his brow in an effort to carefully keep him still. “I know; I know it hurts, but this is helping, right? It’s getting better?” I expected no response, and he offered none, but he didn’t need to. I could feel the tension slowly fading despite the occasional twitch and choked grunt.

“Honey, I need to help you open your eyes, now. I need to make sure we rinse all that gunk out.” I warned, and my heart ached at how quickly that tension returned. “I know, but we’ll go slow, okay?” Voice quiet, gentle in a way I could only hope he might understand, I whispered to him, thumb already moving to pull at his upper lid as my thighs tightened at the way his arms wrenched against me. His head thrashed, desperate to escape my touch, but I followed him with ease, relentless until a dozen empty syringes lay strewn about the cabin, tossed aimlessly that I might hurry on to the next.

“Almost done.” I breathed, but he’d already begun to fade, body only occasionally managing a weak flinch as I pushed the last of the solution over his other eye. That redness was still there, and only time would tell how well his eyes would heal… but the danger was over. I quickly coated the abused flesh in a generous layer of bacta before securing thick pads over his eyes with bandages.

They were alive. I could still see the steady rhythm of Hunter’s heartbeat scrawling atop the monitor beside him, and the cruel acid used to incapacitate Crosshair was neutralized. They were okay… Even the little girl had stopped crying, wide eyes watching me with an emotion I was far too exhausted to try to name as I staggered to my feet. Couldn’t leave them here… I’d get them to the medbay�� get them settled… then I’d let myself breathe…

Click here or message me if you'd like to be added to a taglist!

Click here for my Masterlist.

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @eclec-tech @jennrosefx @echos-girlfriend @starqueensthings @manofworm @merkitty49 @idoubleswearimawriter @abigfanofstarwars @chopper-base @daftdarling222 @pb-jellybeans @bacta-the-future @rosechi @legalpadawan @drummergirl1701 @6oceansofmoons @dangraccoon @ji5hine @dathomiri-mudpuppy @mooncommlink @inneedoffanfics @totally-not-your-babe @delialeigh @callsign-denmark @blondie-bluue @ray-rook @iabrokengirl @arcsimper5 @rndmpeep @amorfista @flawsandgoodintent @passionofthesith @followthepurrgil @heidnspeak @roam-rs @foodmoneyandcats @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @9902sgirl @captainrex89 @waytoooldforthis78 @msmeredithrose @mythical-illustrator @sleepycreativewriter @anythingandeveythingstarwars @littlefeatherr @thegreatpipster @melonmochii @totallyunidentified @mickeyp03 @hipwell @echos_pile_of_bones @leotawrites @Asgre_Thar @fruityfucker @babyscilence @skellymom @youreababboon @echo9821

[do-u-know-this-autisticcharacter]

Do you know a character you like or love that is autistic or you believe is autistic, even if the show/author etc hasn't actually said so.

We have no banned characters. You can submit characters from any media and any genre:

~ Books ~ Comedy ~ Horror movies ~ Anime and Manga ~ Marvel or DC ~ Foreign/non English TV/media ~ Computer/console games ~ Silent films ~ Indie films ~ media from your childhood ~ Youtube Characters ~ Sci Fi etc ~

Please note, you MUST include evidence or proof or we won't accept the submission. We don't require much evidence, but there needs to something other than "just vibes" or "their whole family is autistic" (we don't know the family my friend).

Proof we do accept include - obsessive tendencies, has no social boundaries, nonverbal communication or delayed language development etc. Or even if creator of said character said so in a social media post etc.

We will only accept submissions through the submission form.

If you submit via Tumblr ask, it will be deleted. The only exception are posts submitted through the form that we require more evidence for.

The spreadsheet of submitted characters is here.

More about us below the cut!

Mod Pixie (she/they): I'm 35 and have been on Tumblr since minimally 2012, so I have Seen Some Things™️.

I love most things nerd and feel like Tumblr is particularly suited to nerddom.

I was diagnosed autistic and ADHD at 33, though I always knew I didn't quite fit in and suspected ADHD for a while. I was always just considered slightly odd, in an Anne of Green Gables way.

Fiction has always been my escape and once Tumblr introduced polls and I found the blogs mentioned, I thought someone should do the same for autistic characters! Full disclosure, it seems someone had the same idea and created a blog, but it never took off.

If you'd like to follow my main blog, please follow @pixiemusing 😄

Mod Sunflower (she/her): Hello there! You can call me Sunflower if you wish. I prefer to remain anonymous on this blog and on @aretheybisexual, but I am the co admin here/there/everywhere. I go by she/her pronouns, 30+, bisexual and am on an NHS waiting list to be diagnosed for autism (2 years and counting). I live in the GMT timezone. Tumblr veteran since 2010 roughly.

Blog mechanics: Feel free to submit ANY character you see as autistic. If you feel the need to clarify whether they are "good" or "bad" rep, feel free in the form! We will accept characters who are "problematic" or from problematic media. We will make sure to tag the media for every character.

I (Mod Pixie) will also sometimes make comment about the submissions well before they are posted. These will be tagged as Pixie Speaks, along with the character and media. The Pixie Speaks tag will also be used for general musings. Just Blog Things will be used for announcements and blog maintenance.

We hope you enjoy and if you have any questions, please DM! Please note that all submissions must be through the Google Form.

For fandoms with more than 2 submissions in a row, the submissions will be broken up with other fandom submissions in between. They may, depending on the number of submissions, be broken up across several days, which may or may not be successive. Polls run for a week.

Thanks again for stopping by!

Just for more awareness:

@aretheybisexual @aretheyqueer @do-you-ship-it-polls @do-you-know-this-queer-character @doyouknowthisdisabledcharacter @are-they-a-faggot @are-they-trans

[ylizam]

5 topics I could talk about for an hour with no prep:

The West Wing (including but not limited to Toby being in love with CJ, the cast needing to stop cosplaying as real politicians, that fucking Supreme Court episode where they tried to both sides SCOTUS, how bad the show can be about women, how much I love Toby and Leo and Abbey and CJ in particular but also all of them FOREVER, how I'm afraid to ever rewatch the show because I feel like my brain will spin around and around judging my younger self instead of enjoying what's good about the show)

ships I've loved before (Berena!!!, BonC, CJ/Toby, Han/Leia, CarJack, Ivanova/Delenn, and on and on and on)

General Hospital (Scrubs 4Lyfe) (but also how the show is wasting its female characters right now���and possibly trying to tank itself out of existence—but also has not always been so great to its female actors, cough Gloria Monte cough) (actually maybe this should just be US soap operas generally, with a focus on 1980s soaps, and a nice rambling digression about how bad for the industry and genre losing the NYC soaps was)

fixing the Star Wars sequel trilogy

food (e.g., best things i've made myself, best things i've eaten on my travels, favorite local restaurants and cafes, how I kind of prefer Montreal bagels to NY ones even though the latter are what I grew up on and they're still really good please don't tell my family I said that, that said my favorite pizza is NJ pizza so maybe they'll forgive me)

not tagging anyone in particular ��� just join in if you want!

Thanks so much for the tag @thingsfrommyhead !! I'm starting a new post as the original was getting long 🙂

List five topics you can talk on for an hour without preparing any material :

1) Plants

2) Music- genres, etc.

3) Rizzoli and Isles 😁

4) Vegetarian cooking

5) Craft Beer/Beer styles in general

No pressure tags- @release-the-sheep @detective-jane-rizzoli @dis-connectfic @lastonethereisaniceperson @galwithalibrarycard

[prick-love-for-arting]

my piece for the @hqelectricboogalooexchange

a take on Modern Magic with Ennoshita, Mai, and Akaashi. (aka my excuse to stare at my Mucha postcards and have fun with lighting)

for @a-flux-uchiha

[lucabyte]

On autonomy, and what it means to be Obliged to Help.

Bonus:

[fluttershybunny]

moree ajc art ~ + the ajc art i just made to send back to people who send me nice jamagrams >x< <3333 my beloveds

[butterflysonnets]

yes i'm rooting for m*leven breakup because byler is neat but mostly? i'm rooting for m*leven breakup for the sake of el and mike.

to me, their romance was always a puppy love born out of a combination of social pressures, naïve curiosity, and a lack of true understanding regarding intimacy and romantic love and what it really is. it was real in that they do truly, deeply care about each other and they are close friends, maybe even shared an attraction, but a maturing romance is so much more than that. they've grown up and out of being boyfriend/girlfriend, and that's okay! i think television/film needs to show more often that most of us don't have definite "soulmates" or first childhood loves that we spend our whole lives with. it doesn't mean these relationships meant nothing and didn't impact us, it just means they've run their course and that something else is in the cards, and this is part of life!

i've always felt el was at her best and most confident self when broken up with mike, discovering who she was and what she liked alongside another girl her age instead of just relying on mike for mentorship on how to live in the real world. she deserves more of an opportunity to find herself, her autonomy, and her independence, and to love who she is, and she's made it clear she's felt insecure in the relationship with mike because she isn't being loved and understood the way she wants, needs, and deserves from someone who is her partner.

also, it's okay if mike doesn't love her in "the way he should". he is not obligated to love her romantically and stay in a relationship with her just because she's a girl, because she "needed someone", or because he cares about her a lot. he shouldn't be pressured into a romance if it's not truly coming from his heart. he deserves freedom to find out and honour who he is, too, instead of just staying in his non-functional first relationship — one he got into as a child, essentially — and defining himself that way because it's what's expected when a boy and a girl are close. he loves her in some way, yes, but it's okay if he doesn't feel comfortable or secure being her boyfriend anymore, for whatever reason that is. he's felt insecure too, and that's valid and it matters.

they are their own people and are steadily growing and changing every day. they need time to figure out who those people are, and it's become clear (at least in my opinion) that those people aren't meant to be a couple at this stage.

they deserve freedom. they deserve to grow up and be authentic to themselves and not feel like they need to lie for the sake of a relationship. they deserve to move on from this version of their relationship that isn't making them happy and rekindle the best part of their bond: their strong, beautiful friendship. they don't have to be a couple if it doesn't make them stronger and better and happier people.

i think it would be healthy and wonderful for a show, especially one consumed frequently by young adults, to show a relationship starting, progressing, and ending on good terms in this way. sometimes things don't work out, and that is okay.

[sunnemona]

☆hello, dr//m/re artist. in front of you is the Add Tags button. Please use it :(

[shoechoe]

I think the most unrealistic thing to me about Invader Zim is the fact that Dib instantly hates Zim. Like maybe this is just me but if I was an elementary schooler that was obsessed with outer space and paranormal entities living in a borderline-dystopian corporate hellscape and my dad neglected me, I had no friends whatsoever, all of my classmates hated and bullied me for being weird, and nobody ever listened to me or took me seriously, and then one day an alien in disguise showed up in class that only I could tell was an alien, I would absolutely not declare myself his mortal enemy and try to capture him to have him killed and dissected for the good of the human race. I would beg to be his best friend and hope he would take me with him as the world blows up

[jeanne-de-valois]

doctor huh??????????

(on my current rewatch of new who I'm still stuck in 10 zone, and thus have to admit to something terrible. Apparently I am a Doctor multishipper to the degree that I've clowned myself into shipping Doctor/Donna romantically. I won't apologize for it, they protested too much and made me think about it. )

[whenthelightisrunninglow]

for some reason i always think of them when i see that screenshot idk why

[happyocelot]

I think people need to reread Naruto and realize that the main plot of Naruto, was in fact, his journey to become Hokage. The manga started with Naruto wanting to become Hokage and ended with him becoming Hokage.

I saw some shipping war stuff a few hours ago with people arguing with @hyuga-eyes, trying to invalidate the canon NaruHina pairing by saying that the main plot of Naruto was saving Sasuke.

In fact, saving Sasuke was introduced as a subplot only at the very end of part 1/beginning of Shippuden. Hundreds of chapters/episodes into the series.

So you tell me, what was the main plot before then? You know, during the Land of Waves, Chuunin Exams, Konoha Crush, and so on? And the many other important things Naruto did throughout the series that didn't have much connection to saving Sasuke at all, like befriending Kurama, meeting his parents, fighting in the war, fighting Pain, learning Sage Mode, searching for Tsunade, learning Rasengan...I could go on and on.

I fully understand that his friendship with Sasuke was an important part of his journey, but it was still a PART of his journey, not the whole journey. And there's no need to invalidate his relationships with his other friends (including Hinata). They were an important part of his journey too.

[nostalgia-tblr]

"are people not into that?" i ask, after posting my weird niche shit to the internet, despite knowing it to be weird niche shit.

[wolverineheight]

get his tits out gmonday (this is not ship art ty)

[solivagantingrebel]

The commenting situation in this fandom is really fucking atrocious, huh.