#re their trauma lmao

[maid-of-the-golden-deer]

the caped crusader is already the batman media ive enjoy the most in awhile (even if i still miss kevin conroy) bc small scale stories where its made explicitly clear that hes pretty much as bad as his villains are the stories where he works best

[essektheylyss]

I am once again knitting which means I'm back to the Nein rewatch and happened to be on Midnight Espionage, and truly INSANE episode. The egg dick, both break-ins, the Zauber Spire attack, and the first time a beacon is on screen in like four hours flat. Trent Ikithon is there. The episode ends with Liam and Marisha yelling, "TRUST THE PORN."

[azul-marie]

leon. (dolor)

fem. reader. angst with comfort. mentions of trauma.

he stands at the bedroom doorway, brows tight and tense the way they get when he’s lost in twilight thoughts.

he doesn’t walk in. he doesn’t quite look at you. just stares at the visage of you sitting up in bed, curled up under blankets and clean duvets, cuddled into dovefeather pillows. scrolling through your device, observing whatever it is you’re talking to him about lately. that show, that book you’re into. maybe some hobby you’re getting better at.

leon, for a good long while, stares into the mundane of the room.

you don’t say anything. you don’t insist, or inquire, or shoo away. you know this is how he gets sometimes. you know it’s because of everything that’s happened. everything, everywhere, everyone that resides behind those sky blue eyes, hollow and sunken, deciding to visit him every now and then, even on good days like today. even on days when earlier he’d looked at you like a man falling in love for the very first time, all over again, whose handsome face twinkled with mirth and stars and the kind of youth he may have once had when he was a boy.

leon stares. strong, safe body frozen at the door. tousled hair. roaming eyes. if you look closely enough, you may be able to see the growing desperation to ground himself. to ground his mind, at once racing with repressed memories but blank with numbness and nothing. there’s so much. so much yet so little he can manage to think out, to put into concept, perception.

it must show. it must because you finally lift your head up and force his eyes on yours, and you’re so sweet and beatific and good he wonders why you’re even here, when did you get here? between the blood and bites and flesh and bones and mama and dad and the city and spain and luis and jack when did you show up? when was it decided that you’d love him and stay? after everything he did, after everything he didn’t, why was it you chose him?

something burns down the sides of his face. one by one by one something burns after the other, but he doesn’t move. doesn’t make a sound. he just stares, stares and hopes you don’t notice it’s a bad one this time, hopes you notice he wants to talk now, he does, but he can’t, he can’t because nothing is coming out and his mouth is open but he can’t he can’t—

“sit with me, sweetie. keep me company.”

you pat the space beside you. the normal, cheery way you do. if he looks too close, he’ll see the calm look of worry you wear. but he doesn’t, because he might start hiding everything away again if he realizes the state he’s in. reminds himself it’s okay though. it’s okay, because it’s you, no one else, no one to hide from like so many times before.

leon finally moves. he watches himself from somewhere high up above the ceiling, climbing into the place you directed him to. he’s shaking. he looks a mess. but the feel of cool sheets and soft pillows brings him back just enough. enough to catch his breath, to try to organize a racing mind.

your hand sticks out. not too close, not too far. a noncommittal invitation. i’m here. it says to him. i’m here if you want. only if you want.

leon curls himself into your lap, taking the both of you by surprise.

the back of his head presses into your stomach. his nose pokes the soft of your thigh. his hair falls over his tear-striped face, shoulders trembling with silent sorrow. his hand frantically searches for something up above.

it lands on yours. without a word, he sets it over the hairs of his head, and silently motions for you to pet him.

“please.” is all he says.

you listen.

teardrops cascade down the expanse of your skin, each one a memory unspoken. uselessly do his hands cup his cheeks to catch them before they bloom, before he remembers the reason behind their fall. they will not stop. his silence becomes that of weeping whimpers, low, deep, from the cavity of his chest.

your fingers are featherlight across his scalp, a cautious touch in the wave of emotion. you say nothing only because you know he needs this, the physicality of affection, for words and sentiment are lost on deep dark hurt, unable to comfort like the caresses from a lover.

the two of you stay like this, for a long while. waiting for the tide to change, the storm to pass. until his tears lessen into saltskin, until he blinks fog away from damp lashes and loose strays of hair. you pull strands away from his rosy, tear stained cheeks to tuck them behind his ear. you run a gentle hand down his jaw, to the aching bob of his throat.

“my love, my boy.” you say softly. “you’re everything to me. nothing will change that. it’s been so hard for so long, i know. you’ve been strong all this time, leon.”

“what if i can’t do it? what if it’s not enough for you?”

“you’re more than enough, lee. you’ve been trying your best, don’t forget that in these moments. you’re home and life to me, always. love, darling, would i lie to you?”

his answer is immediate. “never.”

and he takes comfort in the pressing of your lips to the shell of his ear, the curve of cheeks and tissue scarred by the past. eyes shut tight, basking in the waves of gradual calm over him, keeping back the dark for the time being.

but he knows there’s too much to heal with simple kisses or honeyed words. plenty things he can’t bring himself to speak aloud with you. perhaps that’s where he’ll start, find somewhere to go, someone qualified to talk to. take the load off his back, and keep from worrying you, too.

he entwines your fingers together. brings them up for a kiss to your knuckles. “i love you. i’d do anything for you. anything.” hoarse his voice may be, he speaks strongly, clearly to emit his conviction. leon presses kiss after kiss across your fingertips, heart caught in his throat by how gently you cradle him into your bosom.

the warmth of your love lulls his fatigue into a dreamless sleep; his last thought is full of you and you alone.

[lassieposting]

Pulling Astarion back from doing the ascension ritual like

Sorry buddy not enough Autonomy Experience Points to purchase that irreversible life-changing trauma-based decision

How about you get used to choosing your own clothes first and then we'll revisit this in a few years once you've had time to figure out who you actually are and what you actually want without cazador okay

[starheirxero]

WELL. TODAY’S LUNAR N EARTH EPISODE KILLED ME DEAD I THINK. /POS

The horrified “oh” Lunar gives upon seeing Helios. The fact Lunar has to look at Earth just to be able to gather their words. Lunar spacing out and commenting on how they hearing humming. Being so noticeably off but not wanting to have such a bad reaction to Helios bc they know him and so they stay. Helios asking about Lunar to Earth after. :(((

[dennisboobs]

im gonna let you guys in on a little secret.

the more macden shippers shit on other pairings, the more multishippers like me will move towards their secondary and/or tertiary pairings. if i can't go into the charden tag without seeing a post intentionally tagged with multiple ships and trying to spark discourse between them by saying people who ship "rarepairs" are stupid and delusional, first of all, that's an instant fucking block, but like. I'm not going to feel like talking about macdennis when it feels like there's such an obnoxious pressure on you to fall into line and accept the widely preached and accepted fanon canon.

I love macden too. and I would post about and enjoy it a lot more if y'all didn't make it feel like we had to pick a side. just because you prefer the big popular ship, that doesn't make you smarter, or more correct than anyone who ships charden or charmac, it just means you have different preferences. i think macden has the biggest chance of being an actual couple on the show, and obviously mac and dennis are both gay and queer respectively, but if i want to ship charden, why can't i do that too? fandom is supposed to be fun, and it's supposed to be enjoyable, i don't want to have to fight to prove that this ship that i personally see working and enjoy the dynamics of is a "valid ship" when i am fully aware that they're not going to be canon that's kind of the point, and why i prefer it. and for the love of god... if you hc a pairing as platonic, that is perfectly fine. that's how i see charmac myself, but that is your view and your problem, not the shippers'. just block the tag so you don't have to see it if it bothers you that much.

and i don't like several of the other common rarepairs, but have any of you ever seen me talking shit on charmac or chardee shippers? no. stay in your lane and let people live. i'm sick of seeing people acting superior over a fucking it's always sunny in philadelphia ship.

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads // twitter thread

The Meister of Decimen City

a chaotic superhero satire

a genius who’s labelled a villain by the government after her super intelligent dinosaur children get loose is put under supervision 

and has to confront her past / deal with the trauma of her complicated family/sibling relationships

and also the realisation that she might be asexual

[fatcowboys]

tonsillectomy has fucked my sleep schedule and also I am craving every food under the SUN rn but won't be able to enjoy most of them for like another week I have list of foods I'm gonna eat once I'm able to

[lesbianneopolitan]

(sorry I know I said that last one was the last one) You saying you are newish to rwby and then posting the bunny gif gave me flashback. I remember when Velvets weapon was still unknown and there was a bunch of comics of what it could have been (what's in the box?!!?) and one comic that got around was she had a little bunny in the box that was a huge bomb and that sort of stuck till she showed what the box actually did. I remember Velvet muses having all sorts of idea's of what's in that box for rps it was great.

HONESTLY?? Hearing about all of these fun things makes me wish I would've gotten into RWBY earlier for all these experiences, like, it must be a bomb to have been following the show since the start xD

[unproduciblesmackdown]

like hearing an autistic person talking abt realizing like "oh so friendships for some ppl don't involve always having to maintain a performance" and going damn right yeah and now "oh so friendships for some ppl involve their getting to expect that the other ppl will be interested in them and provide support" like huh go figure. more surprising like oh right i guess i always felt like interactions require maintaining a performance that can only go wrong (generally true; like there's no "well you're ruining things by keeping ppl from being the Real You so just Be Yourself" like a] masking isn't Real or done by Yourself or b] like if you unmask people like you now & ableism is over, b/c it was your fault for reacting to it in the first place) & thus also that i should be interested & provide support but not expect that in turn / the sense as well that you are/can only come up short and have things to make up for anyways while lucky whoever's even providing the time of day

then it's always an Exercise to go "oh right well beyond going [my god autistic character] the whole time, what Things re: winston billions was i still not quite seeing as as unusual / Not Good as they are. even for billions" like sure noticing he's holding on to the hopes of some kind of positive / actual relationship w/rian for like year 950 & this manifesting with the Determined Friendliness but zooming in like oh i guess that adamant amicability sure involves winston suppressing a negative reaction to negative treatment and yet still hoping for an improvement, which like, was always Possible but a) hinged on rian simply choosing to change how she regards/treats him (or someone intervening to change the situation) & b) apparently is not going to happen. thinking like yeah that's very Friendly of him. and knowing like man winston's sure still trying to keep this friendliness offer open for like two years. but also now more specifically going like Yeah and pretty fucked then that his baseline expectations don't include that Mutual Interest & Support (though someone being abusive is definitely interested just not in any good ways. and certainly not (actually) supportive)

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

you know. there are few things that make me sit and think carefully about my instinct to say something would be a Good Fictional Metaphor for a real-world issue like the time i saw the take with my own two eyes that piranesi is a powerful, insightful, accurate metaphor for both colonialism in general and slavery in the US

[roomba-mangga]

if i had a nickel every time i was inspired to write toxic codependent adoptive brothers where one of them is deeply unwell and views their relationship as akin to the bond between god and mankind and it's a metaphor for the relationship between filipino people and the traumas brought upon them by centuries of colonization i'd have two nickels. which isn't a lot, but it's telling that it happened twice

[sawkinator]

Man even if Aaron Bushnell's self-immolation could just be chalked up to 'mental health issues'... literally so what?? That wouldn't make his message any less meaningful. You don't need to be driven to martyrdom to see how fucking atrocious this genocide is. You don't need to have a mental illness either. It is plain as day.

Like what are we just gonna start ignoring any call to action on anything that anyone with mental health issues makes worthless because of their mental health issues? Come the fuck on.

Free Palestine.

[queenerdloser]

very awkward when someone asks in the office if you've seen xyz media you hate and have strong feelings about and your other coworker immediately starts talking about how good it is

[anqael]

thinking about how nora was held captive by her biological father for months, god knows what happened to her in that space of time beCAUSE SHE WAS MADE TO FORGET

[whifferdills]

ok caught up on Yellowjackets...like. well! opinions: you know i am willing to forgive sloppy construction, but aside from the duct tape holding the scripts together....idk it occupies a disappointing no-man's-land in the post-crash survival horror genre where it lacks The Terror's awareness of how its tropes occupy history and Lost's balls-out mythmaking and melodrama. the character work really does it for me tho so, idk, C+/B-