#screw this man for making me feel

[accidentallyadoptedbybatman]

This is a formal apology to Superman and Metropolis from a Gothamite (it is not, this is a formality the government said I must do, I do not mean this)

I would like to apologise to Superman and all the citizens of Metropolis who today witnessed me lose it and beat Lex Luther into a minor coma with a chair. (His machine broke my laptop, I was working on my final essay for university, he deserved it)

It was a violent scene and I am sorry to any trauma caused and I shall be paying the broken chair (Superman you should've let me beat his face in further, and that chair now mine, I'm taking it back to Gotham with me its going on my wall)

If you wish to ask me anything or request something you can reach me here and I shall answer and politely respond (I have no choice, the government is advising I behave but I don't care, if the uni doesn't give me more time to do the essay I'll come back and kill Lex)

[manderleyfire]

– What's keeping us apart ain't even real, your daddy, his religion, it's got nothing to do with us. – It's not just his, it's mine too. I've got the same spirit in me, why don't you see that?

Alice Englert and Walton Goggins in Them That Follow (2019), dir. Dan Madison Savage & Brittany Poulton

[lordbanquo]

Being transmasc is weird because I still feel connected to a lot of aspects of girlhood. But when I express that part of myself, I feel like I'm too feminine to pass as a boy. And I WANT to pass as a boy. Above all, I am a boy. But the more masculine I start to feel, the more afraid I get that people are going to become scared of me. That I'll become part of "Men DNI" or "I hate all men". It's scary to think that people would view me as a threat.

On one end of the spectrum, there's not being seen as who I am. On the other end, there's being seen as an abuser. And I don't know how to find the balance.

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

🖤🩶🤍💜

[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

a quick reminder to everyone

I have SEVERE LEARNING DISABILITIES

I am literally disabled because of my learning disabilities, I have faced literal descrimnation because of it.

everytime you call us retarded or a retard you are ACTIVLY upholding the systems in which I am trapped in.

I take more offence in being called a retard than anything due to the literal DECADES of systematic abuse and descrimnation from the medical system, every single government resource, and almost all school alternatives.

fuck you greatly if you use these words against us, I have to live in a country where they hate people like me and would rather us dead than to do literally anything to help people like us.

call us what you will, but I will never call anyone retarded because it’s a basic decency reserved for everyone.

I’m a very happy retard, fuck your ableism!

I will happily live and love and learn even if THE LITERAL GOVERNMENT doesn’t want me too.

(yeah being a mid supports autistic with other learning disabilities and disabilities in general that made me unable to attend a school just means I deserve to die. 100% legit I deal with this literally all the time always fuck the Australian government)

so again fuck you all greatly, for using a literal slur against me one that has been used against me since I was a baby.

fuck you all, genuinely.

did I forfeit my rights to be treated as a human being the moment I had a bit of trouble learning things? Because if I did I’d like to break someone’s teeth with a brick.

Edit: the language and lines between what the fuck developmental disabilities and intellectual disability are is confusing as fuck.

I have gotten very confused between the 2 because they are grouped together half the time.

My apologies to everyone for being utterly confused where I fall because it is extremely confusing to figure out, and internationally it varies wildly according to my brief reading.

I did not mean to be mean or anything I just was genuinely going off what I’ve been told most my life lol.

Shout out to my developmentally disabled brethren you are loved

[chr0n1c-ag0ny]

Kunidazai reunion sparking them finally, actually, truly getting together (cause they're idiots who have essentially been and old married couple for years and were the last to notice)? I think yes.

kunikida offering his apartment to Dazai, as his partners was in no shape to be lived in, after all the time that had passed with no upkeep and the time it spent in police custody, being milled through for any potential evidence. there was no way he could let him go back to it, not now, not tonight. Kunikida needs him close tonight.

Dazai takes him up on his offer. he doesn't want to be alone. he won't admit it, but he can't be alone, he doesn't know what it would do to him, what he would do to himself if he was left unattended. so he gratefully, while making jabs and cracking jokes at his partner, follows him home.

their night proceeds as normal, as it had for years of Dazai crashing with him. Kunikida cooks while Dazai sits up on his counter, rambling on and on about anything he can think of. Kunikida never realized how much he missed Dazai's voice until the relief of not cooking in silence hit him.

when they eat Dazai drags his partner to sit on the couch, even though Kunikida hates eating on the couch, knowing he would make an exception for him, just for tonight. they sit too close to just be friends, coworkers, partners even. their arms touch, their knees lean into one another.

when Dazai's finished with his dinner he lays a head in Kunikida's lap, turning on the TV, flipping through all of his partners recorded media until he finds the show they had been watch together, every episode that aired since he was arrested is recorded and unwatched. with blurry eyes he hits play. Kunikida's hand is in his hair and it doesn't leave.

they don't talk, they don't have to, they've talked enough. for now they just want to sit and feel each other's touch and hear each other's breathing. it's all they need.

its nearly 3 in the morning when Dazai finally starts to doze, he'd curled up into a ball, halfway in Kunikida's lap at that point, holding onto one of his partner's hands. Kunikida knows he should get them both to bed, he should offer Dazai the room and take the couch, that he should have the man some space after all he'd been through. but he aches at the thought of leaving his side, at being separated again.

but he doesn't even have to say anything, should have known he never had to, Dazai's always been sharp as a tack, his intuition, almost terrifyingly, even sharper.

His partner turned lazily in his arms, looking up at him with tired but knowing eyes. let's go to bed, they say. you don't have to go, you can stay, they assure. please don't go, they beg.

Kunikida breathes a long, heavy, sigh of relief.

"ok," he answers, before finally getting up after hours laid up on the couch, watching as Dazai continues to doze.

his heart aches with feverish heat. he'd missed him so much he had begun to go mad, had gone mad really, and now his partner was back, he was back and alive and mostly well, and now he was so relieved it ached in its own right.

he went about making up his bed for two, for Dazai, knowing he needed enough pillows and blankets for half a dozen people, but kept stopping to look over the back of the couch to make sure he was still there, still with him, that he hadn't been taken away again. by the time he's done he's probably crossed his apartment two to three dozen times, from his room to the couch again and again, before he's finally decided the room was good enough, there were enough blankets for Dazai to cover himself with and pillows to hide in.

when he goes to Dazai this time around, he kneels in front of him, carding a hand through his hair, tracing a thumb over his brow, to his nose, and then his cheek. his partner's eyes flutter open, a smile graces his lips.

"come on," he whispers, worried too loud a voice would shatter the delicate air of safety and comfort around them, "time for bed."

Dazai hums, getting up with a stretch and a yawn, much like a cat, before gingerly hopping off the couch and into Kunikida's arms, a false smile and air of cheekiness to him, hiding the ache Kunikida knew all too well resided in his partner's heart as much as it did his own, if not more. he holds him for a moment, savoring the feeling of him in his arms, before taking his hand and leading him to their room.

Dazai knows the drill. he goes to the other man's dresser and picks out a pair of his own sweatpants, ones he kept here for nights like these, and as per usual, one of Kunikida's shirts, gliding across the room, out into the hall, and into the bathroom.

Kunikida crawls into bed, feeling like he's been hit by a bus by the days events, and ends up half asleep by the time he feels Dazai crawling into bed next to him.

he expects to see bandages peeking from the borrowed nightshirt, to watch Dazai shield himself from the world, from his partner's touch, with a swarm of blankets, for Dazai to lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for him to fall asleep first.

but tonight's different, so different.

Dazai's skin is bare where the shirt doesn't cover, his scars on display, each and every one of them, the burns, the cuts, the bullet wounds, the ones Kunikida has never one been able to decipher the story of. they're all bared to him, with no visible hesitation on Dazai's end.

when his partner climbs into bed he neglects the pile of blankets laid out for him, the pillows too. instead he lifts the comforter that's draped over the entirety of the bed, Kunikida included, sliding beneath it like it's natural to him, like he'd done it every night for months, years even.

he looks at Kunikida for a moment, silently asking for permission, which Kunikida cannot give fast enough, and then Dazai's in his arms, his own wrapped around his neck, nothing between them but the clothes on their backs.

Dazai pulls away, just a bit, Kunikida almost cries out, almost pulls him back in, but knows better. he lets dazai go, but he never leaves. he's moved just far back enough so they could both look each other in the face.

"I missed you," he spoke softly, his hands shifting to hold the blonde's face.

"I missed you too,"

there's a moment of silence.

"I love you." the words are hesitant, skittish even, like he's unsure of how Kunikida would take it.

"I love you too," he replies without a second thought. he loves his partner, he loves him, more than he knows what to do with, so much it drives him mad and makes him ache.

Dazai nods. he's thinking, Kunikida can see it on his face, his mind is going a million miles a second. worry flashes on Dazai's face, and Kunikida panics, goes to pull away, goes to give Dazai space, even if his own skin burns at the thought of parting with Dazai's.

but Dazai doesn't let him, he clings to him, "Don't go, please don't go, please," he begs.

his voice is desperate, so Kunikida doesn't. he watches his partners face twist and turn, watches as fear spreads across his brow and tears gather in his eyes, and he doesn't know what to do because this has never happened.

but than Dazai leans in, slowly, tugging Kunikida closer so they can meet in the middle. Kunikida feels his partners lips on his. he kisses him back. he can't decide if that was a foolish decision or not. It's soft, softer than either of them knew they were capable of, it's gentle and earnest and good.

Dazai stops after a moment, lingers in Kunikida's space before looking him in the eye once more, he doesn't speak, they don't need to. Dazai looks at him, tears running down his face, but he's smiling, he's ok. his thumbs wipe away tears Kunikida hadn't realized he'd shed. they're ok.

"I love you," Dazai mutter's again, speaking again before the other man can answer "Kunikida?"

"yes, Dazai?"

"don't go."

"I won't."

"promise?"

"I promise." its a foolish thing to say, but Dazai needs to hear it, hell, he needs to hear it, "I'm not going anywhere, so long as you promise me the same."

he hesitates, his eyes avoid Kunikida's for a moment, before returning from their shared gaze, "I'll try, I promise, I'll really try this time"

Kunikida nods, slowly moving to kiss Dazai's forehead, the brunette leans into it.

"I know you will," he whispers into Dazai's skin, "and I'll always be here when it's too hard to manage on your own."

there's silence again, but it doesn't feel wrong or heavy, its soft and warm and it feels right.

"I love you," Kunikida finally returns.

there's more silence, Dazai just looks at him, just watches, fingers playing with Kunikida's hair and drifting over his face until something clicks into place in the other man's mind, something nobody but Dazai could ever understand.

he leans in once more to kiss his cheek before he settles against Kunikida's chest, letting out a pleased huff as he curls himself into a ball, "goodnight," he muttered, almost instantly going still with sleep.

"goodnight," Kunikida replied, knowing Dazai wasn't going to hear him, pressing his own goodnight kiss to the top of Dazai's head before burying his face in the other man's hair (Dazai doesn't smell like his shampoo anymore. it makes something in him cringe. he tries and fails to ignore it).

it takes Kunikida a while to fall asleep, he's too busy running the night over and over and over again in his mind. he holds Dazai close and lets his fingers trace over scars, feeling over his too-thin frame, feeling each bone beneath his skin. there's so many thoughts rushing through his mind, to many fears, worries, anxieties, what ifs. what if I hurt him? what if I break him? what if I ruin this?

his thoughts are only stopped when Dazai gently nudges his head into his jaw, hands pulling Kunikida's off of him, holding them gently in his own (he should have known sleep wouldn't come that easy to Dazai).

he takes a deep breath, steadying himself and his mind, his partner's hands squeeze his gently, good, they seem to say, and sleep finally starts to pull at him once more.

he lets it happen, let's his eyes close and his mind go blank, knowing Dazai is safe, he's safe in his arms, he won't be taken away again. he sleeps knowing Dazai loves him, that he kissed him, that tomorrow they'll wake up like this, and maybe, just fucking maybe they can finally have this one happy ending.

[deus-ex-mona]

pretty minor thing to think about, but i find it interesting how chapter 7 is the first chapter illustration to show chizuutan as chizuru (instead of chuutan)

like, i get it’s a flashback chapter, but we hardly got to see her as chizuru in the previous few chapters thus far… maybe we’ll get to see more of her as her true self after the hiyori fight/make up? only future chapters may tell, i guess…

[keeps-ache]

trying to get my creative gears running again !!

[burinazar]

……

i…………feel bad about………something. the same thing as earlier. ugghh I hate how much this bugs me

[rubra-wav]

Me: *several WIP requests already in the making*

My brain: *craving Vox fluff like a desperate, starving feral creature*

The way I want him is fucking abnormal. I wanna sink my teeth into that man and THRASH

Not literally

But RAH RAHD RAHSHA GRR AHSB RAHWHSJ

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

I did something completely out of my comfort zone and I lived!

[quibbs126]

Every now and again (particularly when I’m bored at work), I’ll see the Evoland 2 tag as one I follow and I’ll think “oh I wonder if there’s anything new there!” and then I look in the Latest section of the tag and no, no it’s still just me

I really don’t know why I keep doing this or what I expect doing so. This is not like the Berserk fandom on tumblr where it’s just relatively small but there will be a couple new things every day, there is no fandom here. It is just me and @23456df, who only posts occasionally

I think I’m just delusional at this rate. Actually no, not think, I just am, because this is far from the only thing I’m like this with

[pixlmonkeys]

not vibing rn tbh

[risingsunresistance]

i have decided i am doing absolutely nothing for the smpe anniversary, sorry. i just know it will not be happening so i wont even pretend it will jhdjh

[my-alter-egos]

I'm aware this is super niche but I would just like to manifest Hiroshi Kamiya as the voice of a main character in DQXII. Thank you and that is all.

[leconcombrerit]

It's finally dawned on me that I probably won't be able to get back to making art anytime soon.

I'd been trying to make redraws in a vague and a little desparate attempt to do just that ; after all, I'd been wanting to draw stuff lately and even had a few new ideas. They just refused to translate to anything when I actually got in front of my computer -hence the redraws. It had worked quite well until now and given me the boost I needed to start new stuff.

Except even those had started to feel terrible. Understand "boring, ugly, plain, uninteresting or fastidious". Yet looking at the old and new versions side by side, it's obviously much better now. Take those Roman and Virgil ones for example. I did get better. It's not even ugly, even though it's low effort. I've been proud of worse.

My brain just makes a shortcut from "I'm bored and uninterested and frustrated" to "I'm bored and uninterested and frustrated because this is boring, uninteresting and therefore frustrating". It's like it's finding itself excuses not to draw, or do crochet, or sculpt, or make origami, or read, or watch videos, or talk to people (that includes answering most messages with less than three weeks intervals). Apparently it's "nothing concerning" according to my shrink, since I can still wake up and go to work. But I'm freaking bored.

Also I always get very depresso in September, worsens in January, peaks in February, gets better in April, rinse and repeat. Thank god for Only Friends airing now, my little brother's existence and immaculate taste in music, and my growing interest in tanks. Dunno what I'd do without those guys.