#ppl don’t seem to understand the gravity

[amethystarachnid]

Hi! Its me again I had another found family troupe in mind if your up for it! I wanted to ask before the Christmas prompts started.

So this time I was thinking Deadpool x Teen!Male!Reader where reader is on top of a building, how he got there is up to you, but he's abt to make a bad decision (if ykw I mean) when dead pool finds him and starts to talk, and basically they end up making a deal, if wade can make the reader see how good life is then he won't do it, but if he fails the reader can go back, and basically its is a bunch of fun stupid shit for the rest and the reader becomes apart of the little odd family created in dead pool 3 (including logan) and decides to stick around. So heavy angst that's solved in a nice fluff, and if your not comfortable with the first part you can change the angst to a different scenario you totally can, and the how and why is up to you.

Readers personality is a sarcastic, cold teen, but he's caring and weird around ppl he's close to, he hides his emotions to keep himself safe

If you can do this I would be so so grateful, if not its totally understandable, I love your work sm its hard not to request things, keep up the amazing writing! Have a good day/night!

OPERATION MAKE YOU NOT HATE THE UNIVERSE

⤷ WADE WILSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Wade Wilson x male!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: platonic!, angst, tiny bit of fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 4k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): This story deals with sensitive themes, including mental health struggles and suicide

ᯓ★ I'm happy that you like my works and don't worry, you can make as may requests as you want, I'm so happy when people make requests! <3

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The city sprawls below, twinkling and vast, but strangely quiet from this height. You sit on the edge of a skyscraper, your legs dangling into the nothingness, with only the hum of distant cars and neon lights bleeding through the foggy air.

You take a deep breath, the cold biting into your lungs. It makes sense, somehow, for this place to be the last thing you’d see. Who knows how long you’ve been sitting here, trying to drum up the courage or the anger or whatever it’s going to take to finally just let go. But the emptiness is louder than any fear. The world feels like it’s swallowed you whole, and this—you dangling on the edge—feels like the only time you’ve ever been able to look it in the face.

“You know, most people pick roller coasters or a fifth of tequila if they wanna feel a thrill.”

You flinch. Not from surprise—well, okay, a little from surprise—but more from sheer irritation. This is the moment someone decides to intrude? You glance over your shoulder and see him. He’s wearing red and black, looking like a deranged SWAT team dropout, leaning casually against the roof access door, arms crossed like he’s watching a really boring episode of a soap opera.

“And here I thought I had the whole roof to myself,” you say dryly, hiding your unease. “Guess we’re all just having a rooftop party.”

“Lucky for you, kiddo, I’m the life of the party. Deadpool, at your service,” he says with a bow. “But hey, what’s a young guy like you doing up here all alone? Besides reenacting all the worst Lifetime movies?”

You snort, because it’s exactly that bad. “Oh, just figured I’d enjoy the view,” you reply, deadpan. “And maybe gravity. Seems like a good combo.”

“Right, right, makes sense,” he nods, as if he’s in on some cosmic joke only you get. He crouches down, edging a little closer. “Let me guess. Someone pissed you off, the world sucks, you hate your life, blah blah blah, and now you’re about to end it all. Am I close?”

You don’t answer, just roll your eyes and stare back out at the city. But something in the fact that he said it—that he got it so easily—makes you feel strange. Seen.

“Oh, man, nailed it!” Deadpool cheers, like this is some sort of accomplishment. “See, I’m like a therapist, but with 90% more leather and 100% more explosions. And, I make house calls. You’re welcome.”

“Yeah? Where’s the PhD?” You give him a sidelong look, unimpressed. “Bet it’s in the mail.”

He gasps theatrically. “Excuse me, my online course was very thorough, thank you. You’re looking at a fully certified therapist-slash-savior-slash-pizza connoisseur.” He steps even closer, as if he’s trying to get a read on you. “So, what’s it gonna take for you to, I dunno…step back from the edge, champ?”

The question catches you off guard, but you school your expression back into that empty, unreadable mask. “Nothing,” you say. “Don’t need saving.”

“Aw, sure you do. Everybody does,” Deadpool replies, with a smile that’s a little too wide. He’s still in that crouch, head tilted like he’s studying a lab rat. “C’mon, take me up on my deal.”

“I didn’t agree to any deal,” you mutter.

“Well, that’s about to change, Mr. Antisocial.” Deadpool leans in, his voice a dramatic whisper. “I’ll make you a bet. If I can’t show you something worth sticking around for, something that doesn’t totally suck, you win. But if I can—and oh, I will—then you gotta promise not to do anything stupid up here. No ‘jumping’ and no ‘leaping gracefully off into the night’—not on my watch. Deal?”

You look at him, trying to figure out if he’s serious. But then, you’re not sure this guy even knows what serious means. A smirk slips onto your face, mostly from disbelief. “And if you fail, I get to come back here and do what I want.”

Deadpool slaps his hands together, eyes lighting up like he’s just scored a jackpot. “Deal! Signed, sealed, and delivered. What’s your name, by the way? So I know what to call you when I start ‘Operation Make You Not Hate the Universe.’”

“None of your business.”

“Oh, that’s not gonna work,” he replies breezily. “I’ll call you...” He pauses dramatically, finger tapping his chin. “Shadow Kid. Because of your gloomy vibes. Or Edgy McBroodface. Either one works for me.”

You sigh, exasperated. “Fine. It’s Y/n. Happy?”

He claps his hands like a kid on Christmas. “Delighted! Well, Y/n, pack your bags because you’re about to take the Deadpool Tour de Joy. First stop: that little bakery down the street that makes these empanadas that are just to die for—pun very intended.”

As ridiculous as he sounds, something inside you—against all odds—doesn’t completely hate this idea. Maybe he’s right, maybe he’s wrong, but at least he’s distracting you. And it’s better than the silence. So you sigh, push yourself back from the edge, and follow him, if only because he’s made it impossible not to.

“Don’t get too excited,” you warn, hiding a hint of curiosity beneath a mask of sarcasm. “I don’t like pastries.”

“Don’t worry, kid, you will,” he grins, guiding you off the ledge. “Deadpool guarantees it. Or I’ll give you a full refund. You know, after we make sure you don’t end up sidewalk art.”

It’s midnight, and you’re trailing behind a lunatic in red and black spandex as he skips down the street like he’s leading a parade of one. You almost regret stepping away from the edge of that building. Almost. Because, despite everything, Deadpool’s got your attention, even if it’s just so you can see where this trainwreck of a night is headed.

“Now, Y/n,” he says, spinning around to face you while walking backward, “it’s time I introduce you to my squad. My inner circle. The people who either love me or have given up trying to kill me. I figured, what better way to kick off Operation: Don’t Be A Self-Destructive Edgelord than some quality time with family?”

“Your ‘family’?” You raise an eyebrow, skeptical.

“Oh, yes. They’re the most dysfunctional group of weirdos you’ll ever meet, which, in our line of work, is high praise.” He turns back around, leading you down a couple of twisting alleyways until you’re standing in front of a building that looks like it was abandoned about a hundred years ago.

“Home, sweet home!” Wade announces proudly, shoving the door open. “Well, it’s not really mine, but Al’s not much of a decorator anyway.”

You’re about to ask who “Al” is when you spot her: a short, older woman with oversized sunglasses, leaning against a sofa, flipping through a Braille magazine. She doesn’t even look up when she addresses Deadpool.

“You brought home another stray, Wade? You’d think you were trying to start an orphanage for misfits,” she mutters.

“This one’s special, Al. Meet Y/n,” Wade says, guiding you inside. “Y/n, this is the one and only Blind Al. She’s my friend, roommate, therapist, probation officer, and part-time parole board.”

Al snorts. “You think I’d live with Wade if I had any other options?”

You almost smirk. “So you’re telling me he’s like this all the time?”

Al nods, and you catch the tiniest hint of a smile on her face. “Constantly. And unfortunately, you’ll get used to it.”

“Come on, Al, don’t ruin the surprise! I’m a blast to be around,” Wade says, slapping you on the back with a little too much enthusiasm. “Anyway, I promised Y/n the Deadpool Experience™, which includes only the finest influences and biggest badasses on the market.”

“Speaking of badasses…” Wade nudges you, gesturing to the kitchen doorway, where a tall, grizzled man in flannel and jeans leans against the frame, arms crossed. His eyes are hard, the kind that say he’s seen more than his fair share of horror, but he’s giving you a look that’s somewhere between curiosity and caution.

“Logan, meet Y/n,” Wade says, pushing you forward. “Y/n, meet Wolverine, aka Logan Howlett, aka the surliest Canadian this side of the Rockies. Logan, Y/n here’s having a tough time deciding if life’s worth sticking around for, so I figured you could help me convince him otherwise. Since you’re all about that whole ‘living through endless suffering’ thing.”

Logan looks you over, clearly unimpressed with Wade’s choice of words. “You tell this kid what he was getting into by sticking with you?” he grumbles, giving Wade a side-eye.

“Why spoil the fun?” Wade chirps. “Besides, I figured I’d ease him into the nightmare that is my lifestyle by introducing him to you first. It’s all part of my master plan.”

You scoff. “Not exactly a plan so far.”

Logan grunts, shooting Wade a look. “Kid, if you’re here, you better be ready to put up with more crap than you signed up for. And if you don’t, well, don’t expect us to sugarcoat it.”

“Gee, thanks, Logan. Great pep talk,” Wade says, clapping his hands together. “You’re practically the Canadian Dr. Phil.”

“Whatever,” Logan mutters, giving you a short nod of acknowledgment. “Stay out of trouble, kid.”

“Thanks,” you reply dryly. “I’ll make a note of it.”

Wade flashes a grin. “All right, now that we’ve got the somber stuff out of the way, it’s time to meet my real pride and joy. Follow me, Y/n.” He leads you down a narrow hallway, barely glancing back as he goes. “And here, in the third and definitely not cleanest room on the left, is the Mini Wolverine herself, Laura Kinney!”

You peer around the doorframe, and sure enough, there’s a young girl, no older than you, sharpening a knife with an intensity that could probably slice through steel. She looks up, one eyebrow raised as she sizes you up.

“So…another of Wade’s recruits?” she asks, her tone half-sarcastic but half-genuine, like she’s as surprised as anyone to find herself among this crowd.

“Not exactly,” you reply. “Apparently, I’m part of some…life-affirming experiment?”

Laura smirks. “Good luck. Most people just end up scarred. Or worse.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, mini-me,” Wade says, swooping in to ruffle her hair, which she swats at with the speed of a ninja. “Y/n, Laura here is what we call a ‘clone’—same rage issues, same claws, same immunity to hugs as Mr. Broodmaster in the kitchen. Laura, Y/n here is testing out the Wade Wilson School of Life Choices.”

She snorts, shaking her head. “Well, better you than me. Good luck.”

“Look at that, Y/n! She’s already rooting for you,” Wade says, pulling you back out of the room before you can reply.

“Sure,” you mutter. “I feel like I’m one big science project.”

“Nah, science projects are boring,” Wade says cheerfully. “And last, but certainly not least, the crown jewel of this ridiculous ensemble is… Peter!”

You frown, confused, as Wade leads you to the living room, where a man with glasses and a receding hairline is lounging on the couch, a sandwich in one hand and a soda in the other. He looks up and waves at you with a sheepish smile.

“Hey there. I’m Peter,” he says. “No code name, no special abilities, just…Peter.”

You raise an eyebrow at Wade. “How does he fit in?”

“Oh, he doesn’t,” Wade says matter-of-factly. “He’s just a genuinely good guy. The one, non-superpowered person who got tangled up in my dumpster fire of a life and didn’t immediately bail. I figured he’d be a nice balance to all the violent murderers in the room. Plus, he makes a mean ham and cheese sandwich.”

Peter shrugs, giving you a friendly smile. “Sometimes, it’s good to have at least one guy who knows what life’s like for the average person. And I figure, if Wade can make it, maybe there’s hope for all of us, right?”

You nod slowly, unsure what to make of all this but also, maybe for the first time in a long time, feeling something close to warmth. These people are rough around the edges, sure, but there’s an understanding in the way they look at you—like they know what it’s like to have the world chew you up and spit you out.

“Well, Y/n,” Wade says, clapping his hands together, “you’ve met the gang. Now, how about that empanada?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, but there’s a small smile tugging at your lips. “Fine,” you mutter. “One empanada. But if it sucks, this deal’s off.”

Wade grins. “Deal! And hey, if you’re lucky, maybe you’ll even get a side of wisdom and life lessons from our merry band of misfits. Consider this step one on the path to…not hating everything.”

He leads the way, Peter and Al in tow, while Logan and Laura hang back a bit. And as you walk down the dimly lit street, surrounded by this unlikely crew, you realize maybe—just maybe—Wade might actually have a point.

The morning sun drips through the dirty windows of Blind Al’s apartment, casting a pale yellow glow over the chaotic mess of takeout boxes, weapon cases, and torn-up furniture. You’re sprawled on an old, threadbare armchair, an empanada wrapper stuck to your shirt from last night’s “Deadpool Tour de Joy.” You’d made it through an entire night with Wade and his crew of insane, sarcastic maniacs—and, against all odds, it wasn’t completely awful. In fact, you’d felt something almost like…belonging.

But now it’s the next day, and you’ve already told yourself a hundred times that you should probably just slip out, go back to what you were doing, forget all of this ever happened. You’re starting to push yourself up when Wade barges into the room, wearing his costume but missing the mask, eyes bleary, and looking like he hasn’t slept in days.

“Ah! Sleeping beauty rises!” Wade yells, startling you. “Figured you’d skipped out by now, but no! Y/n, my little suicidal protégé, how’s life on the wild side?”

You roll your eyes. “It’s early. Can you not yell?”

“Oh, no-no-no, kid, this is normal volume,” Wade replies with a grin. “Wait ‘til Logan shows up and starts shouting at me. Speaking of which…”

Right on cue, Logan comes around the corner, his expression twisted in irritation. “Wade, it’s nine in the damn morning, why are you already so loud?”

“Why are you such a ray of sunshine?” Wade replies cheerfully, barely dodging Logan’s hand as he tries to grab him.

“Because you’re annoying,” Logan growls, rolling his eyes and making for the coffee pot. But Wade is already blocking him, a mug in one hand, smirking.

“What if I told you there was no coffee left? Would you kill me?”

Logan raises an eyebrow, as if daring him to repeat it. Without a word, he pops out his claws, a metallic snikt slicing through the silence.

“Oh, I’m shaking!” Wade sneers, clearly egging him on.

“Deadpool, just get out of my way.” Logan tries to push past, but Wade laughs, making some obnoxious buzzing noise that apparently does the trick, because Logan grits his teeth and stabs him, right through the side.

You jump, stunned, watching as Logan’s claws slip back out, leaving Wade clutching his side. Blood pours out of the wound, and you’re about to call out when you realize that Wade’s grinning.

“Oh, there it is,” Wade says, inspecting the hole in his side, barely even phased. “You got me good, Wolvie. Was hoping you’d go for the chest, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“What the hell?” You can’t help but gape at him. “You’re bleeding, and you’re laughing?”

Wade winks, dropping his hand and letting you see that the wound is…healing. Muscles and tissue knit themselves back together, as if he hadn’t been stabbed at all. “Oh, yeah! Y/n, I forgot to mention one of my best features: I’m unkillable! Like an annoying houseplant that refuses to die. Cool, right?”

You blink, still trying to process. “So…no matter what happens to you, you just…keep coming back?”

“Yup! Think of it like this,” Wade says, throwing an arm around your shoulders, ignoring the sticky blood on his suit. “I am the miracle of human resilience, cranked up to eleven. Plus, I give Logan a stress outlet every morning. Win-win, really.”

“Wouldn’t call it a win,” Logan mutters, pouring his coffee. “If anything, you’re my worst nightmare.”

Wade smirks, turning to you. “Logan here’s my best friend. Don’t let him fool you.”

Logan takes a long, deliberate sip of his coffee, glaring over the rim. “One more word, Wade, and I’ll make it two stabs.”

“Oh, two stabs?” Wade clutches his chest dramatically. “Why, Mr. Howlett, you really know how to flatter a guy.”

“Honestly,” you mutter, looking at them, “this is the weirdest friendship I’ve ever seen.”

Logan glances over at you, grumbling, “It’s not a friendship. It’s a…complicated arrangement.”

Wade beams, throwing an arm around Logan’s shoulder, which Logan promptly shrugs off. “Call it whatever you want, sweetie.”

As they bicker, Laura enters the room, unfazed by the chaos. She gives you a nod of acknowledgment before grabbing a seat at the table, watching the two men as if this is just another morning.

“Y/n, how’s Wade treating you?” she asks, a smirk forming on her face.

You can’t help the sarcasm in your voice. “Oh, it’s just been fantastic. Nothing like witnessing multiple acts of violence before breakfast.”

She grins. “Get used to it. That’s pretty much every day around here.”

“Hey, I call it ‘combat therapy,’” Wade retorts, tossing her a wink. “You know, bonding time for the soul. Plus, Logan secretly loves it.”

You’re still processing all of this when Peter comes in, looking almost suspiciously normal, like a PTA dad in a nightmare of superheroes and chaos. He gives you a friendly wave, balancing a bag of bagels and a coffee tray.

“Morning, everyone!” Peter says, the only cheerful voice in the room. “Brought bagels for you all. Thought maybe today we could take it easy and just…you know, be normal for a while?”

Wade gasps. “Normal? Peter, buddy, you’re really asking a lot of me.”

“Don’t mind him, Peter,” you mutter, taking a bagel. “I think I’m the only sane one here.”

Peter gives you a sympathetic look. “I figured as much. Good luck with this crew, Y/n. If you ever need a sane friend, I’m your guy.”

Laura scoffs. “He doesn’t want ‘sane’ friends. If he did, he’d have run by now.”

You can’t argue with that. In fact, the thought does cross your mind—why didn’t you leave? But before you can dwell on it too long, Wade claps his hands.

“Today’s adventure awaits!” he announces, eyes alight with his usual chaotic energy. “We’ll start with breakfast and then…well, I’m not sure yet, but it’ll be something awesome.”

The group groans as Wade grabs his mask and heads for the door, beckoning for you to follow. Logan sighs, Laura grabs her knives, and Peter just looks resigned. But they all follow, like it’s a ritual they’re somehow tied to, and after a moment, you find yourself tagging along too.

The day is filled with antics. You lose track of the times Wade gets hurt, only to heal right in front of your eyes. Logan mutters that he’d be better off without Wade, only to punch him in the shoulder five minutes later with a hidden grin. Laura challenges Wade to a knife fight, and Peter just sighs, trying to keep everyone in line. And for the first time in…who knows how long, you’re laughing. Really laughing.

It’s almost night by the time you head back, the sky darkening as the city lights flicker on. You’re about to part ways and make your way home, but somehow, your feet keep taking you back to Al’s apartment. You know you don’t belong here, not really, but when you reach the door, there’s that same warmth—a strange pull you can’t ignore.

Wade notices you hesitate by the door and grins. “Aw, he’s back! See, I told you I’d be your favorite person in no time.”

“Don’t get too cocky,” you mutter, but you don’t turn to leave. Logan, Laura, Peter, and Al all glance at you, each with a look of welcome that they probably wouldn’t admit to feeling. It’s an odd sight, this bunch of misfits, but in some way, you realize that maybe they’re not as much of a mess as they seem. Maybe, just maybe, you’ve found something here that doesn’t completely suck.

“All right, all right, enough with the mushy stuff!” Wade says, breaking the silence. “Y/n, welcome back to Dysfunctional Central. We’re going to make you regret every second.”

You roll your eyes but smirk, stepping back inside and letting the door click shut behind you. Because this time, you don’t mind sticking around.

As night settles in over Blind Al’s apartment, the usual chaos of the group fades. Laura’s busy sharpening a blade on the couch, Logan’s nursing a beer in the corner, Peter is cleaning up the disaster of takeout containers from earlier, and Al is sitting near the window, her face turned toward the cool night breeze drifting in. Wade, in his typical way, is chattering aimlessly about everything and nothing at all, flipping between mocking TV commercials and talking up his latest “brilliant” idea for a reality show. And, as usual, you’re mostly tuning him out, feeling a mix of exhaustion and…something else. Something that’s starting to feel suspiciously like relief.

Wade breaks off suddenly, his head cocked as he glances over at you with a curious look. “So, Y/n,” he begins, his voice dropping a few notches in volume—a rarity. “How’s our little…adventure going? You feelin’ the spark of life yet? The whole, ‘maybe being alive doesn’t completely suck’ kinda thing?”

You shrug, fidgeting with the edge of your jacket. “I mean, it’s…been okay. You guys are insane, obviously, but it’s not the worst.”

Wade grins. “Insane and proud, baby. It’s kind of our brand. But don’t think I haven’t noticed your little act.” He leans in, dropping his voice even lower. “You’re good at the sarcasm, the deadpan thing. But I can see the cracks, kid. What’s under there?”

You freeze, not sure how to answer. Part of you wants to laugh it off, throw a sarcastic line his way, but something about the way Wade’s looking at you, uncharacteristically sincere, throws you off guard.

“Why’re you asking?” you mutter, looking away.

He shrugs, casual but not unkind. “Because, believe it or not, I give a damn. And because if I’m gonna help you out of whatever pit you’ve fallen into, I need to know where to start. So…give me the lowdown. What’s so bad it made you wanna bail on this whole rodeo?”

You swallow, throat tight. The last thing you want is to spill everything, to lay out every messy thought and feeling. But the words are there, just behind your teeth, begging to be let out after you’ve kept them buried for so long.

“It’s…” You hesitate, searching for the right words. “It’s not one thing, okay? It’s like…everything.”

Wade’s eyes don’t leave yours, an unspoken encouragement in his gaze.

You take a breath, still unsure, but the dam is cracking, and suddenly the words are pouring out before you can stop them. “I don’t know, Wade. I just—I feel like I don’t fit. Anywhere. I’ve tried, I really have, but no matter what I do, it’s like I’m some kind of outsider. The kid who’s always…wrong. Like I don’t belong in my own life. And the more I tried to fit in, the harder it got.”

Wade nods, not interrupting, just letting you talk.

“School was a nightmare,” you continue, voice barely above a whisper. “People either ignored me or treated me like I was invisible. Even my own family doesn’t seem to get me. I just…there’s no place for me. No one who actually cares, and it’s been that way for so long that I can’t remember a time it wasn’t. And I know you’re supposed to push through or whatever, but I just got so tired, Wade. Tired of always feeling like I’m on the outside looking in. Tired of being…me.”

You shake your head, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. “Everywhere I look, it’s like people have these lives, friends, family, things that give them a reason to wake up. But me? I don’t have anything, not really. So I started wondering…if I just disappeared, would anyone even notice? Would anyone care?”

Wade is quiet, watching you with an expression you can’t quite place. It’s not pity—thankfully, you don’t think you could stand that—but something softer, gentler.

“That’s why I went up there last night,” you admit, surprised by the honesty in your own voice. “Because I couldn’t stand the emptiness anymore. I thought maybe if I just…ended it, at least it would stop hurting, you know?”

There’s silence in the room now, even the usual background noise faded to nothing. You can feel the weight of your own words, a relief but also a vulnerability that makes you want to crawl out of your own skin.

After a moment, Wade shifts, sitting down next to you. “Hey, kid,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I know that feeling. I know it all too well.”

You glance at him, surprised. “You? You seem like you’ve got everything figured out.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Oh, kid. I may be the king of talking big, but I’ve been where you are. Hell, I’ve been to worse places. You think I’m here just ‘cause life handed me everything I wanted? Nope. I got scars, inside and out, that’d make your head spin. And you know what? That ‘don’t belong’ feeling? I had that too.”

Wade pauses, running a hand over his mask, which he’s bunched up in his hands. “I used to think…if I could just disappear, maybe that would be the best thing for everyone. And that was before I became…this.” He gestures to his scarred skin, his voice low but steady. “When you look like this, people either turn away or look at you like you’re some kind of monster. It was…lonely. Really, really lonely.”

You swallow, something in his words hitting close to home. “So what changed?”

Wade smiles, a bit of his usual spark returning. “Well, I guess I just got stubborn. Figured if the world didn’t want me, then I’d make my own place. Found people—well, like the circus act you met last night. Turns out, sometimes family’s not about blood. It’s about…finding people who see the worst parts of you and stick around anyway.”

“Not everyone has that,” you murmur, glancing at the floor.

“True,” Wade admits, his gaze softening. “But kid, here’s the thing: you’re still here. And now, you’ve got us—like it or not.” He gives you a wry smile. “You don’t have to carry that weight alone anymore. I get it, I really do, but there’s no shame in letting someone else help pick up the pieces. Maybe you just haven’t found your people yet…but you’ve got me, and the squad. We’re not perfect, but we don’t go down without a fight.”

You look at him, a strange warmth spreading through your chest despite the heaviness of the moment. For the first time, you feel like maybe someone actually understands. Maybe, just maybe, you’re not completely alone.

“Thanks,” you say, the word barely loud enough to hear. “For…listening.”

Wade grins, reaching out and patting your shoulder, a bit rough but oddly comforting. “Anytime, kid. I’m annoying, sure, but you won’t find anyone more loyal.” He gives you a wink. “Besides, I told you—I’m not letting you off the hook that easy.”

You chuckle, feeling a little lighter despite everything. “You really don’t give up, do you?”

“Nope. It’s a gift and a curse.” Wade stands, offering a hand to help you up. “Now, you and me? We’re gonna keep going until you see just how much life’s got to offer. I mean, look at me—scarred, hated, stabbed on a daily basis—and somehow, I’m still here.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. “You’re a walking disaster.”

“Guilty as charged,” Wade says with a laugh. “But hey, you stick around with us long enough, maybe we’ll rub off on you. Logan can teach you how to growl menacingly, and Laura can teach you how to stab with precision. Peter’s got the dad jokes covered. It’s a real all-inclusive experience.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, you feel a spark of hope. It’s small, fragile, but it’s there. Maybe life’s not all bright and shiny, and maybe you’ve got a long way to go, but with Wade and this dysfunctional crew, maybe there’s a chance you can start over. At the very least, you’re not alone.

“Alright,” you say, meeting Wade’s gaze with newfound determination. “I’ll give this a shot.”

Wade’s grin stretches wide, genuine. “That’s the spirit, Y/n! I knew you had it in you.” He throws an arm around your shoulder, squeezing a little too tight. “And hey, if it ever gets too tough, just remember—you’ve got us.”

You nod, letting yourself lean into the odd but reassuring presence of Wade by your side. For the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe there’s a path forward, one you don’t have to walk alone.

And with this crazy group, maybe that path won’t be as empty as the one you were on before.

if you liked the story don't forget to like, reblog and leave a comment if you want!

[emi-writings]

with all due respect, im not sure I follow your reasoning behind “CC!SBI doesn’t exist”. C!SBI I can understand and agree with, but SBI as a concept extends far beyond just ‘a joke one of them made while tired’?

the core of who is or isn’t “SBI” is pretty solely tied to MCC4, where they promised tommy that if they won he could be added to SBI. This shows, one, that it’s a label they at least use with one another (thus it isn’t just some ‘fandom’ invention with no basis), and two, established who was in SBI— Tommy had to be “formally” added, and since no one else was then the group remains “”exclusive””. Since then they’ve used the term to refer to that group of 4 many times (such as various 4/4 jokes, Techno’s gravity mod video being referred to as a ‘sleepy bois recording’ when being made, etc)

I definitely believe that SBI has multiplie associated CCs, such as Niki, Tubbo, Jack, etc— and I personally don’t care if ppl call them SBI as well! — but others may indeed be more shocked by that because SBI, the 4/4, in terms of the CCs, ….IS a pretty established thing?

I don’t want this message to come across as like. Aggressive or defensive, so I apologize if it has, but I’m just confused as to your own statement because it just seems Factually Incorrect to me— the roles they play may vary, but the people included are pretty clearly defined. Could you maybe clarify more?

So, I watch a lot of Philza streams, including the hardcore streams. And Phil has mentioned, multiple times, that the SBI term is unofficial. Yes, they acknowledge it and are aware of it, but Phil has repeated multiple times that it isn’t official. He’s said so before and after MCC4 (and honestly, do you really think they really would have banned Tommy from "exclusive SBI events" if they had lost?).

The whole SBI thing started out because Phil, Techno and Wilbur all thought that the idea of sending some random picture of a fish on twitter was funny, and Phil decided that maybe the fans should get at least some kind of context, so sent a message he thought was funny. But again, he has stated that it’s not an official term.

And a lot "SBI 4/4" things are made at the expense of fans (the Philza stream where they all kept leaving and joining, the Technoblade Twitch stream with a TommyInnit jumpscare at the end, etc).

It is a fan term. That doesn’t mean that it’s less valid. Especially since they do all care about their fans, so they do acknowledge it as something their fans want.

I feel like I have more to say about this, but I am also very eepy and capitalism is a hellscape. So.

My main point wasn’t even really about SBI, just about how on multiple websites (Tumblr, Ao3, Wattpad, Twitter), things are tagged as SBI and feature other CCs or Cs, but no one has made a fuss about them (like Ranboo, Tubbo, Fundy), but I add Niki in the mix and that’s were the line is.

[zyafics]

i don’t think he gets shit on i just think there is a disconnect in maturity; im not trying to say that all men are dumb but i think you depict the trope of you’re just a boy, soo sooo well. Its not about wanting a solution and wanting to ignore the bad and i understand a lot of ppl always want like positivity and good times, but negative emotions and lows are valuable. You could never value good if you didn’t know bad. I do think the reader was very emotionally immature in breaking up with Rafe instead of trying to communicate with him bc he genuinely does want to help- so that’s immature on her part, but also her inability to accept blame for the position she put Rafe in, she never let him in on the pain. Seeing it from an omniscient pov, you have more sympathy for Rafe bc you know how much he was thinking of her during the game and how badly he wanted to get to her. She would never know that all she sees is him not being there at the hospital. However!!!!! Rafe just doesn’t get it. He left her alone at the hospital, and he continued to leave her alone in experiencing the pain!!! He so badly wants to move past it like the pain of a miscarriage is something he would rather not feel. From the readers perspective he’s leaving her alone again, despite being there physically. She’s going through that pain alone. It also doesn’t help that it kind of felt like Rafe didn’t really want the baby. i can understand that he thinks he’s doing good, but that’s where his immaturity comes from is not being able to fully grasp that you can’t just “try again” for a baby. It’s so much more than that, and she can’t ever move on if she’s not given that space time experience all the emotions with that loss.

At the end of the day imo there are so many things that boys don’t experience as deeply in that age frame, they sometimes lack the ability to understand the gravity of a situation the same way girls do (reader specifically) and then they do ‘stupid’ things like putting a bandaid over a bullet hole. I think it also plays into how women are kind of always told to keep it together, it hurts even more that he makes it seem like her emotions are just a burden; reinforcing that idea of performing even in front of that one person who is supposed to know her whole soul.

all in all, if you never experience the entirety of the pain you can’t entirely heal from it; you don’t even understand what exactly your trying to heal from. they were both immature imo

i love ur analysis because you gave both their characters the benefit of the doubt <3 at the end of the day, it's truly about interpretation and perspective. rafe have been demonstrated time and time again that he's a 'proactive' person, but sometimes, situations don't require solutions! it requires grace, time and patience and rafe lwoeky didn't have that!

[devil-taemin]

I do think my relationship to my hair is 100% obsessive and dysfunctional

[pandemique]

come on dont be shy, write that sun/moon essay👍

even when tumblr don’t got me, i know anon got me 👍👍👍

🌞dream is a sun and a moon-lover

🌙george is a moon and a sun-lover

reasons below the cut!

i actually like that there’s discourse over this bc hearing everyone’s unique poetic takes is so enjoyable 🥰 but my belief is that it’s similar to the dnf dogboy/catboy consensus, because dream can be a dogBOY but a cat PERSON if he’s similar to a puppy but likes kittens. dream can be a sun personality type and be drawn to moon types, while george is vice versa.

☀️dream as a sun☀️

dream’s personality invites attention and exudes influence. he’s like the main character, the center of the system.

he almost ‘gives life to the world’ the way he brought fame to other streamers and joy to so many viewers

he’s like an ‘initiator/creator’ with how he comes up with most ideas and founded cultural reset typa shi like the dream smp

tl;dr he shines really bright and allows everyone else to reflect his light & shine along with him :]

(he’s also willing to burn for himself and for others, with how often he has to stand up for himself and people he loves against crazy & sometimes bad attention :[ )

florida man. leo boy. LOLLL

☀️dream as a moon-lover☀️

hopeless romantic!!!!!!!! the moon is a symbol of romance, heck even i myself have a whole song playlist named ‘lune’ (yeah shoutout musician!dream AHAH)

he prioritizes loyalty, appreciates beauty, and favors the people who keep him grounded

when asked what he likes most about george? once he answered humility (‘u don’t brag about your money or status or looks’) and in another, how he takes criticism well and is willing to change

🌙george as a moon🌙

sky @georgeliker found a quote that best encapsulates george’s moon side :>

“the moon is a loyal companion it never leaves, the moons connection to water and it’s tides represents our emotions and subconscious mind - what we see on the surface does not reflect what is going on underneath nor does it reveal its vast depths, it is reliable and straightforward but also inconceivably mysterious, beautiful and tickles our romantic instinct”

well-known for beauty, and for being a mystery, the depths of george lore will remain one of the 7 wonders of the world

everyone is drawn to him. his magnetic simp gravity........

george being known to bring up the mood in every call parallels how the moon brings up the tides

sky also mentioned the lunar phases which have been said to affect the mood, the way george seems to influence his environment easily :]

he doesn’t ‘shine as bright’ but he always shines, always cheerful, when it’s dark, when others aren’t feeling as up to it, when it counts

heck, he doesn’t even need to be present sometimes to indirectly change the course of history, /rp or otherwise

🌙george as a sun-lover🌙

“because it’s practical” LOL u know this summarizes everything

he’s drawn to bright & loving people :] also ppl with lots of influence & money SHSKSHDKS

he appreciates anyone and anything that is useful, even just a lil bit

a fan of colors despite being colorblind (abstract art as his pfp), and his fave biome is the flowers <33

☀️🌙 dnf dynamic 🌙☀️

“Tell me the story about how the sun loved the moon so much, he died every night to let her breathe” oh, the same way dream would do anything to make george happy? 🥴🤧🤕

“the sun is constant... sometimes (George) sleeps through the day, but it’s okay, because he knows the sun will be there tomorrow as well” -this post i love by @gogysglasses

dream recognizes that there’s so much more to george beyond his pretty surface and is obsessed with knowing every detail, the true keeper of george lore o7

george knows exactly how to calm dream down and keep him going, and has his phone number set to pass through do not disturb because ‘he needs him sometimes’, often easing his anxieties

“George, i’m gonna blow up, come with me” -> Dream’s light reflecting causes George to shine with him, and change the world together <3

the way they ‘link’ and don’t have to speak to understand each other, and having each other’s presence around like in calls even though they’re miles and miles away is enough to calm them & make them happy

the gravity that pulls them together is too strong ;)

written in the stars maybe?

the chances are so, so slim, but when they do meet, the whole world is eclipsed and can only watch in awe :)

🌍 by the way, hotheaded young sapnap is definitely the earth. they all revolve around each other :) 🌏

aand as thank u for sitting through my rambles, here’s a sun/moon!dnf doodle i made for yesterday’s 404cord alt stream recap!

[tomatograter]

Do you think Dirk saying that he doesn't like to label himself as gay means he has internalized homophobia? Or does he really just don't like to put labels on himself? I've seen ppl saying it's homophobia but there's ppl in real life that don't feel comfortable with labels so I'm a bit confused honestly, cus we are talking about Dirk and he's... Dirk after all

Easy answer: Dirk is Gay.

Prolonged answer: I think it's kinda weird how some fandom discussion around "Dirk dodging the label in One pesterlog" has largely spiraled way outside of its original context to be talked about in a vacuum, especially when that context is crucial to understanding what is actually being said, AKA — it belongs to a deeply awkward conversation between Dirk and Roxy. One of Many they are implied to have had about the subject of Roxy's sustained, unwelcome, and oft drunken advances towards Dirk (& his splinters).

I'm going to reproduce it plus another bit of text down below, for the sake of comparison.

(To prevent the trickster text from looking like absolute shit, I have altered the background. Read the original here, if you're nasty: https://www.homestuck.com/story/5754 )

Now that we've been reacquainted with how and where that sentiment is expressed, let's try to break down what Dirk is doing here.

He is not receptive to Roxy's early advances, and spends most of the 'intro' for this conversation (not pictured) ignoring when Roxy flirts with him, until she gets upset at how 'boring' he is being right now.

Dirk is the one compelled to apologize.

He proceeds to shut the scenario down as an unwanted probability, eliciting further guilt-babbling from Roxy over how Dirk never wants to play along with the perfect traditional family fantasy, until she finally blows up and says it's because he's gay.

"I mean, yeah, that's what I thought."

Dirk, rather than saying I Am Not Gay, since he looooooves changing a conversational subject, claims that "Gay" is not entirely historically appropriate for this situation, given the non-negligible passage of time and the wildly dystopic circumstances* they find themselves in.

Dirk reassures Roxy he does still care about her.

Dirk is absolutely terrified of a similarly inclined (and intoxicated) Roxy up close. This is the most exclamations he's ever used.

Now, *These circumstances? The loss of 99% of the human race, including their society, customs, culture, and prejudices. (ALLEGEDLY.) It's important to remember that from Dirk and Roxy's side of the timetable, troll culture has been pushed as "the norm" for actual fucking centuries. HIC tried to recreate the caste system by artificially coloring human blood, leading to the death of billions. Faygo came out of the water tap, not water. Troll slang was incorporated into the English language. Humans ceased to organically reproduce. They were actively Discouraged from reproducing, since that's not something HIC could have total genetic control over; rendering traditional marriage and the concept of the nuclear family pointless.

You could also argue that same-gender relationships are not uncommon in Alternia, making "gay" altogether unnecessary by proxy, and that's true! But my point is this one: any union (or at least our society's holy concept of it) between straightie humans would be by definition undesirable under HIC's rule, too. She is the church, the president and the governing body. The population is only as good as they are assets for her to do whatever she wants with, including mass murder.

But wait! While that tracks… Roxy clearly still holds onto very 'conservative' definitions of romance for most of Homestuck. We see this multiple times. Dirk, as proved in conversations with Jake, uses 'gay' as an ironic pejorative. Suddenly it's not Historically Inaccurate anymore, Jake's interests are just gay.

Does this mean the context above is basically worthless, since they don't seem to have internalized it? No.

What must be kept in mind is this: Dirk and Roxy's only "active" link to de facto humanity is our society as it was in the early 2010's. Those glimpses they get by talking with jane and jake. They have all that dystopic context, yes, but the reality that seems the most "unfucked" to them for a grand majority of their lives are the halcyon years before the Condesce's rise to power: back when weed was illegal, BlogSpot was popular, movies sucked, MTV was still a hip channel, and gay generally meant something real bad. The wave of homophobia as a punchline or fear mongering tactic was at THE HEIGHTS. Marriage equality was a hot debate topic. Those were the dayz.

Dirk is keenly aware of the taboo implication the word "Gay" as a self-denomination carries. He's no dummy. But he's rarely direct with his intentions either. He's slippery as a bar of soap. (He's never "straight about his feelings", if you prefer.) And for a guy that cares so much about his reputation and maintaining a curated sense of utter coolness, he wants to avoid outing himself as any sort of weirdo no matter the cost.

But that's not all. I think the gravity of just how much Dirk believes he *owes* Roxy simply for existing as the last human in the same timeframe as her is a severely underplayed aspect of Dirk's core character, together with how much he tries to avoid her sexual advances only to end up feeling like absolute shit over it, because — if they truly are the last people on god's blighted earth, isn't he being "selfish" and "irrational" about not feeling shit for Roxy, in the grand scale of things? Is Roxy not his only friend in tangible reality, even if he avoids the mere suggestion of visiting her? Even if she gets black-out drunk and tries to push him into indulging her, regardless of how many times he's already said no?

(Spend enough time here and you realize how it directly mirrors the jane/jake experience.)

Dirk cares a lot about each and every one of his friends.

He pointedly adapts his speech based on whichever one of them he's talking to in an effort to express that investment. May it be reassuring Jane, fooling around with Jake, or trying to prevent Roxy from falling into a total catatonic doom-spiral; he avoids telling them anything that would be too crushing to hear. That's not what he's trying to do here. Not to say that he isn't bitchy sometimes, but that’s far from the central thing he does. The Epilogues have retroactively led people to believe that Dirk abhors and despises every single person he's ever been close to before (god forbid) LIKING them, and I think buying too much into that assumption ignores the foundations of his canon text, as well as the central motivation behind 99% of his actions in the story. This is the guy that grew up on Friendship Is Magic, has a picture of rainbow dash shamefully glued to one wall and a rainbow poster of Jake's symbol stapled to another, and everything he does is a little cringe attempt to demonstrate his worth by showing how much he cares about people, even when he's punching his actual feelings down instead of up and saying them.

Which brings us back to the load-bearing part of this question: Admitting to Roxy that there is absolutely no fucking way he will ever agree to having her babbys because he is gay is precisely the opposite of what Dirk wants to say, if his intention isn't pulverizing her. So he doesn't. And his worry on this regard is such that it prevents Dirk from even telling Roxy that he does love her, in the platonic sense, as a friend and hell-earth survivor, because he knows that specificity is what that would disappoint her greatly. (He only ever confesses this to Jane, on the death slabs.)

But also I think this is a really funny visual of Dirk's relationship with the word gay, to put statements into perspective:

[transgnckon]

I loved Lagoona video SO MUCH. ppl getting mad bc she’s Latino and she described herself as sweet and spicy …. Girl none of u guys cared abt it when she acted like it in the show and the movie but when she said it in the music video it matters?! 😤😤

Hmmm Maybe it’s just me but This feels a bit dismissive idk. like i thought the music video was cute overall too!! I really was hoping that if they did a song for Lagoona it would be like latin pop vibes so I was very excited when that seemed to be the case but I also want to say I think it’s understandable for ppl to be a bit iffy abt it even if I don’t think it was intentional thing

I haven’t seen the movie I can’t speak on it & the vibes I’ve gotten from cartoon lagoona haven’t felt like a spicy latina stereotype like I just got some classic weird girl vibes you occasionally get from cartoon girls like Webby in the Ducktales 2017 reboot & Mabel from Gravity falls so to me it didn’t bother me there & why I don’t think anyone felt the need to rlly say anything abt cartoon Lagoona

But putting that to the side I do get why some people aren’t fans of Lagoona being described as spicy since for a lot of people it has a negative stereotype that’s used to fetishize latina women attached to it? Idk I wouldn’t dismiss the concern entirely??

[sokkagatekeeper]

hi it just occurred me that (at least for what i remember) zuko never said to the gaang exactly how he gained his scar and like,, what would u think it would be their reactions? or maybe they already realised it but didn't comment about it? if they found out/zuko told them what would be the situation? idk my brain is doing backflips and i figured if someone would have a take on this w/o making them seem OOC it would be u

(also sorry for any typos, english isn't my first language lol)

once zuko joins the gaang, he must find himself going thru a period of adaptation. he doesn’t have the time or the motivation to just randomly open up, teary and emotional about his traumatic experiences. zuko may be an oversharer but his motivations are also very simple. he probably mentions it casually once or twice, not just the scar but the rest of the horrible things that went down in the palace. but i do doubt he would tell the story a) in fear of judgement b) looking for pity or compassion c) as anything else but a casual complaint. the same way he says, “the worst father in the history of fathers” just like that. a plain, clear, righteous statement. as if it known, or as if after it became obvious to him that it was messed up, it should be to everyone else.

sokka finds out on his own, that is, if his paranoia doesn’t drive him to interrogate zuko directly right after he joins the gaang. unlike katara’s threat, sokka looks for answers, and since zuko isn’t particularly a private person it would be easy for sokka to understand the lengths of ozai’s abuse even if there’s no actual mention of zuko’s scar or banishment or the exact circumstances given. sokka is a smart boy, he can take a guess. once he warms up to zuko, he won’t ask, but he will offer some of his own traumatic experiences always at the right time, and zuko will answer with a story from his childhood to even it out. they don’t share reassurances while sharing stories, those come later, in different, quieter ways. but that’s it. they’ve always had this way of understanding each other with little words.

aang is very perceptive, and he sees zuko flinch from the flames (aang’s flames) enough times to understand that the scar was given to zuko by someone he trusted. loved, even. i don’t doubt that if aang’s knew ozai had given zuko his scar aang’s conflict about whether or not he should kill ozai would remain exactly the same since what many ppl don’t seem to understand is the situation has as its center aang, and not ozai, zuko, sokka, or anyone else. rather i think aang would be gentle and subtle about it. he would ask a few times, he’d say things like ‘you know it was wrong, right?’ very carefully & in the right time bc he knows zuko is... unstable, to say the least. but as i said before, once zuko understands the gravity or the wrongness of the situation, the entire thing becomes simple to him, so he just says, ‘yeah’ and that’s about it.

it takes aang casually asking zuko if his scar ever hurts for toph to find out he even has a scar, but when it comes down to it toph is direct about it. she doesn’t even think twice before asking once the question occurs to her, and zuko answers easily. zuko and her have an understanding of each other’s situations that no one else can fully grasp the full scope of, the atmosphere of that abusive home and the enormity of the things their parents took. for them, it’s natural. it’s simple. they say things like they are, and the same way zuko will tell toph about his scar and toph will understand, toph will share her own stories from her home, and zuko will understand.

suki doesn’t ask, because that’s none of her business. when sokka tells her, or when zuko casually mentions it while making a comment of the ‘worst father in the history of fathers’ sort, she isn’t as horrified as others might be, but it’s still a low blow. suki is used to war injuries, things she can blame on violent politics. child abuse is another step entirely. but suki is also the person that can me jokes about the situation that zuko will laugh at. suki is chill enough that she knows zuko doesn’t want coddling or reassurance, merely acknowledgement.

katara asks, because why wouldn’t she? they’re friends, she wants to know what hurt her friend. she asks, maybe during the week they spent looking for her mother’s killer, maybe after, in ember island when they actually had time to breathe for a few days. maybe after canon, while zuko was still recovering. whatever the scenario, when zuko tells her, katara does have the most standard initial reaction. she probably cries, she probably rages. she hugs him and she tells him, ‘it was wrong, you know? it was so wrong’ and she curses ozai to hell and back. zuko, bless his heart, acts like the most awkward person in the planet during the whole ordeal, but he sorta gets it, so it’s ok. after that they don’t bring it up again or talk about it in-depth like zuko and sokka would, or even zuko and toph. they leave it at that, for both of their sakes, but zuko knows if he ever were to ask, katara would listen.

overall there’s no great reveal, there’s not many tears from zuko, really, at least not when they all first find out. while the scar is the most obvious sign of what zuko went though, it’s still just the tip of the iceberg. while zuko has no problem opening up to his friends, the realizations of the events of his childhood will have a clear impact on his psyche, and that takes time to tell as well. but it’s just like sokka and katara telling zuko the story of how their mom died, or aang telling zuko about the air nomads, making their absence ten times more heavy, or toph telling them about how her parents used her vulnerability against her. all of them went through some rough shit, and the way they would treat zuko’s scar is no different than how they would treat any other tragedy. they go through it together.

[brydeswhale]

People hating Mabel for being a child and having crushes and wanting romances, yet they don't look down on Dipper for his unattainable crush on Wendy??? Like, when Dipper wanted Mabel to just "get over" losing her pig in that time-line so he could "be with" Wendy even though it still wouldn't have ever became anything more than a friendship.

What’s interesting is that the pig episode itself calls out Dipper’s behaviour by having Wendy as a child approaching him with a crush, showing how strange and awkward it would be from the other side of his weird obsession. It was just that fandom drank too much of that misogyny flavoured soda to really get it.

I always feel like some people’s reaction to Mabel and to Sansa from ASIOAF were pretty similar. They were both really rooted in the whole “not like other girls/I’m a geek and girls didn’t like me bc I like comics” that really encapsulated a LOT of 00s-early tens position on female characters only being acceptable as either waiflike assassin types or alienated NLOG. Mabel and Sansa somehow both represented the girls these ppl resented in middle school.*

(Also can we please divorce the idea that NLOG just means GNC? I’ve known a LOT of GNC girls throughout my life and VERY few of them were NLOGs. Most NLOGs I’ve known and been were actually hyper-feminine in a very puritanically conserve way. Sarah Z is a good youtuber, but she was way off base on that one.)

Of course, I don’t mean to put all of the backlash on Mabel at fandom’s feet. The creative team certainly loved to “call” Mabel on her “selfishness”. There’s an entire comic post-series about her discovering how horribly selfish she is and how everyone around her is so wonderfully wonderful for putting up with her.

Quick note: I do not believe there is a similar comic where Dipper comes to terms with his insufferable arrogance and borderline “nice guy” syndrome, but i don’t know where our collection of gravity falls comics went, because we moved twice since then.

But at the same time, I don’t believe the creative team really expected fandom to be as misogynistic as it was and, to a certain extent, still is. Such vitriol did fall slightly out of favour post gravity falls and “younger” fandoms now seem to reserve their ire mainly for characters of colour.

I think they really intended Mabel to be seen as simply a likeable young girl with some unique flaws. Especially since they quickly matched her against the much more traditionally antagonistic Pacifica Northwest.

But I think a combination of a failure to understand their own internalized misogyny and a failure to understand how virulently hateful their older audience was kind of foreshadowed Mabel’s reception amongst certain audience members. Which, since Mabel was basically THE main female character, was almost predictably horrible.

Anyhow, hope this makes sense, I took my melatonin a bit ago and now I’m kind of falling asleep.

* completely off topic, but I think Sansa and Mabel would absolutely be great friends. They’re both crafty and cute, almost the same age, they both have annoying siblings who dismiss them and their interests as stupid, they’re both much closer to one caregiver than the other, they both like pets. They’d get along like a house on fire.

[propshophannah]

umm i think ppl are over reacting,, az was not being toxic or possesive, he's been pining for elain for 3 years and he now knows she feels the same way for him,, and to the ppl that said that him being turned on was creepy,, wait till we see elains pov bc im pretty sure she was thinking the same. pls it's okay to not like scenes and characters and ships but cmon,, some eluciens are butchering him

Hi Nonnie! I heard that the fandom was getting crazy so I’ve been avoiding looking at posts and stuff. If Az came off creepy it wasn’t because he was turned on. LMFAO. Elain was turned on, too. SHE ALSO INITIATED THE ENTIRE SCENE! We don’t even need her POV to tell us what she wanted either—Maas straight up tells us this in that scene. LOL to everyone who skipped that part and those lines. I mean… it wasn’t even subtext. It was literally written on the page. (I’m writing an analysis of that scene, stay tuned!)

If he came off creepy, it was because he articulated a sense in entitlement—which given the situation wasn’t entirely out of line! Sorry, it just wasn’t. 

And here’s why: We’ve all had moments where we are so fucking mad—and everything around us seemed to be going in everyone else’s favor BUT ours—so we got angry. And vengeful. And we got a little lost in those feelings, some of us drowned in them, and we did things and said things and we came off like a fucking asshole. FACTS.

If some people think that’s never happened to them, then they’re either lying to themselves or not paying attention to themselves. It’s as simple as that, Nonnie. 

We all do dumb, potentially toxic things when we’re mad or upset. That’s the law of the land and not one single person in the fandom, or the world, is above that. Not. One. 

And LETS. BE. REAL. Elain is NOT above reproach for the role she *actively* plays in this cluster fuck. She is just as guilty of stringing Lucien and Az along in that she hasn’t made a decision on whether to accept or reject the mating bond. Or in just saying “Look, Lucy, babe, I don’t like this. It’s stressing me out. Please leave me alone for the next 2.5 years or until I say ‘when’ before you come around again. Thanks!” She doesn’t even need to say it to Lucien. THAT’S THE KICKER. She could tell Feyre. Tell one of the Shadows to tell Feyre or Rhys or Mor and Nesta OR ANYONE with the power to say “Hey, we can’t invite Lucy to Solstice because Elain doesn’t want it.” This is a situation where getting other people to play the bad guy for you, is 100% socially acceptable. 

Hell, LUCIEN could be the one to initiate this. To pick up on what Elain IS NOT THROWING OUT and say, “Hey, Rhys, babe. Thanks for the Solstice invite, but I don’t think Elain appreciates my presence, and I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. How about I send you her gift from me, then I, like, check in every now and then and you can find a way to let her know I’m in town and if you invite me to dinner, I’ll take that as a sign that she’s okay with me being there for dinner and nothing more. No expectations.” It’s not hard. 

(We could argue that Lucien continuing to come around IS JUST AS WEIRD/CREEPY. READ THE ROOM DUDE.)

Now I WILL say that there is an argument to be made that Elain *may* not grasp the gravity of a mating bond because she was born in a different culture. That’s totally fair. BUT she’s had plenty of time to learn what that means having spent so much time around Feyre and Rhys and the others. 

So the idea that Azriel is the only one who deserves to be vilified is nonsensical. 

ALSO, and this is something I will be including in the analysis I’m working on and will hopefully finish tomorrow (I’m going to break that Az POV down so that everyone and their third cousin, twice removed, can understand), is that AZRIEL’S WHOLE SHTICK IS WAITING.  He looooves to wait. Fucking LOVES it. It’s his whole job y’all. It’s weird, and related to his daddy issues when you apply it to females, but it’s his life. He LITERALLY tells us this in ACOSF. Remember at the end when Cassian is complaining about how he HATES spying because he has no patience? 

Az is like “It seems you’ve forgotten how much of spying is waiting for the right moment. People don’t engage in their evil deeds when it’s convenient to you.” 

Cassian explains why he stopped spying because it ��...bored him to death. I don’t know how you put up with this all the time.” 

Az says, “It suits me.”

 BOOM.

BOOM.

BOOM.

MF BOOOOOM.

Az likes to play the long game. Not saying it’s healthy, but that suits him. He’s good at waiting. He HAD TO BE. HE WAS LOCKED AWAY FOR YEARS AND HAD TO WAIT FOR THE CHANCE TO SEE HIS MOTHER. And the sun. And his hateful brothers. He doesn’t know any better/how else to be. And there is a lot of trauma and conflicting feelings tangled in this. 

It’s only creepy when you fail to grasp the nuance. But if you stand too close to a painting, you can’t see the whole thing. Back up, people. Back up.

Az has spent his whole life waiting. It’s how he learned to be. And now that his brothers are all happily mated he’s looking back on all his waiting—on his entire life—and he’s having a crisis. Or a crisis is looming. What has his waiting gotten him? Why has his patience not been rewarded? Why not him?

You combine that thinking with anger and you’ve got a recipe for momentary entitlement. For rage so thick and consuming that you want to punch a wall and work yourself to death because at least when you’re working you can compartmentalize and not deal with the reality that YOUR ENTIRE LIFE MODEL hasn’t worked for you. That you got left behind somewhere and it was your fault.

Az is headed for a mid-life crisis or an emotional breakdown—or some big horrific moment where he realizes he can’t keep doing what he’s been doing, that his entire world is built on a foundation that’s crumbling. And if you’ve never ever had that happen to you, then I’m jealous. And I’m happy for you. Because it’s terrifying. Bloody awful fucking terrifying.

[f-nodragonart]

How do you draw folded bat wings? I tried to look up references but it looks so dark and such a mess that I can't figure out what's going on. All my dragons have their wings sticking out and I want them to relax and fold their wings, but I can't figure it out.

first, know that having a good grasp on wing anatomy is the first step, so I rec checkin out my crash-course on vertebrate wings, if u need it. I’ll try to summarize some of the more relevant points when necessary here, tho

that said, real-life folded bat wings are actually a lot messier than u might expect, as bat bones/joints are SUPER-duper flexible

tho this may also be a consequence of their legs/hips being right there, splayed out where the ends of their fingers fold up, and other body types prolly wouldn’t require that particular zig-zig crinkling of the fingertips

I also doubt that that level of flexibility would even be available in the bones/joints of dragons as large as horses, or even just dogs, though I could be wrong about that

either way, I’ll give you some examples of how I approach folded bat wings in my designs

so here we’ve got a standard folded bat wing. note that the LOWER arm is the most visible portion of the the arm anatomy-- the lower arm pulls up over the upper arm, and the fingers curl up under both arm sections 

the “tightness” of the folding can vary, depending on the look you want. real-life bats obviously have CRAZY flexible wrists, and can tuck their fingers snug up against their arms/bodies all the way down. and I’m sure you could pull the wrist up a lil closer to the shoulder if need be. however, I believe the position as I’ve drawn-- with the lower arm hanging a bit down towards the front of the body, and the fingers loosely tucking in-- could be a perfectly comfortable, relaxed position for folded bat-dragon wings. this is especially considering that bat wings would be located more towards the midline/sides of the torso rather than right up near the spine like birds, meaning gravity would pull on them a bit more easily, possibly lending to this loose pose. BUT that also depends on the exact wing muscle configuration-- wings generally have pretty good ‘locking’ mechanisms when tucked closed, so tighter tucking is a perfectly reasonable possibility

I will note that wings ought not to be tucked up on top of the back. even bird wings located closer to the spine don’t rest their wrists above the shoulders-- the wings still hang to the sides, with the wrists held near the front of the body

I can’t imagine that pulling the wings back constantly is very comfortable, much less a position that affords the wing muscles any rest

tho the elbows would prolly need to be pulled next to or above the hips a bit, so the elbows don’t interfere with hind leg movement

on that note, also notice the anatomical proportions of the wings and how they affect the look of the folded wing. the upper arm of a wing will ALWAYS be shorter than the lower arm, so when they’re folded up, the wrist will stick out in front of the shoulder. usually even in front of the front limb shoulders, depending on the size of the wings (I think I drew these wings a bit small in comparison to body size, but we’ll just pretend this guy ain’t a particularly strong flyer)

the finger proportions are actually very similar to human fingers, in that the sections closest to the wrist are longest/thickest, while the sections closer to the tips are shorter/thinner. this means that when the fingers fold up, the bases will have long sections without joints, while the tips will be able to curl quite tightly, which you may be able to visualize more precisely here

the bend back under the arm at the 3rd joint may, admittedly, be a bit too sharp even by bat standards, so the fingers may still need to follow the line of the body

but I still think the fingers should be able to curl up under the arm just fine, honestly

now, while it’s important to know the underlying structures here, also note that certain parts of the folded wing (like fingertips) simply won’t be visible due to the membrane

and this is where folded wings get tricky-- not only is it hard to keep track of what’s covered up, but also what sections are connected to one another! hopefully the above diagram helps you visualize how the membrane lays over the overall arm structure at least, but being able to follow membrane connections in different positions takes a bit of familiarizing with overall wing anatomy

(also note that for ease of seeing the base anatomy, I’m not adding in most of the membrane wrinkles I usually would. just keep in mind that bat membranes are embedded w/ a lotta lil tendons that help scrunch up the membrane and hold the wings steady)

I will at least point out one particular section of membrane that trips folks up a lot

here, it’s important to remember that the back edge of the membrane (specifically the plagiopatagium section), connecting back onto the body, is ALSO connected to the back of the arm AND the pinkie finger. thus, we must keep in mind the flow of this section of membrane in the folded wing. note that it may very well cover up part of the visible finger(s) (particularly the pinkie) just before they tuck underneath the arm, as I’ve shown above

now, something fun about bat wings is that they’ve got ROTATION in their wrists! so, unlike birds, you can give yourself some freedom in how many of the fingers are visible, when folded up

I WILL say, though, that real-life bats seem to go for the latter folding, more reminiscent of a bird folding their wrist sideways next to their lower arm rather than curling the wrist underneath the lower arm. but, again, bats have way more leeway in wrist flexion, so I think any of these wrist positions are perfectly possible for a bat-winged dragon

and this flexion will also be affected by the kinda palm you give your wings. while many dragon artists give their dragons humanoid palms, real-life bats don’t actually have palms-- the metacarpals that make up our palms are actually the base bones of bat wing fingers. thus, bats just have a tiny connection area of carpals to connect fingers to arm, allowing for a frankly crazy range of flexion. while I’m not sure about how exactly a palm might affect flight, I don’t think they’re necessarily a problem so long as they’re downsized (palms proportionally the size of human palms compared to the arm would be WAY too heavy/thick for flight..) and retrofit for flight in shape (think about oncoming air currents and what parts of the palm would need to be more/less stabilized or aerodynamically shaped)

also note that, if the wing has a thumb and it’s visible, then the front edge membrane (propatagium) is gonna attach to it

like so (depending on the exact position of the thumb, of course)

now, I know some dragon artists like to curl the tips of the fingers up over the elbows, like this

and like, sure, the tips may be visible past the back edge of the membrane, if you go for the finger-tuck where the fingers follow the line of the body. or if the fingertips aren’t typically bat-like, but are stiffer and incapable of comfortably curling up. I’m specifically thinking of designs with faux-feather cartilage, or those with pterosaur-like fans of cartilage fibers across the membrane, leading to more bird-like folding

but idk, this desire to pull the fingertips up over the membrane THAT far seems uncomfortable and unnecessary? like, I really don’t understand why a dragon wouldn’t simply tuck their fingertips up against their body, following underneath the membrane, as a bat does. if anyone wants to argue me this point, I’m willing to hear it out tho

so, I know that was a lot of hyper-specific info, but if you step back for a minute and just take in the overall look of a folded bat wing, it turns out folded bat wings are WAY easier than most ppl realize!

truly, so many people overthink like, where the fingertips end up, or how the membrane overlays the arm. but once you understand how it all fits together, you can condense the look of it into basic shapes like this

and you can add or subtract detail depending on your style, how defined you want the arm to be from the membrane, how wrinkly/detailed you want the membrane, etc.

hope this helps!

-Mod Spiral

[mueritos]

You know not all transmeds are bad people, right? Yes you may not agree with their ideologies, but not all of them are like Blaire or Kalvin. Not all of them push their thoughts onto others or ignore a person's pronouns simply because they don't agree. They still try to be polite. At the end of the day, you're generalizing them, just as some transmeds tend to do as well.

I’ve had this ask in a while now and at first I was mulling over it and now I just look back and laugh. This is the equivalent of Trump saying “there are good people on both sides.” Here’s the thing: I recognize that on each side of an issue the people that comprise them are individuals. What I don’t recognize is the fact that the ones with harmful rhetoric are excused for not being as open or as assertive about it as others in their community. This lengthy so I will insert a read more. Not proof reading this so if there's spelling mistakes just get over it.

There is a spectrum to bigotry from violent and genocidal fascists to white women who clutch their purse just a little bit more tightly once a brown man enters the elevator with her; the point is is that it’s still bigotry. Here's the amazing thing about bigotry: we all perpetuate it. Yes, that means even the largest of saints are still capable of backwards thought. That’s quite clearly the point. For example, its not enough to say you’re not racist, no, because saying that gives a person enough feelings of validation to feel like they don’t have to examine their own internalized thoughts/feelings/ideas. What SHOULD be hailed as correct is to say you are ANTI-racist. The addition of the word ANTI signals two things: 1, you are AGAINST racism, and 2, you are working to be AGAINST racism. This includes keeping up with current events, listening to others’ experiences, learning when to be quiet, etc.

So how does this relate to the idea that all transmeds are transphobes? Well, we’ve already established that everyone is and are capable of bigotry on various levels. I feel I’ve already explained why transmed ideology is already transphobic before, but just to summarize why I personally do not subscribe to it: I refuse to partake in neocolonialism. Transmed ideology is a direct erasure of indigenous trans and gender variant identities/peoples by the assumption that trans or gender variant identities are rooted in medical diagnosis/treatment, and also by the assumption that gender dysphoria is a byproduct of transness when really its a byproduct of a Eurocentric society. Essentially, colonization sucks and is the reason why trans identities are so controversial in the first place (literally one of the first things that Christopher Columbus did when he set foot in America was round up all of the Two-Spirit people and set his dogs on them).

Okay, so I said my opinion with a bunch of fancy words, so what? The issue here boils down to neocolonialism. What europeans did to America (yes America and not THE AMERICAS, people seem the forget that north and south american are literally ONE continent) is obviously still evident today. In other words, what colonization did to the world is still evident today, and I think it’s incredibly important to be aware of how it’s still being perpetuated today. Rigid ideas of gender are just not true and to think that they were always so is just so false...”It was something of a historic coup to enforce the notion of two fixed, idealized genders that we now consider natural. Speaking in strictly physical terms, many perfectly healthy people are born intersexed, with male and female physiological characteristics, showing that these categories exist on a fluid continuum” (Anarchy Works, Peter Gelderloos). I’m not sure if you can understand the GRAVITY of the quote above, but this is not just online discourse, my friend. Trans identities have always existed, you see this in native Two-Spirits and in los Muxes from Oaxaca, Mexico, and biological variation is a natural and healthy phenomena that occurs in ALL species (and in fact is necessary for species survival). Concepts and ideas of “otherness” originated from colonizers with fucked up religions and capitalist greed. When we refuse to accept experiences other than our own (non-dysphoric/poc gnc trans ppl/mogai), when we refuse to listen to science and history (biological variation, indigenous trans identities), when we refuse to own up to the fact that evidence and science changes (”gendered brains” has been disproven yet still heralded as evidence for transmeds, etc), we are not only denying our perceived reality, we are perpetuating centuries of violence. 

Do I believe all transmeds are bad people? No, and I never said that. I just said transmed is transphobic. I am someone who believes in change as I have seen it occur in people I never thought possible. My father called my uncle a f*ggot for marrying late and today he is unlearning the years of hate instilled in him by a society that teaches to oppress and colonize. My mother told me no one would ever see me as a man, and today she calls me her son. Their comments were bigoted, but they are working to not be so.  THAT is what matters. I let my thoughts and my ideas and my research be presented publicly in hopes that someone may question something they were taught to be true, or in hopes that someone may learn to understand others better, etc. I focus my efforts on those are trying to understand, not on the ones who are just “polite” and sit on the sidelines watching with disgust in their minds. You may not necessarily be a “bad” person for subscribing to transmed rhetoric, but one should not deny the fact that transmed rhetoric is transphobic/racist/colonialist. If you are not working to be against bigotry, you are part of the problem. Decolonize yourself.

I hope this cleared things up. If I have some information incorrect, pls let me know. If you also have additional information, please add! If you would like additional reading/viewing:

Anarchy Works:

 https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/peter-gelderloos-anarchy-works (Ch 1. Human Nature)

Los Muxes:

 https://youtu.be/iiek6JxYJLs

https://theculturetrip.com/north-america/mexico/articles/a-brief-history-of-muxe-mexicos-third-gender/

Two-Spirit:

https://kitschmix.com/two-spirit-spiritual-concept-gender-native-tribes/

 https://www.ihs.gov/lgbt/health/twospirit/

http://plainshumanities.unl.edu/encyclopedia/doc/egp.gen.004

[magnaflourious-nerdity]

But Through Darkened Glasses

(You Need Chaos in Your Soul)

" And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you."

There was a prompt on some Halloween themed fandom challenge for October. Monday's was 'Black Cat' and for whatever reason. This is what happened. Bc im just going with that kind of thing lately I guess, I decided to spit it out here. I didn't beta this thoroughly enough I guarantee bc im lazy and also the fandom is like 20 people big, and generally full of forgiving, lovely, content starved ppl. The last point I am extrapolating from my own experiences of being in the fandom, haha.

_____

It's weird, he thinks, twining in and out of the fence post he's been following for the past few minutes, trying to get his bearings now that he's been saddled with twice his accustomed amount of limbs. It's weird that I'm not more freaked out about this. He pauses, grooms himself briefly and crosses the street under the lamp light. The bulb blows out halfway across. He doesn't even jump this time. Maybe it's a bonus of having nine lives, you don't worry so much about one or two practice runs. His ears twitch minutely as the wind shifts and brings a low, buzzing, sound sighing through the fronds of the willow at the edge of his yard. They're even more sensitive now that he's a cat- the ears that is -twitching at the slightest whisper of a sound in the night.

He doesn't even bother to slow his pace as he hops the fence and passes through his own back yard, simply fixing jade eyes on the window he knows to be Becky's, turning them away again with the knowledge that there's no way she'd be at home tonight. Not on a night where she's basically been given free reign to go full-tilt feral social-climber on every party in town. There's no gaining entrance into his lair in his current state (nor is he particularly keen to meet Rasputin face to face right now either) and his parents are out of the question. Can't guarantee his dad won't be too drunk this late on a Halloween to tie a bottle rocket to his newly acquired tail. Don't really care to see him if he's sober either. Or just in general

Instead, His attention remains fixed on the sound he'd heard in the distance before, as he cuts across lawns and ducks down the well trod neighborhood backalleys, avoiding any heards of desperate, last-minute, trick-or-treaters or gaggles of drunken party-goers he catches wind of.

He's at the point of shrugging off the weird sounds he's been hearing as the result of some sort of particularly lumbering rodent in the underbrush, turning his attention instead to the little flashes of lamp light glinting off of abandoned candy wrappers. Batting at one every now and then non-committaly. It wasn't as exciting as one might think, being a cat. Kind of a snooze even, as far as curses went.

Well, at least it had the wherewithal and the courtesy as a curse to take aesthetics into account.

He was definitely the kind of cat his father would have chased off the lawn with a bb gun, if it had showed up at their door looking for food. He examines the pitch-colored shroud of his newly acquired fur as best as he can, glad- in a removed sort of way -that at least he was a proper Halloween cat. Scruffy and mysterious, not one of those opulently fluffy, pearl-colored, fancy-feast models.

There was dignity in being a black cat on Halloween. There was style! There was pinache!

A whisper, a low hum beyond his perception.

There were secrets. There was power. All of it his for the taking now that the opportunity had been unwittingly granted.

He'd read a legend once- in one of his massive, dusty, volumes on the lore of shapeshifters, dating back to antiquity -that on Halloween, black cats were at the most transient state of their existances. They could- if they could find the right chinks in reality's armour, where the space between things overlapped and folded in on itself like challah -use the threads surrounding and connecting the worlds to perform any number of impossibilities. Assume other forms, be anywhere at once, sew prosperity or discord at a whim.

It was said that those creatures most in-tune with with the pathways could even travel between them all. All of the worlds bookended against and, at certain times like tonight, overlapping their own. Those most-adept cats could slip in and out of dimensions as easily as a shadow slips under doorway.

I mean, I guess now is as good a time as any to test that hypothesis, Merton mused, slit-pupils zeroing in on the slightest movement down the street from Tommy's house, which was naturally where his slinky, purposeful, wandering had taken him. There were no other thoughts to it really. After all. He and Tommy were each other's lifeboats, lashed together to weather whatever bullshit came their way, side-by-side.

At least where finding ourselves on the wrong side of dark magic is concerned. He amended to himself. There was no one else here so he wasn't sure why he even bothered really.

He hesitated silently under a street lamp. The crackling sound of the light flickering above him sounded grating to his sensitive ears. He could understand Tommy's super-hearing-based woes a lot better now at least. With his gaze shifting uneasily between the safety of Tommy's house- the safety of his company, and of his unconditional presence, and of his unwavering dedication to Merton's protection despite the workload that it was turning out to be- and back to the subtle, but suddenly noticeable undulations of the shadows at the farthest edge of the neighbor's hedgerows. An opportunity had manifested itself.

Almost neigh-imperceptably, something shifts in the air, pervading every cranny of the now darkened street.

A moment of choice for Merton. The unexplored possibilities mount in his head, weighed against the cons of breaching the utterly unknowable. He is bewitched, rooted to the spot. Eve on the precipice of the apple, by virtue of both temptation and fear.

He'd gone to more extreme means, on less intel, for far more ridiculous pursuits. This was just a short walk to the end of the street. But he hesitates nonetheless, his own mind overriding the detatched curiosity that grew into him- into his bones -the longer he was attached to this form. He feels the pull of the interstitial static of the spaces between space, it hums and pulses gently along to the music of the spheres. Soft, inviting, unknowable.

He thinks of slipping between the phases of reality. Could he regain his body on his own that way? Could he pick a better one? He pads gently forward, going only a few, cautious steps, questioning himself all the while and trying to brace his senses against the hypnotic call of whatever the netherspace was wordlessly offering to him. He is waiting to see when the time will be right. If it will be at all. What will come of it.

I can fix this on my own for once, right now. He tells himself . I can learn so much. About everything. I can fix so much if I can just...

The pull of the place between is Urgent. Heady. Disorienting, he finds. It beckons him more insistently with each passing moment, and every sound made in the darkness is a soft, sighing, call to action. To adventure. To satisfy all of his human spawned, feline fueled, curiosities alike.

But another sound, this one from inside Tommy's house- still nearly right next to him -severs the tie. It's Tommy's laugh, loud and sharp and as intimately familiar to him as a siren song of his own.

Tommy. His tail lifts up into the air of its own accord as he starts to correct course towards the tree in Tommy's back yard, one which frequent exposure to the Dawkin's household tells him leads to the- usually wide open -2nd floor window landing of his best friend's bedroom.

The whispering from behind him grows more urgent as he turns away from it. Easier to discern from the normal night-music of Pleasantville. It grows in pitch, insistent, like a vulture pecking at the stripped down bones of its roadside carrion.

Despite his growing unease, Merton still feels the gravity of the thin places of the world eying him up, clawing at him. He realizes, with detached horror, that if the last few minutes are anything to go by, in this form, he isn't even sure if he can resist it at all. Much less how long his moment of self possession can last.

Merton, as a cat, finds himself to be mostly a loose collection of animal instincts and a haphazard jigsaw of the the bits of the world that don't seem to want to fit right with himself; all of this sewed up into a body thats more suggestive of physical form than equitable to one. He doesn't know how to even begin to navigate the puzzle of resisting the undertow of the universe as it digs its fingers solidly into the newest and most vulnerable parts of his shared but singular conciousness. The shadows in the hedgerows, the ripples of what's underneath the idea of them, begin to pulsate. They flail. Or it flails, because he can't tell the collective from the distinct anymore, can only watch with awe as the patch of space and time it is currently occupying shimmers, and cracks, and grows, and reaches. Merton swears he can hear it SCREAMING in the back of his head. At the place where his thoughts dissolve into notions less definable by words, and transform instead into a swirling mass of impulses conducted by the now-shrill trans-dimensional, thrumming of the universe's insistent, staticky back beat.

He sees something solidifying in the ectoplasm of that open sore in the flesh of the world. Something besides the thrashing, churning, cult of tendrils reaching out from the places they can squeeze through in the cracks. The sight makes every single one of his hairs stand on end. Which is something, given he has a significant deal more of them now than he usually would. But there is no mistaking what he is seeing being melded together in the eye of that widening miasma. A hand claws its way past the meshing, roiling tentacles of that dark expanse. Pulling itself forward into the physical, out of the theoretical. A set of shoulders struggles past, dragging the other arm in to being along side it, pale and wan. There is a pause, one last still moment before, with repulsion thrumming through every part of him, he focuses on the well of dark magics still spewing forth parts of the creature. He sees the top of a head breech through the dimensional weak spot. The head turns in Merton's direction at his displeased hisses of fright. Merton locks up in immediate, gut-wrenching, horror when the creature gazes back at him, wearing his own face.

‐-----

I'll probably never continue this or even do anything at all w it,, but it was fun! In case you were wondering about the subtext between tommy and merton, yes. gay. Also whats dialague don't know her

[fairycosmos]

something really bad has happened and I'm not sure how I'm suppose to deal with it, please could u tell me a funny story or a nice interesting fact

i’m sorry lovie 😞 i hope you have ppl around you who will help you through this time, and that you know you’re not alone. a few facts came to mind that i’d like to share with you. did you know the largest hole in the ozone layer (in the north pole) finally closed this year? it’s really cool how the earth can repair itself with just a bit of consciousness from the people on it. recovery is constant and always possible. oh and heres something i learned when i was briefly obsessed with trees last summer - they ‘talk’ to each other. they have a whole underground network for sharing water and nutrients, but also for communication. they warn each other when a drought is coming and everything. it’s crazy how humans only perceive a very small amount of what is actually going on on this planet. like theres a lot of silent conversations in nature. there is so much beyond us. another thing i think a lot about is voyager 2. the spacecraft nasa sent into space decades ago that has a bunch of things that define humanity on it - music, audio greetings, sounds from earth (thunder, a kiss, animals) and photos of us all. it’s probably going to deteriorate into a hunk of metal but just the possibility of some far away being stumbling across it one day, even if they don’t understand it, makes me tear up every time. it’s the ultimate ‘we were here.’ this also just reminded me about how jupiter kind of weirdly protects the earth. its gravity redirects a LOT of comets. earth might be uninhabitable if not for the lucky coincidence of how everything is positioned. seems like everything is working in a sort of harmony even if life on an individual and societal level is pretty hellish in the year 2020. but it’s ok to process pain, it doesn’t mean it’ll be with you forever. you’re going to be alright. you are so much more resilient and so much more adaptable than you realize. i believe in you, and i’m here if you need someone.

*a bonus, this isn’t a fact i just like it....you know in welsh folklore? its said that corgis were gifted to human children by the fae folk. and the faeries still cling to their fur to get to places. hehe 🥺

[smol-lydia]

Anti’s be like:

-compares Beetlebabes to Haman, who is a genocidal villain in the Jewish religion, said to be descended from Amalek, our mortal enemies-

My jewish ass: can u not

Goyische anti: but you called us Nazis bc we doxx, censor, suicide bait and threaten ppl; I’m marginalized so I can’t be held accountable bc Hitler would have killed me too

My jewish ass, just annoyed at this point: yeah bc I toss around the word Nazi lightly like I don’t understand the gravity of the term as a Jewish person and a historian. Also the Shoah was specifically aimed at Jews and Roma plz stop with your nonsense

Goyische anti: calls us pedos and pulls screenshots out of context to make it seem like we have Nazis in our server when a) we don’t b) you can’t speak German plz fucking stop assuming ppl are Nazis bc they have a German blog name

Look @gender-chaotic I get you’re obsessed with me, but I’m a taken babe, and I have standards.

Also leave me and my friends the fuck alone. Good talk. #beetlejuice #beetlebabes #shipping discourse #stay off my damn lawn

[benjaminhunter]

my very basic theory/summary/explanation of loonaverse jic ppl want to get into it.

 the loonaverse is situated on three planes/dimensions, earth, the between and eden, and is based off a mobius trip, which is basically a fucked up time loop. some girls are aware of the loop, some try to break it and others are content with it. but it seems the more the mobius loops, and the more grim things become.

1/3 

 heejin, hyunjin, haseul and yeojin are seemingly normal human friends in the track field team.

one day an android named vivi shows up, unable to express emotions and relying on a battery. sick of being left out due to her inability to express genuine emotions, she unplugs her battery and remembers a time where she was human, met with a beautiful girl named jinsoul, worked in a skate rental shop where she was in love with one of the customers, but can’t remember them very well. working there, she had a tape player that seem very special, even magic.

shortly after, born a newfound android self with some of her memories back, she tries to get in touch with her parents through a video journal where she goes to the aquarium, but she spots an eyepatch-wearing jinsoul, and she freaks out and passes out.

one day, yeojin disappears. haseul, who had a really close bond with her, looks for her, does self-introspection and meets a boy/bird version of herself, who she hates. she finds a diamond and kills her bird doppelganger. her, hyunjin, heejin and vivi do magic and cast a spell in order to find yeojin.

odd eye circle

humans with superpowers (teleportation, plane travel, time travel) thanks to a special eye

jinsoul returns from the aquarium with a blue betta fish and takes the subway alone, but someone yanks her earphone out when there’s supposedly no one there. she notices her blue betta dying and her odd eye activates, giving her the power of teleportation

driven by some unknown force, kim lip waits in a street for something to come. she crosses paths with choerry, asleep in her car, and her odd eye activates, maybe giving her super speed, but strangely she can’t catch up to the car, the reason being that perhaps choerry and lip weren’t in the same plane of existence but still sensed each other. lip then goes her own way, trying to find clues.

jinsoul saved her blue betta and puts in a fish tank filled with goldfish. she then teleports to find choerry, putting a cherry on her piece of cake.

in choerry’s plane of existence, yeojin and haseul are still there, alive. choerry goes to their place to hang out, before eating a cherry - the cherry activates her odd eye and she teleports to another dimension. 

in this dimension, there are eleven mirrors on the ground and three moons. she is guided thanks to jinsoul using mirrors to catch her eyes. choerry then eats another cherry to find jinsoul and kim lip.

jinsoul teleports again and again to find choerry and lip, to no avail. it seems lip found vivi’s tape player, and is using it to rewind time. choerry uses a map to find not only lip and jinsoul, but also hyunjin, vivi, heejin, haseul.

they eventually manage to find each other and form odd eye circle. they try to find yeojin but don’t succeed. frustrated, choerry tries to find another solution.

a mysterious figure gives them vivi’s tape player. it seems lip was the one to receive it.

choerry gets an apple from another mysterious girl named yves. the apple has special powers - it gives one self-awareness and self-love.

yyxy (youth youth by young)

yyxy is composed of four girls representing emotions found in youth. yves is faith, chuu is love, gowon is hope, and olivia hye is anger. they all live in a perfect place called eden, closely guarded by a strict teacher.

yves is a girl who felt close to the ugly duckling’s story. she decided to do a radical thing, and eat the apple of knowledge, because she wanted to get out of eden and finally love who she is. in the process, she meets with a girl named vivi, working at a skate rental shop, who she seems very interested in. she gets a tape player from vivi, and passes an apple to choerry.

chuu is in love with yves, and follows her anywhere despite yves not paying much attention to her. eventually she accepts that yves will not love her unless she loves herself first, and eats a forbidden fruit as well, an apple and a strawberry. she somehow meets haseul in a different dimension...

gowon is a princess-like girl, who doesn’t love herself the way she should. choerry visits her plane and gives her an apple, but gowon decides that if she has to love herself, she’ll do it her own way. she eats a pineapple ring, and understands that she has greater power than everyone else, and is crowned queen by yves.

gowon seems to have a tape player. she makes a bracelet that she sends to hyunjin, in a complete other dimension.

all three girls are now happy but miserable in eden. they want to get out of this place but olivia hye is perfectly happy with the way things are, and gets angry. the three other girls start to avoid her, and eventually find a way to escape, leaving her behind. olivia hye tries to follow them but can’t. gowon looks at her regretfully one last time before escaping.

full of rage and resent, olivia hye decides to love herself since none of the eden girls wanted to love her. she hurts vivi and steals her tape player, as revenge on yves, the instigator of all of this, who cared a lot for vivi - this is maybe why vivi is reborn an android with no memories of her past, and olivia is probably the person who pulled jinsoul’s earphone off, and gave kim lip the tape player. jinsoul also appears to tell olivia something.

hi high

this is an ellipse, and probably best future where everyone is reunited and at peace with each other. seemingly free of the earth and eden’s shackles, it seems everyone has something special, are no longer bound by gravity. heejin, for example, is supposed to be a normal human girl but she can soar towards the moon.

xx

the teaser shows hi high, but in reverse, implying that the peace the girls have achieved is being undone, because the loop is still going, the mobius is making things worse.

xix / xiix / xiiix / xivx / butterfly

yyxy try to fix things. gowon wants to prevent haseul from killing her bird self, but doesn’t arrive on time. olivia seems hurt on her neck, as if she’s been bitten by a savage beast. chuu and yves mimic a butterfly, and butterfly is a message that everyone can identify with loona, not just the twelve girls.

burn 

??? we don’t know yet and its KILLING ME