i really wish there were more butch jj truthers in the world
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The sun is hiding from me today
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Yall, im fucking TIRED. I have this NEED to let people know about me, to care about me, i need to feel loved by someone, but not in a romantic way, i just need cuddles, someone that makes me feel smart, usefull, loved and all that stuff. My biggest dream Is to be famous so people know I exist, I want to go on TV shows to answer journalists' questions, I want people to love me, and I know they will, because I'm a good person! I really am! I just need people to know that I exist. I'm tired of being in my imaginary world where only characters in my head love me, it makes me happy but its so sad and im tired. I love talking online with people, answering questions? Fuck i love It! Talking about my favourite food? Fuck yeah! Please I just need affection.
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I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt
“Woah. You look like shit."
Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.
The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.
"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."
And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.
The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.
If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.
"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.
"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.
"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.
The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.
He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."
There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.
"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."
Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"
"Daniel? Is that you?"
His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.
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Do you think if Bingge somehow gotten into Shen Qingqiu head via dreamscape(and dug deeper than Bingmei ever dared), he would see Shen Yuan in a room filled with his merch, where he was reading his story, defending him in comments and think: “he might love you most, but he loved me first.”?
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happy wednesday pissf****ts
thank you to @sameen-shawv for finding the original artists, apologies for not including them
1. @krippe90
2. @maxkennedy24
3. @/EyebrowScar on reddit
4. @/Adorno_a_window on reddit
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Being the only disabled person in a friend group is like. Argues against mental age for 30 minutes without achieving anything because they will die if they cant call developmentally disabled adults 6 year olds. Feel guilty for cancelling plans for disability reasons and making up a lie so you dont have to tell the truth. Get called a cripple after explaining your symptoms. Get told nothing is ever the doctors fault because they work soooo hard and you're just not persistent enough. Realize the only way theyd ever do even minor caregiving tasks for you is if they were paid. Spend an hour arguing against eugenics. Listen to someone talk about a group of disabled people and with every sentence it gets more obvious they never interacted with anyone from this group personally. Get compared to peoples elderly relatives. Get -
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I lost track of that one post about the clones passive aggressively wearing the names of individuals they hate during the war and then proceeding to associate that name with a bunch of stupidity, but
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