#stupid ass tumblr. guess ill have to do this myself -_-

[cherry-shipping]

HAPPY HAPPYYYY BDAY @avian-hearts!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS IS KINDA WACK CUZ I HAVENT MADE A REAL ACTUAL PROPER DRAWING IN AGES BUT!!!!!!! still i hope u like it <3333

[elleloquently]

hi guys <3 since invisible string has wrapped up, there's been some things on my mind lately that have made posting a little less fun than i would like... i figured that i sort of just wanted to get it off of my chest before i dive into my next fic. i sort of feel like an ass for even mentioning this stuff but i've seen so many other writers having the same issues as well.. nobody has to read this at all - i guess this is just a clue to where i'm at and my relationship with writing on tumblr right now. this might be a bit of a doozy so i do apologize, i don't mean to sound whiny but truly i just want to get it off of my conscience.

also i want to stress that this has nothing to do with the people that have been continuously kind - i've been reading ur messages and comments regarding the final part of invisible string and i am quite literally over the moon with happiness, ilysm

firstly i want to say that you, my readers, have been so lovely. i know my account is not huge and i do not complete requests in a timely manner, but you all have shown me so much love and positivity that i cannot even fathom. i feel silly talking about "negative" things bc all of the love and support that i receive significantly outweighs the bad, but unfortunately i'm only human.

i've seen countless other writers talk about this as well, but the interaction blues are so real. it feels so contradictory to say this because all i'm doing is typing a silly little story, a fanfiction, at that, so i am absolutely nowhere near being a sophisticated writer... therefore i do not at all feel entitled to reblogs or comments or anything of the sort. but at the same time... it is so discouraging to work so hard on a piece, trying to frame it just right and even adding moments thinking, they'll love this... only for the notifs to be flooded with only likes and demands for a next part. and i absolutely know that these readers mean no ill intent whatsoever, it just feels disheartening at times, like guys can we please just appreciate one thing at a time? it almost makes the writer feel like they haven't done good enough, and it's such a shitty feeling after working so hard. just please remember that tumblr writers are people, we're doing this in our free time and writing for free (despite the silly little tumblr tip jar feature) - if there's a piece or a writer that you enjoy, please let them know! comments, reblogs, messages, all of those do so much to help support the writer and it's so encouraging.

the next point being, the echochamber that is fanfiction. i've pretty much fooled myself if i thought that i could come on here and have a solely original idea. it is still so frustrating sometimes despite how hard i try not to take it seriously. it does feel stupid to take fanfiction seriously but anyway... lately i've been torn between supporting all of the amazing writers on this app and the feeling like i don't want to read anything that appears in the ellie tag anymore. i can be working away at a piece for weeks, and then read someone else's work that has something similar and i feel like i have to delete the things that i've worked on because i never want to seem unoriginal, especially when you're on the flip side of it.. it sucks. it feels like you have a special idea, no matter how big or small, and the second that you post about it, it's everywhere. again, the echochamber. i'd be hard pressed to be able to put something out that someone else hasn't also done, or to put something out and not have other people use it too. it still just feels stressful sometimes, trying to make something about your work special so other people want to read it.

which brings me to my next thought... writing for engagement versus writing for fun. obviously we all want our work to be supported. it's sad when you work hard and it's just not. so yes, always support your writers. but with that, i really want to try to keep that joy in writing, and to not get overwhelmed. my next fic is going to be purely for fun. it is frankly so annoying to research the game or replay it over and over just to make sure every single detail is perfect. that isn't fun to me, i don't want to make something that is word for word and scene for scene something that already exists. i want to make it my own, with different worldbuilding and details for my own storytelling. if you're someone who has an issue with creative changes or inaccuracies from the game- my works may not be for you, and that's okay. i'd rather miss out on some readers than have people comment about something that is wrong.

i know this is all so much and it is a bit ridiculous, i don't think i'm the only one though. it gets a bit much to play into the social aspect of this community, not just writing but trying to appeal to everyone or making sure that all of the other accounts like me.. which just, isn't always going to be the case. with that being said, please remember that i'm a person and i have a job and i'm in college, it's hard to get on tumblr and write when i have huge essays due every night. just keep that in mind, if it takes me a long time to update or post it's not because i'm purposefully trying to make you suffer, there's just other things going on. please have courtesy for writers, please support writers. with all of that being said, i do hope i don't come off as a total drag. again- to all of you who have been nothing but kind and supportive, i love and appreciate you all so much. you are actively making this community and this hellsite a better place, so thank you for that.

much love,

<3 elle

[lordoftablecloths]

vent post i guess i dont know i just wanted to write stuff down instead of just go ing to bed and crying over it you can just scroll past it

im fine im sane im noramal im so unbleiveably cringe ,, the only person i have irl- fuck, or even online for that matter- to show the dumbass things i write is my silly little dumbass younger brother who doesn;t understand what im trying to get at and i guess its not his fault, i seriously doubt he's spent unhealthy amounts of time making various short scenerios in his head about charcters he came up with and eventually trying to give them a story and write little things about them in google docs because where else am i supposed to put this and its just ,, he doesnt know wht im trying to do and i dont know how to explain it to him because the "history" i gess behind it is so fucking complicated by now that these characters arent even the same characters as they were when i originally created them, other than some physical attributes and their names and he just knows them as the random cringe shit i made up in middle school but so many years have passed by now that these stupid fuckers whose only purpose to serve is to make me stop remembering that i exist and ive gotten too attatched to them because who else was i supposed to get attatched to when i was going through an identity crisis at the time- and, quite frankly, still fucking am- and it was so much easier to pretend i dont exist and just project my flaws and insecurities and underlying subconcsious thoughts into these charactes that no one knows about except me and oh god im just created a long ass vent post on tumblr that no one's going to read and no one understands the story behind fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck whatever ill go ahead and post this unfinished thing because no one's going to get it either way ill probably delete it later if it doesnt get buried under reblogs

dont think too much about this i just got sad because my brother was giving me a bunch of criticism on an outline of a story i was working on- which is fair, i need to take criticism- but he only knows the characters in it as their semi-formed cringe versions so i chickened out half way and now i feel bad because i was really proud of this thing for the whopping span of like one day before i decided to show it to another human person instead of letting it rot away inside of me like i usually do and now i feel bad about my writing skills

im trying so hard to just take his words with a grain of salt because this kid does not have nearly as much experience with writing as i do, but i feel like im copying too many of my inspirations (DnD, generic fantasy story about defeating evil creature, silly tropes, etc,,) which sucks because that was just like the first two pages of the outline and theres nine fucking pages and like the second half of it was what i put the most effort into and i felt like the ideas were really origianl but i could make myself let him naturally get to that part of the outline because i was starting to feel really bad and wieerd and oh god he is looking at ideas i havent ever expressed to another human person even though i am very familaiar with because i came up with them and they havebeen in my head for at least a year or two by now and have been haunting me ever since so instead of skipping ahead to the parts that were really good in my opinion but would have made no sense without context i just told him to piss off i gues s

i dont know. i feel dumb. i feel stupid. ive put so much effort into this stuff and the concept that ive been wasting my time feels like too heavy of a weight to handle. god none of this porbobably nmakes any sense ,,,,,,,,, i guess this is why i feel miserable when the fanart and shitpost memes i post get a comically larger audience and attention than the art relating to my silly goofy ocs, because these stupid fucking characters are all thats keeping me going . call me cringe, but is it still cringe if the concept that maybe i too can be around people that love me and instead of having to like me in spite of my faults love me for them keeps me from fucking killing myself is it still cringe?

if a tree falls in a forest and no one's around, does its fall even make a sound? (shit piss fuck sorry i dont remember the original quote and all i can remember is tha t one line from that one musical i dont remember what it was)

if an autistic moron that cant even talk to a cashier without having a panic attack makes a universe full of fictional characters of his own cfreation then an alternate universe, then several alternate universes, then a spin off from that original universe and etc etc but its all just on google fucking docs and no where else except deleted excerpts from a dead wattpad account, did he ever even create anything at all?

its pointless. its all so fucking pointless. its a waste of time. why do i do this at all. its so fucking pointless. it makes no fucking sense. you cant just make a story with characters in it, then make a fucking fantasy au of that universe with the same characters but with different designs and wildly different personalities and then make a whole fucking complicated lore-filled story about the fantasy au version while the original universe's story is still left mostly unfinished like forget about a first draft of the text i havent even finished the first ddraft of the outline yet buckarooooooo

okay fuck you guys thats all i want to tell you im going to go pretend to myself to try to go to sleep and then cry now

[tearsandwishes]

weekend vent dumps #1

this is my first post so I guess ill give some details about myself. I used to have Tumblr a while back but I encountered some INTERESTING things with some people, so I got a new one. With this account I guess I'll vent about random stuff to make myself feel better. I will post some stuff about deep or so topics and if it doesn't interest you, I guess leave. If it does, I guess listen to the tea.

Some things about me is well, 1 I'm black and female (like that matters). 2, I like to write (if I feel adventurous I'll write a short story or 2). 3, I like anime (no I won't answer your 1million questions). 4, I'm bisexual. 5, I believe I am a very nice person, an introvert who has a very large opinion about certain topics. (I low-key think I should be a politician)

That doesn't matter. Lets vent. (get comfortable, this is long)

This week had been very stressful. Monday started off okay, but my first class was biology. Bio is my weak class for various reasons. 1, my teacher is an asshole and thinks that I don't know how to study (mind you I'm a Junior in hs). 2, I'm mostly on discord dming my friends half of the time. So this is a me and her problem type of thing. Other than bio being horrible, my life at home has been going through shreds. I have a step mother and she's an asshole. She believes she can get away with a few things because she's been in my life since I was 3. Which is stupid.

Recently, I have been doing community hours for my school. I have been cleaning the theatre (but this is different kind of cleaning, I have to take done stud walls and carry lumber in and out of workshops), since I'm very passionate about theatre, I knew I wouldn't be complaining about doing such a thing. Except for the fact that my stepmother comes home complaining that I'm lazy for not doing opportunities for community hours, outside of school (I hope that makes sense). She says I should "help out the church" or "help clean out the block", like I'm tryna help out and leave yo house. It's unfortunate that my dad sees the way she talks to me and literally does nothing. Yet he is the one that questions why I hang out with my actual mother more than stay at his house more. And if you're wondering, yes, I still talk to my bio-mom even though she abandoned me at a young age.

Enough with the sad stuff, the positive thing is that Christmas break is coming up. I love Christmas, it's so romantic and fun with family and friends. But, today is December 3rd and nobody gave me a sweater. I swear next year I will be in a relationship (p.s. I say this every year).

I have said a lot in this first post so I know it's overwhelming. If you have any similar experiences, my chat is always open, I'm willing to talk to random people.

Other than that, my goals this week is to turn the D in bio to at least a B. And have my step mother get off my ass.

I hope this gets to the right audience, remember to drink water and stay positive!

"A wise woman wishes to be no one's enemy; a wise woman refuses to be anyone's victim."

-Maya Angelou

[strider-rambles]

holy shit the first motherfucking ramble is an emo one this shit crayz

anyway. uhm. man. as a kin(?) <- dubious but thats how ill be referring to myself for now ive always like. had such a tough time finding not only canonmates, but just.. sourcemates. in general. that i vibe with. i think perhaps my vibes are occasionally mad atrocious, but it's also like. OTHER PEOPLE are half of the issue too you know

takes two to motherfuckin tango, and bro, i'm stepping on these bitches' feet like it's dance dance revolution and like as a dave kin specifically. one who like. was quite young when i got into the fandom however many years ago and, even if i didn't know the term kin back then, i kinda.. knew. or, maybe the fuckin chicken (me) came before the egg (the kin) or whatever but

whatever. it resulted in me being.. kind of in a kinshift for like 4 years during the most formative years of my life

cray-z right

doesn;t matter its just like. because it's been such a present thing through my life ive met.. so many individuals who are like. you know. other kins which is great and all, but like

i haven't found people that i've vibed with for homestuck. the majority of the people i know and interact with now are comfortably in my little kin circle or whatever, are sort of the closest thing that i have to canonmates

nothing for homestuck. well nothing beyond a dirk. but i got lucky with him and i KNOW i got lucky with him because i. we're both kind of outcasts in the community, in the sense that we're. neurotic striders, i guess.

but he's like. helped a lot with the whole feeling alone and being all emotionally constipated about it thing.

but that doesn't help with the other shit

the missing my friends shit, the approaching so many fucking people bein' all like yooo whats GOOD bros and being hit with vibes that clash with mine or WORSE. vibes that WORK WITH ME. but they already have their dave

so whats the point you know?

i'm not going to be THEIR DAVE.

i have so many diverging fucking timelines and like

im dave. im davesprite. im every goddamn iteration of this stupid fucking asshole and MORE.

and

i hate the idea of being the secondary one, i guess. which is funny because. gestures. but like

it's gotten to the point where im so DESPERATE to find people. so DESPERATE to find my bros and my homies and my gals that i like i promised myself i wouldn't do this but i'm actively going "hey i can be your secondary dave, haha" you know. all fucking pathetic and shit

but i just.

i MISS my friends. so bad. and i think part of my struggle is like this is an OLDASS FANDOM. at least in terms of the internet, and so its harder to find people who have those roles unfilled, because like it's already.. you know.

and so like.

i'm stuck here. rambling into the fucking VOID on tumblr because i'm too. fucking. i dont know late??

funny to be late as a time player but womp womp motherfucker, pull yourself up by your bootstraps and start damage control

but like

in all seriousness. i'm losing mad hope

ive gone from being like hey, yall need a dave? to hey, yall need a davesprite? to. radio motherfuckin silence.

and as a result i kinda yap at dirk too much, which totally makes me tweak the fuck out, like, dude. he has a life (albeit a totally like. chill one, that aint all that busy) and he doesnt have the time to like tend to you like youre a child with scarlet fever, and every last word that your whiny little vocal cords can muster could be like... you know. your last. like his ass is NOT writing your obituary

and so like i pull away kinda. and like. because of that pulling away i suddenly have this like. yapping desire that needs to be fulfilled but like i like having peer review. like it keeps it from being a massive fucking echo chamber of just misery and bullshit and like.

yeah

and so i.

i don't know, man. i made this blog for a reason.

i don't know if i thought it would help, or if it would like. help me connect to people, or what

what am i even doin here dawg

like theres just this existential feeling of DREAD here. doomed timeline type shit lmfaoooo i don't know though i

it could bring something good

or this could be something terrible for me

or it could be like journaling. which i used to do in physical books, because i liked doodling back then, but, ive lost that hobby, so like

this exists

but i only journaled when i didn't have friends

i have friends

i think

i just understand that those friends don't want to listen to me. frankly i wouldn't either, i mean like. read this shit again. would you really wanna sit down with your bro and hear this type of shit i don't know. this kinda turned into. something horrible haha

i'm better mentally than i was 4 years ago but whats the point when i be bitchin and moanin and whinin like this still

point is:

i miss my friends. i miss yapping (at) with them. i miss having friends in the first place. i miss feeling like i'm home, kin wise. the irony of the matter is im LOCKED OUT OF THE HOUSE. instead of uhh (checks notes) HOMESTUCK.

haha. im so funny. haha. yeah. uh. ramble over for now. i might pick this shit back up.

[falinscloaca]

OKAY! HERE GOES NOTHING! (writing this long before i end up posting because i still need to fucking compile shit. how hard is it to complain about things in here. god damn.)

First, The Initial Post:

if you can't click the original to see it full-size i'm gonna unfuse my atoms

okay, now some relevant OP-replies

OKAY *NOW* I COPY OVER THE MEAT OF THE REBLOG-ADDITION I WAS DRAFTING:

A) For the OP: hey if this post was only intended for your immediate circle and isn’t meant to describe everyone (despite literally stating shit in universal terms….) maybe turn off reblogs? I’m pretty sure the feature didn’t exist when this was posted but its not too late… unless tumblr doesn’t let you do that for old posts in which case fuck my life I guess B) For people reblogging this post thus removing it from its original context (apparently): This rhetoric doesn't meaningfully convince people with disordered eating habits (i.e. the most likely to "need" to eat their veggies) to eat healthier, nor does it cause people to be more sexually active. Which, like, is apparently unhealthy? I feel like we have a fair bit of "treating symptoms rather than causes" on these two, like I GET certain illnessess decreasing libido but for people who actually have a problem with that just telling them to fuck more often isn't... anything??? Fucking wierd. And by the way if this post isn't "about" people with serious roadblocks behind not doing the things this is urgently telling "you" to (even though logically those who CAN'T are most... like... at need....) then hot tip but "you" is a pronoun that refers to the "reader" and does not discriminate based on authorial intent. at least not without textual clarification thereof. which isn't really here unless you count the addendum to the original post which isn't even the one people are reblogging. Also, for the people insisting that the original message be recategorized for asexuals or those with indominable eating issues (or like, the other parts of the original message)- like insofar as "if you are asexual and reading this don't worry the ACTUAL message is to pleasure yourself in some way!!! not just have sex! :-)" - thats.... Sorry but that isn't in the original post. Like i get it, adapting a rather inflexible message for broader applicability, but at least fucking provide that without giving the original unearned positivity. It didn't fucking say that shit and you know it.

[Redacted 'til later is a third, C) section (lol babies are born), which pertains to other jackassery I will get to.]

#the replies being perhaps overdramatic but ‘you need sex to be human’ isnt really a good take even if that ‘you’ is not meant as a generally#applicable pronoun-tense#had to restrain myself from just saying ‘fuck off’ at first lmao i’m at least glad i checked the ORIGINAL post

Returning to my present editorializing, okay also i can't shake off a terf vibe from the OP. but like i also don't fucking care to go digging. searching "trans" didn't result in *anything* on the blog which is probably just tumblr being fumblr. thats as far as my will to investigate went.

Added since posting this because i found out *through this post*: Okay if you reblog your own post to add onto it you can't turn off other reblogs??? I guess??? Thats fucking stupid tumblr staff fix this shit. So the original A) point is just wrong. Fuck my gay ass (that'd make me human again even maybe).

NOW ITS TIME FOOOOOR: OTHER JACKASSERY!!!!!!!

C) "LOL MENTALLY ILL LOSER VIRGINS MALDING IN THE REPLIES LOLOL THIS POST IS BASED" seagullesque dipshits latching onto this (admittedly i only saw like three or four, and no "malding" and "based" weren't quite the lexicon at use. i paraphrased it into a style i find even more contemptible because i hate all your guts): congrats on making the OP's point worse somehow. And making everyone else look bad by association. Good job dickheads.

(Zesk is here to provide a visual break from "worst assholes on earth" and "giving my regards to somebody whose commentary i support".)

And lastly, tags anonymizedly taken from some random person that I agree with, and whose brevity I oh so deliciously envy:

i have by far my most ..... enthusiastically disagreeing with the op and people reblogging a post addition to said post saved to my drafts that i've had in YEARS, but like. the feeling that the OP seems "sus" and i might be exposing myself to harassment even if they aren't is.... gluhhh

[tatney]

saw first time viewing livewatch thoughts

* adam is so transgender <3

* oh so the quality of my ill eagle copy isn’t that bad it’s just that the lights were off lol

* his name is lawrence gordon. he’s a DOCTOR

* mr elwes sir please stop mumbling my autistic ears cannot hear your

* MR FAULKNER STANHEIGHT IS A WHOWERE. WHY DID YOU SHOW HIM YOUR TIT

* aha lawrence is t posing :)

* adam. my widdle boy

* lawrence telling him to take his shirt off 👀

* GSMSHSKWYKSBSKSUWLHD JOHN IS SUCH A BITCH

* I KNOW EVERYONE IN THE FANDOM CALLS ADAM PATHETIC BUT GOD

* john mulaney hmm gross!.jpeg

* okay but i WOULD have checked under the toilet lid first. the things you’ll do for an older man 😔

* these two are so bad at playing catch. the kids who didn’t run the mile representation

* if i could see cary elwes’ eyebrows better i’d find him s*xier

* JOHN KRAMER I’LL KILL YOU MYSELF. I HATE THIS MAN I CANNOT STAND THIS MAN

* so the editing really IS like that huh

* yes he IS a murderer you stupid son of a bitch. there is no “technically” about it you fucking idiot

* we’ve got two bitches from lost my beloved :)

* THAT’S THE PRESIDENT FROM THE BLACKLIST TOO

* all of sing’s clothes are too big for him. small man :)

* MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY

* PLEASE GOD I LOVE HER I LOVE HER SO FUCKING MUCH I’LL CRY

* i knew that the editing was like THAT but not that MUCH ya know goddamn

* oh a giallo style shot. lov that <3

* MISS SHAWNEE SMITH DESERVES EVERY AWARD ACTUALLY

* motherfucker on his liddol tricycle

* i would piss on that fucking puppet

* futurama they must learn our peaceful ways by force.jpeg

* that’s just john’s vibe

* i wonder how much of saw inspired the batman arkham games thinking emoji

* how am i only half an hour way through

* tbh i want this kid’s duvet not kidding

* girl you in DANGER

* and i want that big snake :)

* HE’S NOT PLAYING THIS LITTLE PIGGY. NOT IN A MOVIE WHEREIN PEOPLE DON PIG MASKS BC THEIR REPRESENT REBIRTH AND PEOPLE ARE CONTINUOUSLY CUTTING THEIR FEET OFF. MR WHANNEL I WOULD LIKE TO HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH YOU

* “she’s beautiful” he’s taking about the dog BSBNSYSLAYSLSBLSU

* “where’s the. uh lucky wife” and you mean to tell me that adam isn’t a homosexual when he looks at lawrence like that while saying this line

* “i’m always missing from the photos” oh sir i’ve been on saw tumblr just you wait for the dramatic irony to hit just you WAIT

* oh god i though jigsaw wrote a slur in there good GOD

* very billy from black christmas vibes, harold finch from person of interest :)

* excuse me mr tapp but who’s amy and why do you have her starbucks order

* OOOOOOOHHHH FUNKY TRANSITION

* james wan you are such a KING

* “who said anything about a warrant?” sir that’s illegal

* sir that’s breaking and entering

* sir that’s a LOT of paperwork that you won’t be able to complete bc you’ll be dead soon but STILL

* did jigsaw plan on lawrence wearing blue or was that a funny coincidence lol

* john’s wearing his bathrobe

* HIS ASSASSINS CREED BATHROBE HOLY SHIT

* ooh slidey door. wonder if there’ll be more of those later on teehee hoo hoo

* somebody show tapp the “that’s not your depression bed; that’s your nest omega” tiktok and see if that does anything

* “what do you want me to do? i’m on a leash” DOGBOY ADAM DOGBOY ADAM DOGBOY ADAM

* “you wanna put something in this room in your mouth?” “YES!!!!!!” are these lines from fanfiction verbatim

* adam you’re so fuckin stupid why would you spy on a man but keep the flash of your camera on

* OOOOOOOOOOH IT’S THE CINEMATIC PIG CARPARK SCENE

* “whatEVER” “i’m dealing with a juvenile.....” this is what happens when you have a sugar baby lawrence

* INFAMOUS ADAM GENDER SMOKING FAKE DEATH BREAKDANCE SCENE LET’S GOOOOOOOOOO

* little dogboy twink photographers have me in a perpetual chokehold they really do

* i mean he’ll waste a lot of film but. okay i guess this is a horror movie after all gsmshsksynbsmahsp

* BEATS THE SHIT OUT OF YOUR GAY LITTLE PUPPET WITH MY BAT

* oh adam really is serving jonathan byers teas with the baseball bat and the camera as weapons. fuck

* cary elwes posh little accent coming THROUGH

* adam doesn’t make sense as cis man. he just doesn’t look at that man he’s so transgender

* ok but lawrence’s “mistress” is GORGEOUS actually omg

* i’m still gonna say that he’s gay tho. u can’t take that away form me lol

* adam’s wrists are so LIMP holy shit

* lawrence gordon classist moments

* mr elwes please control your accent sir i’m struggling not to laugh

* ok ally’s a girlboss then !

* michael emerson my beloved. when you try to be evil you have all the menace of a disgruntled bunny rabbit

* “lawrence get up! i need you!” now when you fuckers told me these two were gay you didn’t say THIS gay

* at least ally and diana are ok :)

* ok my headcanon is that lawrence is originally from england but was moved to america as a kid bc i need in contextual reasons for all of the accent slips that i can’t take seriously

* ADAM GIRLBOSS MOMENT

* “don’t worry i’ll bring someone back i promise” YOU LYING TRICK ASS MOTHERFUCKER I’LL KILL YOU MYSELF /j /affectionate

* at least john’s got that ARCH

* IT’S THE SCENE IT’S THE SCENE

* god that movie fucked. that movies fucked SO hard good god no wonder gay people love it

* ok i think that ill league gull copy broke my laptop lol

[batarangsoundsdumb]

guess fucking what? my inbox is so fucking full right now i'm unloading all of this shit in one post.

For the 11th gotham memes: gothamites react to bruce being jacked in a tiktok he made with kids, like super yoked, ripped as hell

fucking hilarious thanks. i think i did it in one meme post, but i genuinely don't remember which one

i dunno which of the batfam would do this but one time i was sleeping over at a friends house and ended up on the floor bc the bed was so very small and i just stayed there because the rug was soft

that's a drunk jason move i don't know what to tell you

tim and jason are "i listen to pop punk" solidarity. whenever jason highjacks the batmobile theyll go on long ass car rides blaring mcr and paramore and then never talk about it again

as they should!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! tim: no jason it's my turn using the aux cord i gotta put on my jams jason: don't you dare put on weird shit tim: don't worry, you're gonna love this *plays fearless (taylor's version)

hear me out hear me out, red hood stans 🤝 nightwing stans t h i g h s

holy shit yes.

SNL au: Bruce breaks character when pretending to superman and says something like "I'm not superman! You've seen his gps!! It's from 2001!!!" @sabeanybabe

superman flies past the snl building the next day just to say 'actually it's from 2005, i'm not a heathen'

does your back hurt from carrying the batfam fandom

it hurts more from the exotic rock collection i keep in my backpack, but thanks for the concern.

I love your posts by why would you always leave the best parts in the tags?

as a treat for the people that check the tags ;) (and also because i'm committed to the short post aesthetic)

somehow your playlist was everything i never knew i needed. i mean it. this is my new favorite playlist.

and don't you dare get a new favourite playlist!

babe ur stoner tim playlist is exactly too perfect, earth is literally blessed by ur existence

babe thanks so much! i love my stoner tim playlist because it's just my usual playlist but people think it's an artistic choice that i put taylor swift and britney spears in there, when it's just what i unironically like listening to

JANDKSKDK BILLY RAY CYRUS ON THE STONER TIM PLAYLIST I LOVE IT IT

again it's not even an ironic choice, i know every single word and i genuinely like the song

The last chapter of Fundamentals of Casework has me crying at work. Thanks I love it @dudelookitsalesbian

oh babe, i'm sorry, but also, not sorry i love chapter 4 so much it's my lovechild with the 'mental illness' tag

soooo....stumbled on your tumblr by some stroke of fate??? read your DC fanfic first. which is PHENOMENAL btw. then found all the batmemes; the funniest thing EVER bc everyone forgets about regular old gothamites. kept scrolling and your blog pops up as recommended. clicked on the ao3 for shits and giggles and waddaya know?!?!? it's YOU!!! you're LEGEND!!!! ever seen that meme? it's a video of a cat that got into a baseball field and the two announcers get really invested in his escape attempt and start giving a play by play of the cat instead of the game. memeable moment: "GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!"

i seriously think about this ask every single day and it's so fucking funny to me that i've never seen the meme you're referencing, but i still find myself going 'GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!' whenever i see something funny. but wow i'm glad you liked this steaming pile of garbage

Fav dc character overall? And fav batfamily character?

don't ask me to pick between the loves of my life, but i can tell you i've cried about every single batfamily member and also wally west (my beloved)

What's your opinion on fans having a problem with batfam being "too big"? And some even claim that batfam is just "Bruce Alfred Dick Damian" and the rest of them are just "friends and allies" (source: reddit) Personally, I like batfam because of this reason but idk

stupid. a family can never be too big. i'm not that big a fan of like huge batfam stuff with everybody from every single universe, because as much as it's funny for bruce to have like 30 kids, it just feels a little too OOC for me.

This is the best tag I've seen involving the batfam, thanks for thinking of it

This is canon now @nctxrejects

lmao yeah i think at that point alfred has had to sit through like at least a dozen coming out talks and just has a pride flag collection in the attic that he pulls out whenever a kid comes out

idk why batfam hits different as compared to any other superhero family

bc it's found family and usually the other superhero families are almost all genetically related in one way or another

I don't know if you watch the umbrella academy but I saw your last post about batcest and saw the similarities. But the thing is (although I think it's weird) in TUA, they addressed it by saying "they were raised as weapons, not siblings" or something along those lines, which is simply not the case with batfam.

yeah i watched tua but i also thought it was ridiculous and they still treated each other as siblings so i didn't like the luthor/allison thing, and am glad they stopped doing that shit bc it fucking sucked.

Hot take: Batcest shippers are the same people who believe adopted siblings are not actual siblings

smoking hot take: batcest shippers are the people who watch 'my sister got stuck in the washing machine' porn

Duke was adopted by Bruce?

not technically no, but do i, tumblr user batarangsoundsdumb, look like i care?

True story but I had to change my freaking name because it used to be "Damien" and most people would go "OH LIKE DAMIAN WAYNE" like please I'm just tryna live

true story, but i don't actually think of damian when i hear the name damian, literally the first thing that pops up is damian darkh like bruh what?

apparently dc comics company supported comic stores by giving out new titles and stuff during the beginning of the pandemic to help them run and I just think that's wholesome

ah yeah that's so fucking cool, still don't like dc, the company, because this world is a capitalist hellhole and we're all owned by warner brothers or disney with no in between.

ayo looking at tumblr head canons and finding out bruce is actually a terrible father is a punch in the gut

lmao yes, in like 50% of comics bruce is a terrible father and it gives me whiplash

oooh I just saw the jason todd vs winter soldier post and the real question is: batman vs iron man

while iron man has like hundreds of cases of armor, batman could throw out an emp and have the guy dropping out of the sky in 2 seconds.

dickfast = fastdick = quickdick = quickie

magnum hot take

hey bata(?) just thought I'd let you know I have copied the obnoxious emoji and Billy Ray post for use on simping men going forth

thank you 😘🌷 (@spacebarsidecar)

why would you do that to your followers???? i get why i did it, but why would you???

what is scarecrow made the nightwing funko pop himself, like those diy-ers that paint over other ones

oh god no, horrible take, horrible take, that's a disgusting thought oh no

I see your HC that Bruce and Oliver fucked and raise you this: Dick and Roy ALSO fucked

yes they did and it was a horrible moment for jason to find out dick has fucked both of his best friends

"at this rate bruce adds like 1 child to his family every decade or so" Duke is introduced in 2013, Damian as Damian, not as an unnamed child, in 2006. And he is already 14 years old, Robins rarely remain Robins after 16 😬 It looks like a new Robin and Batkid will appear in a couple of years

i mean i can't wait? but somebody will probably die first tho, we're due for another major character death. my money's on either cass or duke this time.

BRO you're so right all of your Bruce's ex headcanons are amazing but they aren't ships, that's kinda wild. Like I don't want any peeks into how their relationship was I just want to see everyone make fun of them

lmao YES it's just i love bruce being a slut, like good for him.

I am in love with your posts your honour thank you

omg thanks are we like,, gonna kiss now?

The justice league needs to have a meeting to discuss how many of their members/partners have slept with bruce. Because through a combination of cannon & fannon (if DC wasn’t homophobic) we have AT LEAST: 1) clark 2) lois 3) oliver 4) dinah 5) john

Thats not counting villains or random civilians @dudelookitsalesbian

yes yes yes, they'll have a yearly meeting about how many of their collective exes could be out for revenge and batman's list just keeps getting longer.

tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.

and what about it?

when steph's fighting livewire and she zaps her with lighting and nothing happens and then they both just. stand there awkwardly for a second and talk. yeah i couldn't stop laughing at that batgirl steph is the BEST

oh yeah that was fucking hilarious and i think it would be so cool and sexy of dc to give steph a little comic series,,, as a treat

Hi I absolutely adore all of yours "Bruce and Oliver very badly pretending they didn't fuck each other" memes

lmao i do too

I need you to know that “Bruce Wayne had frosted tips” is one of my favorite Bruce takes of all time it’s so galaxy brained. you’re right and you should say it

he also painted his hair blonde once when he was travelling and in conclusion, this is why he's being blackmailed by the gotham gazette.

you know my thing about gordon being branded as the only good cop in gotham is its a load of shit like arguably he's a good person and not working to screw people over or anything but the fact that he also works w. batman makes him a shit cop. like yea batman is better than the mob but its still illegal its still an abuse of power he just not making bank

babe, all cops are bad cops. (but yeah youre absolutely right, working with vigilantes makes you a shit cop, but also working against vigilantes just makes you an asshole cop yanno?)

ruh roh i think i’m about to add “so not yeehaw” every time i don’t like something

that's a very good vocabulary upgrade

somehow i feel like steph already knew. like babs obviously knew but i feel like bruce got high/drunk in front of steph and started telling his boarding school stories and steph was just like “oh you fucked up i’m never gonna forget this”

steph and bruce have weird uncle/rebellious niece dynamic and they just hang out sometimes and bruce will be like 'i once broke my arm when i tripped over a hedge when i was drunk so oliver drove me to the hospital on an electric scooter' and steph will just have to sit there with that knowledge in her head.

Hello I just wanted to tell you you are So right in all your steph opinions bc she is, in fact amazing and I think that's very sexy of you. Ps. Your Bruce/Oliver fic is hilarious

babe, thank you so much and yes steph is amazing and i love her and she deserves the world and she's the best member of the batfam hands down. also thanks

In Supersons we see a couple of kids that are implied to be Damian and Jon's children and the boy has laser eyes and can fly, so I asume he's not adopted. The girl, who calls Bruce grandpa, can also fly, btw. So it's canon (probably by accident) that Jon can have kids and he must have married one of Bruce's kids. (I'm hoping for Damian, mostly because any other of his children would be waaaaaaaaaaaaay too old.) @artemisa97

lmao that was probably an accident seeing as jon is a 17 year old superhero in the year 3000 (by the jonas brothers)

You know, I'm a die hard fan of your memes, but I gotta say one thing: if Gothamites actually took gas mask everywhere with them, then the Scarecrow would just be a weird dude in a weird costume, and not a villain oh so scary. DC really should just takes notes from you.

bold of you to assume there's no gothamite anti-maskers

How does it feel being the funniest person on this app?

horrible, next question.

I can't listen to Green Day or Billy Joel without thinking of your post about how Bruce got arrested at a Billy Joel concert @nightwings-kid

yeah that's your mistake, i on the other hand can't enjoy billy joel without thinking about the glee rendition of 'uptown girl'

I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.

superman: so what do you do in your free time? batman, thinking about the superman fanfiction he's writing on the batcomputer: i have no free time

bruce and oliver be like boyfriends to co-workers 401k (do the justice leagues get 401ks??? not that bruce and ollie would need them, but-)

lmao yes just 400 thousand words of bruce realising 'oh dip oliver is such a fucking dumbass' (also i don't know what a 401 k is but i assume they don't?)

Gothamites would totally boo superman as he saves Gotham while batman is out. @meenje

he's like 'okay think about that next time you want to be saved from an alien octopus'

I just took long break from dc comics and I come back to see ric grayson ??

i think it's very cool and sexy of dc to see dick and just think 'you know what? let's just give him a traumatic brain injury' and then didn't develop his character in any real way

SPEAKING OF RIC GRAYSON, gothamites making confused memes out of ric grayson is much needed

'dick grayson is my taxi driver? can anyone explain what the fuck happened he looks like an italian plumber?'

i hate to say it but batfam are def "marvel characters" in that sense they are characters who are human but become superheroes unlike most dc characters who are gods trying to be human maybe this is why I like batfam

fair enough

[licieoic]

“Pour One Out” - Digital Oil Painting

Inspired by Suptober, theme: Pour One Out. Bartender/Patron AU! This one was actually inspired by a number of themes from Suptober including “Family Business” and “Favorite,” as shown in the ficlet below the cut. (It’s PG, though Dean is having some more adult oriented thoughts, LOL.)

Please see the pinned post at the top of my Tumblr for my links if you'd like to help support me in saving for a safe place to live!

“Hey.”

Looking up, Dean saw his brother, Sam, sticking his head into the brewing room. It had to be nearly time for his shift, he already had his abundant hair pulled back.

“Your favorite’s here,” he said.

Dean straightened up so fast, he nearly dropped the pitcher of beer he’d been pouring so carefully. “Trench Coat?” At least, that was the name he used with Sam; he didn’t want his brother knowing what he called the quiet man in his head. He’d never quite had the courage to ask the man’s actual name and since Winchester Bros was cash only, he couldn’t sneak a look at a credit card either. He’d considered asking for his ID, as that was perfectly acceptable in a bar, but since he was clearly over legal drinking age it would just make Dean look like he was stupid or an ass.

“Usual spot,” Sam answered before popping back into the main area of the bar.

He got up close to the shiny brewing vat in front of him and tried to check his appearance, but the metal didn’t make for a good mirror and left him looking deformed. Damn… He hoped there was nothing to worry about, like food in his teeth or crustiness in the corners of his green eyes, and that his light brown hair was just the right amount of tousled, leaning more toward ‘I woke up like this’ and less like ‘I use a lot of product.’ Then he reached into the pocket of his apron for the breath mint he always kept there, on the chance that his favorite patron would stop by.

It was easy to remember the first time he’d ever seen him, he doubted he would ever forget. Five months after he and Sam had opened the bar, they’d had to strike a deal with the Devil (Dean’s private name for their wealthy investor, Crowley) in order to save it from going under. It had always been their dream to start up a family business and they’d each quit lucrative careers (Dean as a mechanic, Sam as a lawyer) to open Winchester Bros. It had taken every penny of their life savings to do it, they just couldn’t give up so soon.

Pride still smarting with the knowledge that they’d be under Crowley’s thumb for the foreseeable future, Dean hadn’t exactly been the friendliest bartender that night. After being short with a small bachelorette party, Sam told him to concentrate on the solo patrons at the bar who usually weren’t the chatty types and leave the groups to him. Dean hadn’t argued, they needed as much patronage as possible, he could ill afford to turn what could be repeat customers into people who never came back just because he was in a mood.

Down at the far end of the bar, he saw a man with dark, messy hair hunched over the bar. He wore a slightly dirty trench coat over a deep navy suit and had a five o’clock shadow darkening his jawline. All in all, a fairly standard-looking barfly, if he were judging a book by its cover. Dean leaned both hands on the bar and tried not to sound too brusque as he asked, “What can I get you?”

Then the man looked up… and Dean forgot everything. He was lost in the bluest eyes ever to blue, bluer than the tie hanging crooked from the man’s neck. Dean’s mouth might have gone slack, he wasn’t sure. They were like angel’s eyes, almost too pretty to be real.

“I don’t know,” said the man, immediately dubbed Angel Eyes. He seemed kind of down, but that wasn’t unusual for a lone bar patron. “Do you have a menu?”

“W-we do,” said Dean, pulling over the list printed on laminated cardstock once he remembered how to speak. The line at the top read ‘Winchester Brews,’ which he’d thought damn clever at the time, now he worried it was corny. “Ahem… Everything on offer is brewed in-house, plus I can make you just about anything you like.”

“Anything, huh?” He looked at the menu, but didn’t really seem to be reading it. “I don’t know,” he said again, “surprise me?”

Something was really bothering this man, Dean could tell, his bartender instincts were jangling like crazy. His bi-dar, however, was all over the place. He never had a problem flirting with the ladies who came in, but it was always hard to tell if he was clear to make a pass at a man. That kind of thing could get dangerous, depending on who it was and what kind of attitude they had.

“Surprise you,” Dean repeated, reaching below the bar for a tumbler which he filled with a few ice cubes. “Well, you look like a man of… discerning tastes.” He followed this with a wink to test the waters. To his delight, Angel Eyes smiled. And Dean’s heartbeat doubled. He turned around and took a surreptitious breath in an attempt to calm it down, but it didn’t work.

From the back shelf, he retrieved a bottle of whiskey with a simple handwritten label on the front that read ‘Winchester Special #5’ and turned back to face him. As he poured, Dean said, “This here is our monthly special.”

“What makes it special?”

“It changes every month,” said Dean. “Afterward, we add it to the list of brews. And if you can guess the flavor, the inspiration behind it… it’s on me.”

“Has anyone gotten it right yet?” It was the nineteenth, he’d assumed correctly that some people had already tried Dean’s challenge.

He shook his head. “Not quite.” Gesturing at the tumbler, he quirked a brow and asked, “Care to try?”

Angel Eyes picked up the glass and took a sip. He tilted his head, appearing thoughtful.

“So?” asked Dean when he didn’t get an immediate answer. “What’s it taste like to you?”

“Hmm. Molecules.”

Dean laughed outright and Angel Eyes grinned. “Well, you’re not wrong!” he exclaimed. “Molecules, heh, can’t say I’ve ever heard that one before, but is that your final answer?”

Swirling the ice in the glass, Angel Eyes took a longer pull, maintaining eye contact with Dean as he rolled the whiskey slowly over his tongue. Dean’s mouth went dry as he watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down when he swallowed. Unconsciously, he licked his lips and those bluer than blue eyes followed the movement.

Angel Eyes clicked his tongue. “Blueberry…” he said, slowly. “But there’s something else… It’s sweet and… creamy?”

“No hints,” said Dean, but mentally he was cheering the man on, wanting him to make the right guess, and he was so, so close.

He took one last sip from the glass, finishing it off. “It’s good. I like it. It reminds me of a blueberry sour cream pie. Final answer.”

Dean grinned broadly. “We have a winner!”

He returned the smile with one of his own and it seemed like both of them had forgotten their problems prior to their meeting each other. “Really?”

Nodding, Dean poured him another. “On me. Since you’re the first correct guess.”

He picked up the tumbler and saluted Dean with it. “Cheers.”

Dean nodded, a little disappointed that he didn’t have an excuse to keep their conversation going, and turned to go back to work.

“Oh, and—”

Heart in his throat, he looked back. Angel Eyes hesitated.

“Thank you,” he said, finally. “This… really helped.”

“Yeah?”

He made a vague gesture. “I don’t want to get into it, I know bartenders aren’t therapists,” he said. “Just some family issues.”

Dean’s heart sank. He had a family. Of course he did. “Well, you’re not the first guy to come here to escape his wife for a while,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Oh, I’m not married,” Angel Eyes said.

“Girlfriend?” came out of Dean’s mouth before he could stop himself.

He shook his head. “One of my brothers is constantly going through a rebellious phase. Our father isn’t happy about it.”

“Ohhhh, well, I can definitely understand annoying brothers,” said Dean, aiming his thumb at Sam who was down at the opposite end of the bar, and forcing himself to swallow down any follow-up questions. He’d already said he didn’t want to talk about it, Dean wanted to respect that. “You should bring your family around,” he said, smiling. “It’s easier to open up after a few, you know?”

Angel Eyes chuckled. “I’m not sure if that would be a good thing or a bad thing. Besides…” He thumbed the rim of his glass before glancing back up, hitting him with that blue gaze all over again. “I don’t know if I want them coming around here. Maybe I want to keep you all to myself.”

Any thoughts of pushing for more patrons to offset his and Sam’s massive debt had flown away. Dean could only nod like an idiot, he knew what the man meant, of course, but the unspoken implications in the statement were pinging around in his head like a super ball. He might have squeaked out an ‘okay’ or a ‘yeah’ as he headed back to work, he didn’t remember. He did remember almost tripping over his own feet and not looking back, knowing his face would be bright red. He pretended to not remember hearing another chuckle.

Since then, Angel Eyes came in at least once a week, always sat at the end of the bar, and always ordered the monthly special, even though he paid for each subsequent drink following his correct guess. He was never wrong about the flavor either, which amazed Dean, he even got the lemon meringue right. He’d been so sure that no one would get it – he’d heard lemon-vanilla, toasted marshmallow, all kinds of other things because who guesses ‘meringue’ for a whiskey anyway? Apparently, a man with gorgeous blue eyes in a slightly dirty trench coat. Three months in, he was the only person who’d figured out that Dean based all the specials on his favorite pies and it only made his guesses come that much quicker.

As he headed out to the front, he dropped off the pitcher of beer and grabbed #15 from the shelf. He almost couldn’t believe it had been ten months since his favorite patron had first come in. Tonight was the night, he resolved, he would ask for Angel Eyes’ actual name. Maybe in another ten months, he’d work up the courage to ask for his number. Dean internally rolled his eyes at himself. He was truly pathetic.

Angel Eyes perked up at the end of the bar the moment Dean emerged from the back, yellow light from a nearby neon sign on the wall reflecting off his dark hair, almost like a halo. They smiled at each other and Dean’s heart was immediately doing flips, seeing how obviously happy he was to see him. Could be the Crush Goggles, but still…

“Fancy seeing you here,” said Dean, filling the glass with ice and setting it down on the bar. “I was wondering when you’d be in to try the latest special.”

“I’m just hoping it isn’t Pumpkin Spice,” said Angel Eyes. Being that it was October, it was a fair comment. You couldn’t go ten feet without encountering something bearing that smell and/or flavor.

“I do like pumpkin pie,” said Dean, pouring the whiskey. “But I think it’s more of a November flavor.”

Dark brows lifted. “A hint? This is new. What did I do to deserve that?”

Dean laughed. “Maybe I’m in a good mood, that’s all.”

“Me too. It’s a good night.”

“Hopefully, about to be better,” said Dean, nodding at the glass.

“I don’t need to drink to have a good time,” he said, but picked up the tumbler all the same to have a sip.

“Your continued presence at my bar says otherwise,” said Dean.

Angel Eyes swallowed. “There are other reasons a person might come to a bar.”

“Such as?”

“Good ambience.” He took a longer sip and let his eyes wander over Dean before traveling back up as he swallowed. “I like the company.”

Dean hoped he wasn’t blushing but he couldn’t hold back a goofy smile. “You do get to meet all kinds of people in a place like this,” he said.

“Yes, though I was referring to one specific person.”

“Yeah?”

He finished the whiskey and set down the glass, meeting Dean’s eyes head-on. “Yes.”

Mouth dry, Dean cleared his throat. “So, uh…” He gestured at the tumbler. “Any guesses?”

“Maybe.” He trailed one finger around the rim of the glass. “If I pay for the drink, can I have something else as my prize? If I get it right, of course.”

“Uh.” He swallowed hard. “S-s-sure.” He could hardly manage the one word; he couldn’t even summon the brain power to ask what it was he wanted.

Smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Angel Eyes considered his answer. “This is a good one,” he said. “Definitely not pumpkin, but it has sweetness… and a note of tart as well.”

“Are you a sommelier?” Dean asked suddenly. “That would sure as hell explain a lot.”

He laughed, the bright sound so incongruous with his gravelly voice, it had quickly become one of Dean’s favorite things about him. So much so, that he would go out of his way to come up with a corny joke or allow himself to be a little clumsy, just for the chance to hear that laugh.

“No,” he said, still smiling. “Disappointed?”

“No. I just can’t figure out how you’re never wrong.”

“I haven’t made my guess yet,” he pointed out.

“And?”

Deliberately, he reached into his glass and retrieved a small ice cube. Before Dean knew what was happening, Angel Eyes was popping it into his mouth and sucking on it while he thought about what answer to give.

Guh. He has to be doing this on purpose! Dean thought. How does he make everything he does so sexy?

Still keeping eye contact with Dean, he bit down hard. Crunch! If he kept this up, Dean would need to run to the bathroom and readjust his jeans. To try and diffuse some of the tension in the air, Dean attempted to make a joke like he usually would.

“You, uh, you know what they say about people who chew their ice, don’t you?” he asked, almost tripping on his own tongue.

“No,” he said, to Dean’s surprise. “What do they say?”

Well, this backfired spectacularly, thought Dean. “They, uh… that they’re, well, you know…” Those clear blue eyes wouldn’t give him an inch, Angel Eyes sat patiently waiting to hear the punchline of Dean’s naughty joke like they were talking about the weather. He had no choice but to quietly stutter, “That they’re… s-s-sexually frustrated.”

“Oh.”

Really? That’s all you have to say, ‘oh’? thought Dean, incredulously. While he watched, Angel Eyes fished out another ice cube and crunched down on it viciously, all while holding Dean’s gaze, as if to punctuate his statement. Heat creeping up into his cheeks, Dean took a steadying breath. Curse blushing, he thought. Curse the noun, curse the verb, curse the act!

“H-have I finally stumped you?” Dean asked when his tongue decided to work again.

“Caramel apple rhubarb,” he said, definitively. “Final answer.”

“Damn!” exclaimed Dean, pounding one fist on the bar. “You did it again!”

All he did was smile in response, the handsome bastard. As he reached into his coat pocket, he casually remarked, “You know, your freckles disappear when you blush.”

He blinked. “They do?”

“Then I get to notice them all over again when they come back.” Retrieving his wallet, he pulled out a ten-dollar bill and placed it on the bar between them. “It’s what I’ve been calling you in my head all this time. Freckles.”

“Well, that’s kind of rude, how would you like it if my brother and I were calling you Trench Coat behind your back?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Okay, good, because that’s totally what we’ve been doing.”

They snickered together.

“Out of curiosity,” said Dean, “what were you calling Sammy?”

“Manbun.”

Dean snorted. “I’m absolutely going to call him that.”

“So, his name is Sam? You don’t wear nametags, so I’ve only ever known your last name.”

“Nametags are lame.”

“They are. What’s your name, then?”

“Is this what you wanted instead of a free drink?”

“No, this is something I should have asked ten months ago.”

Fair point. Dean held out his hand. “Dean,” he said.

His fingers were cold from the ice but his palm was warm and smooth. “Castiel.”

“Wow.” It wasn’t a name he’d ever heard before; surprise mixed with his pleasure over finally learning the name of his long-held crush. “Wasn’t expecting that.”

“What were you expecting?”

“Not sure. Probably something anti-climactic, like Steve.” He picked up the ten with his other hand. “I’ll get you some change.”

Castiel tightened his grip when Dean would have let go. “Keep it,” he said. “Consider it a tip.”

“Okay,” Dean said, slowly, tucking the bill into his apron pocket.

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” asked Castiel.

“No.”

He grinned and it put all of the smiles Dean had received before to shame. It held a hint of mischievousness as he said, “That’s what I want.”

“You-you want—what? D-dinner? W-with me?” Dean couldn’t quite believe his ears. He’d barely been able to hope for a first-name basis tonight, he couldn’t possibly be so lucky as to score a date. But then, considering they’d been dancing around each other for ten months, maybe Castiel thought if he didn’t make the first move, it would never happen.

Bringing up his other hand, Castiel sandwiched Dean’s between the two as he said, very deliberately, “I don’t believe I’ve guessed wrong.”

Dean could be pretty dense sometimes, but he knew unequivocally that Castiel wasn’t talking about the whiskey. “I’m off in half an hour,” he said, smiling like an idiot.

“I’ll be waiting… Freckles.”

Okay… so maybe blushing wasn’t such a bad thing.

[sta-bright]

My First Tumble

Hi Tumblr,

I was inspired to get a Tumblr account, believe it or not, from Netflix's 2021 four-part docu-series "Crime Scene: The Vanishing at the Cecil Hotel." Although I highly doubt anyone cares enough to read any of my posts or has the attention span to read anything longer than a few sentences written by a 23 year old with her boobs out, *just in case,* SPOILER ALERT.

The (main) topic of the show focuses around Elisa Lam, who vanished in early 2013 when she was staying at the Cecil Hotel and was then found dead in one of the four water tanks on the roof 19 days after being reported missing (I think I have that correct but don't hold me to it, imaginary readers. It was something like that.).

Anyway, "...to make a long story short"... "too late" #cluereference, Elisa had a Tumblr blog. It seemed to be a good setup for how she was writing very personally, which is what I want to do, so here we go. I have a blog page for the business I own, but to be honest, it's geared more toward, well, business, so I don't feel like I can write freely, or only like the "good" or "normal" part of myself, the good stuff geared at an audience without scaring people away or whatever. So for this one, I don't really care as much about proper grammar or spelling, just somewhere to write my real thoughts if and when I can focus enough to sort them out enough to put them down. I have a bunch of journals, but they are all over the place and I can't write fast enough, so I'm going to try this out. I have a lot to say, and I think even just putting it out there even though I know no one cares might help me feel a little bit of relief, even if anyone does read it and might think I'm an idiot or whatever.

I wasn't sure what to name my blog, and I'm not sure if there's a way to change it in the future, but for now I have decided on "Sta-Bright." Most of my family and some of my close friends call me "Sta" and my partner David calls me Sta Bright, which I think is really cute and makes me happy, so here we are. I use the word partner because I think the word boyfriend is a little too young for us and our relationship warrants a higher level than that. ANYWAY, there is the background information for you, my new friend, Tumblr. I already feel better.

So, this show really pissed me off for a few (many) reasons. I've legitimately been pacing around all morning. First, even the title of the show is misleading. The death of Elisa Lam was not a "crime." It was a devastating incident of accidental death highly likely (as confidently confirmed by all professionals involved) related to a psychotic episode of her mental illness, Bipolar I, which I also happen to have. Netflix using the title "Crime Scene" to lure watchers in is disgusting within itself. Good for you, Netflix. Holla for the dollas! Make that money, baby.

Then, beyond the fact Netflix milked four episodes out of a glamorized case that was ruled an accidental death for this reason not even long after finding Elisa, it is the whole ordeal of the reality and dramatizing of this saga that is so sad.

Upon the release of the famous elevator footage the day she went missing, it went viral almost instantaneously.

*Hold please* I actually just read an article by BBC.com where director of the series, Joe Berlinger, says, "For the average viewer it's another compelling story you watch and then move on to the next. But for who this happened to, it's the worst moment in their life. It's a real tragedy for that person and that family." LOLOLOLOL OKAY JOE!!!! Is this why you spent FOUR EPISODES talking about bullshit theories to keep people hooked and open more discussion? You know that this is not out of respect. Shame on YOU!

"If you look at the other tellings of the story, you'd see she's the victim of some horrible, evil presence that took control of her.

"Those kinds of narratives, I think, are incredibly disrespectful and probably why the family just didn't want to deal with another show that was going to exaggerate the circumstances of the tragedy."

So is this why you made a show exaggerating the circumstances of the tragedy? Lol. "We need to talk about the ghost stories" Or do you need to talk about them to open a can of worms to more losers who fixate on the case? OR IS THAT JUST ME? I don't know. Lemme tell ya what. If anything ever happens to me, please make sure this Joe Schmuck doesn't make a pathetic docuseries about it.

Then, aside from the pathetic profit of Netflix, the actual details of what happened and how society and the "web sleuths" investigated, obsessed, and chimed in on this case is a whole other ballpark about society's minimization and lack of knowledge or respect for mental illness on its own.

THEN, there is a quote by Amy Price, the manager of the hotel during the incident, who is now profiting on a book she is writing about HER experience:

"I want to share my story," she says.

"But this isn't a horror story or anything like that. This is a story about struggle."

Okay, Amy. Whose fucking struggle are you writing about here? I legitimately don't know if she is referring to hers or Elisa's, but either way, it's gross.

It makes me so sad that this whole situation warranted MILLIONS of theories, millions of internet trolls writing articles about the "BIZARRE" death of this girl. This case is not fucking bizarre. It is unfortunate but it is not bizarre. This case was plastered all over internet lists with the titles "bizarre, unexplained cases of missing people." It's not unexplained, and it only was not for long.

These "web sleuths" were busy having a blast, going to the crime scene, smiling as they recorded, posting videos about their stupid theories. Trolls posting their dumb, far-fetched theories without knowing all of the facts, thinking they know better than the professionals, who DO have the findings, did do the labs, did do the investigations. And people still insist that THERE HAS TO BE MORE.

Of course, I don't know all the facts either. BUT, according to the actual professionals involved rather than the entire population of people who love a good "mystery," Elisa's toxicology results showed that her levels of the medications she was supposed to be on signified she had not been taking them as she should have been. They also found bottles of her medicine that had more pills than prescribed, also showing that she had not been taking them.

THEN, she was removed from the room she had been sharing with a few others due to "odd behavior" leaving weird post-its telling them to go away, or whatever. THEN, apparently going into the hotel lobby and screaming "I'm crazy!" or whatever it was.

Although all experiences with mental illnesses are unique, all of these details plus the footage, both detailing erratic behavior, leave no doubt in my mind that the professionals, SHOCKINGLY, CRAZILY, may be right! Who thunk it! I have legitimately acted in the ways described and shown in the video. I don't and couldn't understand HERS, but I understand MY paranoia, hallucinations, experiences I have had, and the actions that are presented, and I guarantee some would look very similar to that footage. Ask the few people who know me best what it's like when I'm not on my meds or fuck them up. I legitimately saw myself in her actions.

Yet, the internet losers had to fixate on a death metal artist who had stayed in the hotel for a few days A YEAR before any of this happened and legitimately ruined his life. His alibi was completely valid and he was dismissed by investigators. He was out of the country, he had tons of substantial paperwork and proof that he was, but that didn't matter.

Because no one takes bipolar disorder seriously, dismissing it as just mood swings, people being dramatic, seeking attention, being lazy, and everyone needs something more sensational, THIS wasn't even an option. They needed to fixate on crazy, fun conspiracy theories, watching the footage over and over and over again, sitting in their caves with their thumbs up their asses writing about their ballpark theories, internet bullying innocent people instead of doing any research on bipolar disorder, instead of defending or considering that it was a psychotic episode, which literally all of the official facts and footage present.

Clearly I'm not a professional either, but like... watch the show and you tell me. You tell me what you think is likely. You tell me what the professionals agree on. But before you make that call, try reading a little bit about bipolar disorder. Try reading about the psychotic episodes that can come with it. It probably won't change your mind, but oh well. It probably is just the hotel being haunted, ya know. Right? This is just my little rant that doesn't matter.

If you want to think it was a ghost, a demon, if it was a murder even though she literally had zero signs of any physical violence and there was zero evidence of it and all evidence the other way, you do that, boo. Have a blast. Hey, I 100% could be wrong, right? Absolutely. Who am I? Just a little dramatic, stupid, crazy nobody.

That's just my take, no better than any other internet trolls, I suppose. When all is said and done, in my little fantasy world, I guess people would just take bipolar disorder seriously and understand the severity of it. People would take it to consideration for the actions and words of those who have it. That's not fun, though. Everyone loves money, everyone loves a good story. Everyone loves making fun of people. Everyone loves a disability you can see. Everything I do is just me being an oddball. Everyone loves to be an internet bully.

I'm sorry for Elisa and her family who have had to deal with years of this. Years of people dismissing the severity of mental illness and obsessing over ghost stories, obsessing over the number of likes or views they get, money they make off of it.

Wow, that was a blast. I'm fairly confident no one will read this, but I feel a lot better that I put that out there. Again, I'm a little nobody, so nothing I say matters, but that's just my take on all of it. I've given up trying to convince anyone that I'm anything but weird, because I know no one will care or accept that. I'll just keep making people feel uncomfortable and keep looking like an idiot. Woe is me, am I right?

You have a blessed day now.

[justcallmetar]

I haven't wrote a text post on Tumblr in a grip lmao but HNY niggas

I just wanted to reflect on my 2021 because I feel like it was probably the most interesting year of my life. I learned a lot about myself as a human being. Like so much and Im still learning which is cool. Always moving forward. I hit the one year mark staying in Indiana in my own place. I fought mad battles of depression, sleepless nights, tears, etc. Was in a serious relationship and did not end well which is normal. Im not going to be the typical person to say that it was toxic or a shitty situationship. It just did not work out like everything else and we both learned from it. I honestly never experience a heartbreak in awhile but I openly admit it was my fault. Not going into detail but whatever. I felt like I made the right decision. Besides that it was also mad shit going on lol. I was lowkey raw dogging life mentally, financially, like all the ways. I definitely don’t regret the trips I made when I wasn't suppose to, bought the dumb shit I did, etc. It seemed like this was the first year I truly experience adulthood at such a late age (in my opinion). I met so many cool people from basketball in this weird ass area of the midwest. I played so much fucking basketball dude lol. It was awesome. I would say basketball kept me sane throughout this entire year. It wasn't really gaming, or photography or whatever else I had going on. It was just the people and basketball. Definitely appreciate everyone I met and still talk to from the summer. I took a lot of walks, hiked, traveled a decent amount around here. I spent a lot of time alone man....and im cool with that. I never been by myself so much until I moved away from Ohio. I tapped into so much of myself just by being alone at the apartment, going to the gym late at night shooting around blasting music, spending nights at the office doing work, streaming when I didnt have internet. Its been such a weird but humbling experience. Im just on this bitch rambling but I dont care. Its just been awhile. Im like sitting in my chair typing this shit on my cracked MacBook hooked up to my monitor damn near about to cry because those days and nights I honestly thought I wasn't going to make it. Yes.....you read it right my g....I thought about it a lot. It doesn't help that im drinking while im typing. But anyways Im thankful for my students at my new job, the people I met, and everyone that deals with me back home. I could keep typing but I think this is a good part to leave at that. But this is just a small part of my year. A lot of experiences, a lot of emotions, a lot of loneliness, a lot of everything. Just dark and light. A lot of contrast or whatever?? I guess. Well fuck it, ill just finish it. One very important thing I learned this year is that it is okay for people to not like you. Its okay to cut close friendships off. I lost a decent a mount of people this year and Im not sad about it. I always thought people come and go anyways. Shitty way to think but its whatever to me. I was just really tired of people not realizing what the fuck was going on, people being stupid, im being thrown under the bus, people being hypocrites, etc. Very tiring. Lowkey tired of being the person to get dumped on but thats been going on for a VERY LONG time. Shit since high school. Definitely met someone just like me but me and her didnt last long which again is my fault but whatever. She lowkey understood me. Not being checked on sometimes can be a big “fuck you”. I noticed people only did such thing if I tweeted some super sus shit or I just stopped communicating lol. Mad annoying. I wish I talked to my oldest brother, my parents, and my grandfather more. Well I lowkey have a long list of people I could've talked more but ya know how shit goes when its been too long. I need to learn how to give people their flowers before its too late. This tequila is beating my ass lmao. This is lowkey refreshing but I know im all over the place. lol this shows you how much I express myself. Niggas know I hate talking. Never was like this. Im getting sleepy. Work in progress still. 

[crimeronan]

2020 in review

it’s been a weird year for me.

by all accounts, it Should be a bad year.  

lots of bad things happened to me this year.  i found places i adore in my new town - a certain cozy chair in the library, a corner table at a 24 hour coffee shop, a park bench in direct sunlight for most of the day - just in time to lose them all.  i started pursuing health answers in january, only for all the hospitals to close on my birthday, rendering answers impossible to find.

i waited months for the hospitals to open again, from home, unable to pursue any of the nightlife or queer meetups or community theater i’d vowed to get involved in.  eventually i found out i have scoliosis and a serious vitamin D deficiency.  i hoped to get better by treating these things.  instead the health problems continued, worsened.  i slept through most of may and november, i had intermittent weeks where i’d sleep for 20+ hours a day and be in too much pain to get out of bed upon waking.  i missed rent a few times.  borrowed money too many times.  relied on my loved ones way more than i’ve ever been comfortable with. (it’s the adam parrish ass in me.)

i developed a painful deformity in my leg.  spent stupid amounts of time in urgent care and the ER.  thought it was a dislocation due to connective tissue issues, but my x-rays came back clean.  so did an ultrasound for blood clots.  my doctor referred me to a dermatologist, who did a biopsy.  not super pleasant considering i faint when punctured with needles, but i’d already had my blood drawn and IVs stuck in me, so whatever.  found out i have an autoimmune disorder.  went from the most-perceived-as-able-bodied person in my house to the one most likely to get killed by the pandemic in the span of a single phone call.  might have a shortened lifespan, might not.  don’t know yet.  probably will know by the end of the year.

so it should be a bad year.  none of this was pleasant.  i’ve had spans of time where i’ve cried harder than i’ve ever cried in my life.  had to keep myself from calling my mom and telling her i needed her, because i knew she’d drop her job and her responsibilities and her plans to race across the whole-ass country, and i didn’t want to do that to her

but i don’t think it was a bad year.  not really.

it was my first full year living in the portland metro area.  which, don’t get me wrong, deserves some of the Cringe Hippie Liberal Anarchist Moron reputation it gets.  but it meant living in a city full of queer people and openly trans-friendly businesses.  it meant having enough healthcare providers near me that i could actively seek out ones who could treat my complex mental and physical health issues without some of the biases i’m used to.  it meant that i found an adequate psychiatrist within 10 minutes of me, an adequate primary care doctor within 20.

i used to live in rural new hampshire.  i drove 70 minutes to see my psychiatrist.  i never found a primary care doctor for physical health issues.  i would have had to go to boston, and i don’t like driving in downtown boston.  (masshole reputations are real and boston’s city planning is hell on earth.)

i also had the very strange experience of being taken seriously by every doctor i interacted with.  i am not used to this.  without getting too deep into it, i have been pretty badly scarred by experiences with having my autonomy violated because of my status as a psychotic individual, even though my fears were not psychosis-related.  also less scarring but equally off-putting experiences with being a perceived-as-woman individual whose pain was shrugged off by men as, like, normal hysterical woman agonies.  or whatever.

so, i had a leg deformity.  and doctors took me seriously.  because it was a visible, inexplicable symptom.  and because a lot of them looked at it and thought, oh fuck, this girl is dying.

(i could still be dying, i guess.  just a lot slower than they worried i was.  i’m not about to keel over from a blood clot or from my rotting bones decaying into my bloodstream.)

this has gone a long way toward alleviating my intrinsic fear of doctors.  being SICK is scary, sure, but it’s odd to be able to (cautiously) expect that doctors will try to help me instead of hurt me.

it was also my first full year living in an apartment of my own, with the family i chose.  my first full year of having my own space that i built.  my first full year of being independent, aside from the times i wasn’t.  my first full year of interacting exclusively with people who make me feel happy and loved instead of people who drain me.  and i felt better, mentally, than i have in a long time.

which is reflected in my creative work.  this was my most creative year in... ever, i think?  even though i was so sick and slept through so much of it.  even though the pandemic kept me from seeking out inspirational experiences.  i made a lot of fandom friends & got closer to friends i met last year.  i got a lot more confident in writing what i wanted to and talking about what i wanted to and not worrying about pleasing anyone but myself.

i published over 150k words of fanfic.  the vast majority of it was exploring feelings about chronic illness.  i outlined an original fiction project from beginning to end, added about 30k words to it.  i started fucking around with digital art a bit, although i have nothing even Remotely worth showing people.  i gained something like 900 tumblr followers from a combination of shitposting and earnestly talking about my feelings re: chronic illness, mental health, fictional meta.  i gave some ppl life advice that i guess was helpful.  apparently i inspired some people to survive the year, which is very weird to think about, but also very nice.

so, uh.  that’s my year i guess.  should be bad, but it wasn’t.  dunno how to conclude this so i will simply say:  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[carriecutforth]

The Shit

Tumblr is telling me to go ahead, put anything...so here it goes

I haven't been public about this for reasons that will be apparent but gonna start this with all the trigger warnings. I'm writing it here cause I can't talk to the majority of people about it cause most people can't even grasp, and then questions start, putting me in the situation of feeling like my GIANT SWEATER of trauma is being unraveled answering questions that lead to more questions and gah PLEASE DO NOT RETUMBL-- I just need to scream in the void This is the shit: On the day my sister-in-law's mother died she had to call form-1 my baby brother because his psychosis (undiagnosed mental illness which I will get to) was terrorizing their family (three small kids). My mother WHO IS SCHIZOPHRENIC had him released into her and my ANTI-VAXXER ANTI-MASKER narcissist father's care, but NOT before they found out, incidentally due to the FORM 1, he is ALSO really sick with leukemia. I only found out because I decided to dip into the special folder for emails called MOM that I try to avoid reading as long as they can FOR REASONS. But I felt for some reason an urge to, and then I had to try to parse out what had happened from her ramblings that are A LOT. Then I had to confirm with my poor sil who is at her wits end and was in no position to tell me herself. My dad stopped talking to me back in November when I called him for his anti-vax rhetoric as being EUGENICS when he told me it is just the flu and only killing old people and the disabled. I reminded him I've been immuno-compromised my whole life (he KNOWS this) and got chronic fatigue after a flu in late 2016 (he knows this), and did he not care if I DIED? (apparently not) But I was like lol, fine, don't talk to me anymore. Die mad about it for all I care. A lot of people are like: 'oh, that's tough, losing a relationship with your father' and I'm like YOLO (it really isn't if you knew him). SO THEN I have to reach out to my dad: "Why isn't my brother in the hospital being treated by medical professionals for YOU KNOW, HIS LEUKEMIA." My dad responded that the doctors were JUST GOING TO PUMP HIM FULL OF DRUGS! And that HE is treating my brother's leukemia with I dunno baking soda (he told me before it is a cure for cancer). THEN HE GOES RADIO SILENT. I have no idea where my brother is cause they got him an apartment somewhere in Toronto. *though I do have a Machiavellian plan to try to find out. The reason my brother has untreated psychosis is that even though I've begged my parents since he was a TEEN to get him diagnosed, they refused. It's like they have the opposite of Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy in that their ABLEISM is soooo bad they refuse to see he has been very sick, and even if he was really sick, 'doctors are stupid' <--quoting my dad. This is the backstory. My dad was always on the road for his job. My mom had my baby brother AGAINST all wishes of her doctor to ever get pregnant again. I'm not talking aborting, she got PREGNANT on purpose again to SERVE GOD'S GREATER PURPOSE even though it might kill her and said future fetus. So he was born with a lot of issues because of the very bad pregnancy's complications on TOP of the very hereditary bipolar/schizophrenia, AND everything else we got going on besides. After he was born, my mom went into a very deep depression for years and then would vacillate between that and mania. Which meant me: THE ELEVEN year old was forced to raise a baby that wasn't hers and had no ultimate authority over. I was called by everyone his *BROTHER'S NAME* SECOND MOM. *More on this later Our relationship is very strained because of this, particularly when at 17 I had enough momming a child while being constantly undermined by my parents absolute shenanigans. So there was resentment when I quit being his 'second mom' and that he equally resented for things like, trying to put him into bed, when my mom would come in and say let him stay up all night or getting him to eat something other than candy for breakfast (you can guess the dynamic with my parents here). Even if my disabled ass could sue my parents for his

care, he doesn't WANT me to be in charge of his care.

And yet still, I tried to advocate for him for years fighting my parents TOOTH and NAIL to get him on disability and out from underneath their thumb so he could have a measure of independence and autonomy. They had every excuse in the book not to get him diagnosed including expense. It was so goddamned awful fighting with them on this cause in their mind: he was going to live with either them or me forever (they decided this for me and my ex-husband and kids with no consultation), so WHY bother set up his future for him??? So when he was 20?, I hatched a Machiavellian PLAN: I got him, against my parent's wishes, into college for the sole reason of getting the resources for him to get diagnosed so that he could get on disability. AND IT WORKED! (kinda) Except my parents twisted him so much into only talking about his autism spectrum symptoms and NONE of the psychosis because their ableism is sooooo entrenched. (but I did manage to get him on ODSP). And subsequent times I forced my dad to take him to a psychiatrist, he's like: 'oh, I forgot to talk about the psychosis we just talked about the aspergers. Besides people with psychosis are untreatable, you can't convince them otherwise' (see again, my mom). Over the years, I have begged my dad to take my brother to get properly diagnosed and treated (I'm not meaning forced, my brother is also agoraphobic, and won't leave his place UNLESS he is driven by my dad and was living in a city far away from me). I said, I was very concerned for his kids but my dad always gaslights me (and tells everyone I'm crazy -- the IRONY). So now my mom is writing me emails about how this is all my sil's fault because 'she is on drugs' (she is not), 'she is sleeping around' (she is not), 'her kids are scared of her not my brother' (it's the exact opposite). WHICH IS A HUGE TRIGGER FOR ME because She did the exact same thing to ME with my other brother (a diagnosed PSYCHOPATH) who used to beat me and the rest of us mercilessly when my parents weren't around (and they never believed me, and told everyone not to believe me because I was crazy), who pulled a KNIFE on me and threw a drawer at me when I was NINE MONTHS PREGNANT, and how absolutely awful I was AS HIS SISTER to kick him out of my house with no place to live or go (cause he was living with me and my ex-husband at the time because THEY KICKED HIM OUT OF THEIR PLACE and didn't want him back.) Are you beginning to get a sense of the dynamic of my family? Soooooooo the last few weeks my brain has just been in total trauma mode going processing, processing, processing, processing as the final total realization of how absolutely awful my family is finally laid bare (I mean I knew but at least I can stop feeling guilty about cutting them out of my life). So back to the 'second mom' shit, as relevant to my trauma brain processing the last few weeks. This whole shit above is just the tip of the iceberg. I was raised as a Joho in which a lot of my trauma comes from a pedophile left loose on three generations of girls in my family over a thirty year period, and if anyone came forward they were threatened with disfellowshipment and there is SO MUCH there it would take me several Tolkien novels to get how absolutely awful, extensive it was, and how the coverup went straight to the top. ANYHOO. So who was calling me my brother's 'second mom???' Well since, I wasn't allowed to have any association with non-witnesses, it was my congregation. No one questioned that I was being parentified and it was a deeply abusive situation. NO WHAT HAPPENED instead was, this sister in the congregation told everyone (when I was fifteen and 80 pounds soaking wet at the height of 5'10 1/2) that my brother WAS REALLY MY CHILD cause it was so obvious the way that I was the one who took care of him. And the elders of our congregation MARKED me as bad association for loose morals for having a supposed child out of wedlock when I was ELEVEN YEARS OLD. AND NO ONE in my congregation would talk to me, and I had NO IDEA why, cause they never told me that I HAD BEEN

MARKED. But the caveat was I was not allowed to talk to people outside of the faith. And we only found out about this a year an a half later when she said the same shit back in my hometown where he was born to a sister who was at the hospital where my brother was born. AND NO ONE thought, hey: maybe if we think she had a baby when she was eleven we should um CALL CHILD SERVICES or some shit? So i was like 16 1/2, not allowed to have any friends OUTSIDE OF MY PARENTS, find out THIS SHIT, and then people wonder why I had my first manic episode at 17??? Yeah, so this is where my brain has been stuck the last month, complicated that I knew I would be at risk for hypomania with things opening back up, and I'm supposed to be shooting a pilot for a potential series I'm the creator/co-shorunner of, so now I've had to go BACK on seroquel and it's the worst while i try to acclimatize myself to the drugs and stave off hypomania at the same time. WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!

[pinkysfaultorbrainsfault]

pinky and the brain: s1e7 - tv or not tv

y’all do NOT understand how many times i have tried to post this. tumblr just will not stop eating it. this was supposed to be out last wednesday LMAO i am doing my best.

episode summary: brain engineers a pair of Mouse Dentures that give him a charming smile. anyone hypnotised by these dentures Suddenly Adores Him For No Good Reason. unfortunately, he’s also a bit of a shut in, so nobody is actually going to see his charming smile-- unless he gets himself a sitcom.

....or something.

the rundown:

we open on brain talking about the “weird and magical power” of celebrity. he has defaced several women, and is sticking his ass out. as you do. what is he doing to CINDY! and her ilk?? he must be stopped.

“those who have it weild tremendous influence. few can avoid the enchantment of its’ spell.”

“do you know what gives them this power?”

holy shit. he just stabbed CINDY!.

pinky absolutely does not care for CINDY!’s fate. “haha. narf. hey, paddlefoot, do you know what they call a quarter pounder in france?”

of course, sirius black was not in pulp fiction, and neither, as far as i can tell, was he in france. brain silences him with “enough gay banter”, like he wasn’t just sticking his ass out in his general direction, like, two minutes ago.

(this was the 90s, y’all. gay definitely meant gay back then. this is not the faraway tree.)

“pinky! behold the key to the power of attraction!”

“pushpins!”

“hurraaaaaaaaaaaah!”

“no, pinky.”

apparently the key to attraction is a

“winning smile”, as brain points out, tapping on CINDY!’s poor mutilated face for emphasis.

“and a nice healthy gum!”

“and... a nice healthy gum.”

it turns out that brain has “taken this idea of the influential smile to a new level - a level no less than world domination“, which is bold words for Mr Tumble Dryer. to achieve this, he has invented

teeth.

(okay. so it’s a bit bigger than that. he shows pinky the plans for,

and then a prototype of, a whole machine built specifically to engineer him little mousie dentures. a lot of work went into this one. shame, really.

“when did you have time to build that?”

“while you were engrossed in your mr belvedere reruns.”

“oh, i miss him. ):” )

anyway so. brain puts his teeth in.

there he is.

pinky describes this as

“enchanting (’:”

and brain affirms that it’s supposed to be. apparently the “reflective vibrations” (okay) of his smile stimulates the medula oblongata,

“causing the viewer to adore me for no good reason!”

“zort! i’m adoring you for no good reason!”

(he does point out, while brain is admiring his reflection in a nearby bunsen burner, “what if they’re wearing sunglasses?”

brain’s response is “we’ll work nights.”)

still, brain can’t just sit around in the lab twiddling his thumbs and expect the general public to Adore Him For No Reason. he needs exposure! and as pinky ponders “what would mr belvedere do,” brain asserts that he would “eat some butter”.

“i’m afraid, my friend, that you’ve seen far too much of mr belvede--”

more like mr belvIDEA lol. sorry i’ll see myself out.

“pinky, are you pondering what i’m pondering?”

“i think so, brain, bur it’s a miracle that this one grew back. ):”

.....okay.

thankfully, the plan is not, in fact, to amputate pinky’s leg. again???? instead, brain intends to use a weapon of “great stealth, power, and corruption.”

OUR OWN SITCOM.

✨

meanwhile, at the wb studio, we meet jerry kilmer. mr kilmer is currently being harassed by some dudes who also really, really want their own sitcom. for far less nefarious purposes, presumably.

“so there’s this guy, right?”

“and get this! he designs--”

“BIKINIS.”

“TINY LITTLE BIKINIS. OKAY okay okay okay so here’s the hook.”

“HE’S PRETENDING--”

“TO BE BLIND.”

it does not appear to be what mr kilmer is looking for.

(meanwhile, the mice are spying on the acme labs janitor. he seems like a cool dude! but the mice are not here for friendship.

they sneak into his jacket pocket!

and...... steal his.... car keys? “YES. to the television station!”

✨

this isn’t even the first vehicle he’s stolen. hopefully he’ll have this one back by curfew as well.)

they do get pulled over by the police, but i don’t want to go into that. unless you guys reaaaallly want me to. instead, they park outside the studio and harass some poor receptionist.

“excuse me. we’re here to-- pitch. as they say. a sitcóm. my dear.”

i don’t know why brain says words like that.

“appointment?”

“oh, i’m sure you can--”

“work us in.” says brain. he is sticking his ass out for no reason. all the appeal is in his sparkly dentures, so.... there’s really no need for that, my dude.

✨

“you’re next! for no good reason!”

these dudes are still here. “wait!” yells our budding comedian, “wait! check out this idea. it’s about a guy!”

original.

“who always sticks his foot in his mouth!!”

clever. unfortunately, his demonstration goes wrong, and he ends up kicking mr kilmer in the face.

bonk.

gives him a nasty black eye to boot. ouch.

“ugh. can’t i ever just see someone normal?”

good thing these very normal individuals have just shown up, huh? nothing shady about these guys. “ugh, thank goodness,” says mr kilmer. they introduce themselves politely as jonathan michael charles (left) and jamal spelling (right).

“you guys have quite a look.”

“thank you.”

✨

“alright then. what do you got for me?”

“egad, brain.”

“he’s not adoring you for no good reason!!”

“drat.”

“well. we’re young hip adults--”

“and hijinks ensue!”

“who sit on a big fat couch and whine--”

“with disaaaasterous results!!”

“and have lots of generation x friends who trade zippy, sarcastic banter.”

“and i have a monkey.”

a very original concept.

at least, mr kilmer sems to think so. “hmmm. fresh. but tell me! what really brings you here. what are jamal and jonathan all about.”

“actually,  we are two lab mice involved in a broad and sweeping plan to take over the world.”

mr kilmer thinks this is hilarious, apparently.

these guys do not. but they’re not important, for the moment.

the long and short of it, anyway, is that kilmer can’t give them a sitcom because nobody knows who they are, quote unquote. “the day i see your face on the cover of peeple magazine is the day you get a sitcom.”

irritated, jamal and jonathan make their exit.

and mr kilmer laughs so hard at the idea of lab mice trying to take over the world, that he falls out of his chair.

this will become relevant later.

meanwhile -- i just had to screencap this, okay, because of brain’s face. pinky suggests that he get on the cover of peeple by marrying prince charles. and brain thinks this is a horrible idea.

he’s much more interested in princess diana. but no, pinky, the path he must follow is “the same one followed by the leading sitcom stars of the day.”

“i must become a SUCCESSFUL STANDUP COMEDIAN.”

“so hey, how about those mitochondria? do they have enough cilia or what?”

“hey, why don’t you tell a joke you know!”

this may be harder than brain thought. undeterred, though, he presses on.

“do you ever notice how when you’re looking in the mirror of a quadrant electrometre, your forehead seems large?? why is that??”

“i just flew in from cleveland! and boy are my upper extremeties fatigued by a buildup of lactic acid!”

“booooooooooooooo!” says our guy on the left.

“go back to your troll village, squirt!” says his friend on the right. “what do you say to that?”

“i find you repugnant.”

(well. that made them laugh, at least.)

“your stupidity is matched only by the ill-slipped caterpillar, that chews off its’ own wings after emerging from its’ cucoon!!!”

“in fact! all of you! are just a gaggle of pathetically misguided root diggers!!”

“why don’t you all stand under a stalactite and bellow the resonate frequency, causing it to plummet onto your cranium!!”

“you’re all repugnant i say!!! repugnant!!!”

and with that little mousie tantrum out of his system, brain trundles off to sulk.

pinky claps him on the way out.

“egad brain! narf! they love you!”

“yes.”

so then he goes on tv, i guess.

“our comedy challenger is the master of insults! the prince of putdowns! jamal spelling!”

“you’re all a bunch of crevulating nitwits with peat moss for a cortex. repugnant!”

i don’t envy that guy third from the right. he doesn’t look like he’s having a very good time. he’s sensitive about his peat moss cranium, okay? don’t make fun of him.

NEXT ON G, HOWIE TURN HOSTS COMEDIAN JAMAL SPELLING.

“so, uh, jamal spelling. what kind of stupid name is that? cmon? what’s your real name?”

this would be racist if jamal spelling was a human man comedian and not like, a lab mouse. thankfully, this is not the case.

“my real name is the brain.” says brain, helpfully enunciating the “the”. “and you, my unwashed friend, are repugnant.”

HA HA. HA HA HA HA HA.

“oh, you’re hot, baby.”

okay.

but we’re, uh. we’re not going to think about that, and we’re going to go look at the david letterman show instead.

“uh, my next guest-- paul, do you know who our next guest is?”

“daaaaave, i know he’s a beautiful kind of-- nutty cat who just got us all a-wow.”

“here he is, ladies and gentlemen! for your comedy dollar, jamal spelling!!”

jamal spelling appears to be naked.

but he’s funny, so nobody minds.

“somebody here smells like a coagulated agar slant growing in a petri dish. repugnant!”

see! he’s just too comedy for clothes.

(meanwhile, we take a short trip to the office of janet mekko. “welcome, mr kilmer,” she says.

“my... secretary sent me here-- actually, i feel kind of stupid.”

“oh, honey. that’s a good thing! if there weren’t any stupid people, i wouldn’t have any business.”

“now. ya got some paaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiin.”

(in the distance, dan reynolds - at the tender age of eight - mumbles “you made me a, you made me a believer” in his sleep.)

“yeah.” says mr kilmer, completely unaware of this. “i fell out of my chair.”

“i’m gonna hypnotise you, so relax.”

okay.

“this’ll make you sleepy.”

“what is it?”

“a kenny g album.”

“okay. you’re in a trance. i’m gonna give you a random word. if you feel pain, say that word, you’ll feel good.”

“but careful! cause if you say it when you’re feeling good, the pain will come back! bad.”

spooky.

“and your random word is--”

“repugnant.”

there is, of course, absolutely no way this can go wrong.)

let us turn our view to happier pastures. namely, the mice are watching tv.

TONIGHT ON CIRCUS OF THE STARS

HARRY DEAN ANDERSON GETS SHOT OUT OF A GIANT PASTA MAKER

COMEDIAN JAMAL SPELLING FLIES THE TRAPEZE

AND BOB SAGET GETS TRAMPLED BY A BEAR. we hope.

pinky is elated! “egad, brain! circus of the stars! narf! you’ve really made it!”

pinky wants to be on circus of the stars, don’t you know. unfortunately, as he dutifully informs brain in pretty much the same breath, he hasn’t quite made it into peeple magazine yet.

“hm. it’s time to use plan b, pinky.”

“there was an a?? poit.”

ouch. jesus, pinky.

undeterred, brain marches his merry little ass over to the old timey corded phone.

beep.

“yes, connect me with buckinham palace, please.”

“egad! you did it brain! the cover of peeple!”

rule britannia is playing in the background of this scene. let’s... not think too hard about how this works, and agree that, yes, pauly shore, enough.

no more pauly shore, please.

conclusion:

jerry keeps his word, and, upon learning that jamal spelling is now legally married to princess diana (a fact which would certainly not lead to a warrant for his arrest in a couple of years) he asks him for a demo tape.

for such small hands, jamal sure does have very neat handwriting.

“make me laugh, jamal, and you got yourself a sitcom.”

“why don’t you all stand under a stalactite and bellow the resonate frequency, causing it to plummet onto your cranium!!”

he seems to like it! kilmer makes a little hee hee noise, unprepared for where this is undoubtedly going.

“you’re repungnant!”

“AAUGHGHGHHH.”

there it is.

“repugnant!”

“i say repugnant!”

repugnant repugnant repugnant repugnant

repugnant!

and with that, jerry kilmer falls out of the window.

as he does, he yells “i’ll get you, jamal spelling” which personally i think is unfair. jamal couldn’t have known, surely? don’t be mean to jamal. he’s got a lot on his mind, what with that restraining order against howie turn.

meanwhile, in the lab, the mice debate a good pitch for a pilot (i’ve got it, brain! it’s a show about nothing!) when jamal spelling gets a call.

“hi jamal! this is nina from the tv station. could you come down for a meeting?”

“mm hmmm.”

✨

it’s the WB.

as nina types away, jamal and jonathan enter casually, like this is their house, or something. “are you pleased to see us?” asks jamal, in a cocky, egomaniac labmouse sort of way.”

“yes i am!”

(nina somehow doesn’t notice.)

anyway then these guys find the dentures and pitch the first idea that comes into their heads.

“hey cortex! what do you wanna do tonight?”

don’t ask why mouse dentures fit a human man. we suspend our disbelief here.

(also there was no way this was brain’s fault. he couldn’t have known. outside influence it is. a shame, really.)

brain: 7 pinky: 7 outside influence: 14

thanks for the fun meme, @shuunthenonbeliever​ !

[talpup]

Summary: Yami Sukehiro just wanted to join the Magic Knights and make his mentor proud.  He knew there would be trails.  He knew trouble would come his way.  Knew he would be faced with discrimination for being a foreigner and a peasant.  What he didn’t know.  Didn’t expect.  Was that literal Chaos would come his way.  That he and his mentor’s sister would be at the center of world ending trouble.  Or that he would fall in love with his mentor’s sister and face more than discrimination; but the jealously of Nozel Silva who loved the same woman he did.

This chapter is a short one so I decided to do a double update this week. Mostly doing it because I wanna share the drama that happens in chapter76 and can't wait two more weeks to do it. lol

Please remember this fic is rated mature and has warnings of violence, abuse, sexual tension, eventual sexual behavior, and other possible triggers.  For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

Chapter 75

Yami woke up the following day wondering how he had gotten up to his bedroom.  He remembered waking up on the ground propped up against a tree, a crowd of Magic Knights still surrounding the training field. He had made his way to the nearest tap of ale and given the man tending the barrel a silver coin with the instruction to keep his mug topped off.  The alcohol hit him quicker than usual given his empty stomach.  It had probably hit him on the first pint he had upon arriving which was probably why had acted the way he had with Teris.

Teris... Yami groaned, sitting up in bed.  He had really messed up there.  He just hoped he hadn’t done anything else he’d regret.  Getting on Teris’ bad side was bad enough.

He had been drunk before.  And as long as he was left alone, he was a quiet, subdued drunk.  But if instigated, his temper was near instantaneous.

Gendry entered with a cup of coffee and large glass of water.  “Good. You’re finally up.  The Captain and Bronn are due back soon and I didn’t want to have to explain why you’re still in bed.”

Yami took the water first, downing the liquid messily.  “You the reason I made it here?”

Gendry gave a single nod, taking the glass and handing over the coffee. “You’re even heavier than you look.”

Yami rubbed his aching head knowing he’d be feeling worse if he hadn’t been brought in.  “Thanks.  I didn’t do anything stupid.  Did I?”

“You mean more stupid than attempting to challenge Bronn one on one?”

“I could’ve taken him.  Bastard deserves a good ass kicking.”  Yami set down the coffee and got out of bed.

Gendry stepped back near the small writing desk.  “You’re set to take his place.  How would it look to everyone who was there watching? You and he tearing into each other.”

“I would think most would be cheering me on, while the rest would be rooting for him.”  Yami said.  “Neither one of us have many friends.  And most of those friends are right old bastards themselves.”

Gendry raised a brow.  “You call me a right old bastard?”

Yami smirked.  “I said most.”

“And the Captain when he found out?  Cause you know he would’ve.”

Yami waved, noting Gendry hadn’t even bothered taking off his boots. “Jax would’ve been fine.  Eventually.  He knows better than anyone how much Bronn deserves a beat down.”

Gendry shook his head.  “Not by you.  Not like that.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway.”  Yami said, deciding to stay as he was until he got some food in him and had a bath.  “The other Vice Captain's talked Bronn out of agreeing.”

Gendry watched Yami scrub his face and neck clean at the wash basin.  “You sing when you’re drunk.”

“What’s that?”  Yami turned, water dripping from his face.

“You sing.  Not half badly either.”  Gendry said.

Yami wore a crooked half smile.  “What was I singing?”

Gendry shrugged.  “Couldn’t understand.”

Yami chuckled, drying off his face and hands.  “Thought you said it wasn’t half bad.”

“That’s not the reason I couldn’t understand.  You were singing in a different language.  I’m guessing it was your native tongue.” Gendry said, looking almost sad.

Yami looked away, trying to remember.  He couldn’t.

“Don’t know.”  Yami took his belt with its grimoire off the bedpost, and his katana off the chest of drawers; the only two things Gendry had removed.  “Thanks for seeing me to bed.  And for the water.  Gonna get me another glass along with some food and find Teris.  Got some apologizing to do.”

“You can do both at the same time.  She’s in the kitchens cleaning up from breakfast.”  Gendry told.

Yami’s eyebrows pulled together.  “It’s not her week for that.  Was Tobin sent out on another mission?”

“He’s still here.”  Gendry answered.  “But you think Tobin’s gonna remind her of his chores when she’s taken them over and shouted him out?”

Yami made a face.  “She’s still mad, huh?”

“Don’t know what you did but good luck fixing it.”

“I’ll fix it.”  Yami said, passing Gendry as he left his room.

75.1.2

Standing in the doorway of the kitchens watching Teris wash dishes, Yami teased.  “I think you missed a spot.”  When she didn’t respond he signed and made his way to her.  Placing his hands on her hips, he nuzzled her neck.  “Come on, Ikigai.”

“I already told about calling me things I don’t know the meaning of.” Teris snapped, trying and failing to focus on scrubbing the plate in her hands.

Yami smiled.  She had spoken to him.  The first hurdle was complete. “It’s nothing bad.  I promise.”

“I don’t care.  I still don’t know the meaning of it.”  Teris grumbled.

Yami stood there a moment, watching her take up another dirty dish to scrub.  Teris didn’t mind doing household chores, but she hated doing dishes.  Given that she was willfully doing them when it wasn’t her turn, Yami had thought it would’ve been harder to get her to acknowledge him.

“I’m not going to apologize for enjoying my birthday for once.”  Teris said, staring at the soapy water.

“Nor should you.”  Yami said, feeling stupid for letting William bait him into jealousy.

“You’re the one who echoed Julius and made me promise to act proper and do what was expected of me.”  Teris went on.

“I know.”  Yami nodded.

“Then why--”

Yami pressed his forehead against the back of her head.  “Cause I’m a stupid, ill-tempered ass.”

Teris turned to face him.  “No you’re not.  Not with me.”

Yami huffed ruefully and smirked down at her.  As hard as he tried to be better when it came to her, they both knew that wasn’t always the case.  “I’m sorry.”

As badly as Teris wanted to accept his apology and move passed it.  She had to know.  “I thought we trusted each other.”

Yami placed his hands on her bare shoulders.  “I do trust you.  I was stupid.  Upset because I can’t take you out like that.  I know you did nothing wrong.  I’m glad you finally had an enjoyable birthday.”

“I would’ve enjoyed it more if you’d been there.”  Teris said, smiling shyly up at him.

Yami grinned at her.  “We’ll go together soon enough. Promise.  Till then,” he leered over her, placing his hands on the counter-top on either side of her, “I still have a belated gift to give you.”

“Stop it.”  Teris laughed, reaching back to grab a soapy rag.

As she turned to do so the light hit her bare shoulder and he caught a glimpse a yellowish, light purple bruise.

“Hold up.”  Yami said, his tone making Teris stop and wonder what was wrong.

Now that he was looking, Yami noted bruises on her other shoulder too. His hands lifted hovering over Teris’ shoulders lining his fingers over each mark.  He sucked in a breath.  A fire raged in his chest, much different than the heated rush he’d felt moments ago at the thought of kissing her.  Only seven circular discolorations could be made out; but there was no doubting that she had been grabbed roughly.  The light, ugly color of the bruises told him that they had likely been made two or three days ago.  He remembered what William said last night, that Nozel had pulled Teris into a room and locked her away with him.

“I’m gonna kill him.”  Yami swore his voice dangerously quiet.  He turned and made for the kitchens exterior exit.

“Yami! Wait!”  Teris rushed after him reaching out and grabbing his arm.

Yami didn’t pull away from her but didn’t stop his steps either.  Teris was forced to cloak herself in mana least she lose her hold on him.

“Yami. Please!  Stop.”

Yami turned back to look at her, surprised to see her using her magic to keep him there.  “Does his life mean that much to you?”

“Yours does.  Your future as a Magic Knight means that much to me.” Teris’ hold relaxed a bit now that he stopped but she still didn’t let go of him.

Yami stared down at her, taking in her pleading look of concern.

Stepping to him Teris reminded.  “A few days ago you asked me not to do anything that would jeopardize our being together here and now.  I’m asking you to do the same.  Please, don’t do anything that might see you taken away from me.”

Yami didn’t tell her that there was nothing in this world that could keep him from her.  That he would fight.  Kill.  Lay waste and destroy this kingdom and all the others to stay by her side.  His muscles and voice trembled with barely restrained fury.  “Royal bastard hurt you.”

“Who do you think you’re with?  You think I can’t take care of myself?”

Yami stepped to her.  “I didn’t say that.”

Teris shook her head in annoyance.  “I swear you and Julius!  At least he had the excuse of me wearing a dress at the time.”

“What does stupid clothes have to do with this?”  Yami asked.

“Nothing.” Teris sighed, thinking about how much weaker and needy she felt in a gown.

“So Julius knows Bird Braid did this?  That he hurt you.”  Yami questioned.

“He didn’t hurt me.”  Teris stressed.

Yami stared back at her having none of it.  “Then who gave those bruises?”

“It’s fine.”  Teris assured. “Over with.  Handled.  There was a misunderstanding which Nozel had a bit of an overreaction about.  He apologized. Profusely.”

Yami realized he wasn’t going to convince her that a simple apology, no matter how earnest, wasn’t good enough.  Not when she’d been hurt.  Not when the markings of Nozel’s hands were staring him in the face.

Yami took a breath forcing himself to relax.  “What was the Little Bird so upset about anyway?”

“He thought Mereoleona had told me about the birthday surprise to Racine that he had planned.  He went through a lot of effort to make it happen.  His father and my brother apparently requiring much convincing to give up the stuffy dinner and ball that’s always put on.”  Teris finally released her hold on his arm, confidant he wouldn’t take off in search of Nozel.

Yami looked at her.  She might have been telling the truth as she knew but he was sure Nozel would never get upset enough to harm her over such a misunderstanding.  There was another reason, a reason she didn’t know, that had caused the royal lose himself and react in such a way.

Yami took another deep breath, tamping down his anger.  He had waited months to teach Nozel a lesson for kissing her.  While he wouldn’t wait that long this time, he could force himself to hold off for the moment for Teris’ sake.

He took a step toward the sink, nudging her along in ahead of him. Hands resting to either side of her on the counter-top, Yami leered over her.  “Want me to help with the rest of the dishes?  All it’ll cost you is a kiss.”

75.2

“Again.” Fuegoleon demanded, out of breath and drenched with sweat.

“You’re tired and lagging.  I’ll end up sending you to the healers.” Nozel told.

“And since when have you had a problem with that?”  Fuegoleon asked, his stance ready for Nozel’s attack,

Mereoleona had gotten after him during the Crimson Lions squad practice this morning.  His Captain pointing out his lacking in defensive ability as only an older sister could. It was why Fuegoleon had asked Nozel to help him during their scheduled training session.

Nozel had been all too happy to agree knowing he could attack and Fuegoleon wouldn’t directly attack back.  But now the Silver Eagle was slowing his strikes. Using less powerful spells as if worried he would substantially hurt his friendly rival.

It only served to make Fuegoleon angry and more determined.  “Again.”

Nozel sighed.  “Fine.  But don’t blame me when you’re laid up for the rest of the day--”

“Silva!”

Nozel and Fuegoleon turned.

Yami entered the training yard, his anger flaring upon seeing the royal. It didn’t help his temper that he had first gone to the Silver Eagles base only to be told Nozel was at Magic Knights Headquarters training.  That had left Yami searching the many training yards at Headquarters to find the man.

Yami hadn’t lied to Teris about his plans when he had left the Black Bulls base.  He had stopped at the city of Aster to the few things he said he was going out for.

Fuegoleon watched Yami pass him without a glace and stop in front of Nozel.

The Black Bull reached for the Silver Eagle only to have Nozel blocked his hand.

“You won’t be doing that ever again.”  Nozel growled, thinking of the dislocations the last time Yami had grabbed a hold of him  “You want to fight.  Fight like a gentleman.”

Yami glared at Nozel not sure if he could control his temper well enough for an actual fight.  “You talk of being a gentleman after you’ve laid hands on a lady like that.  I told you what would happen if you were stupid enough to do something like that again.”

“You kissed her again!”  Fuegoleon exclaimed, wondering when that happened.

Nozel spun to face the Vermillion.  “No!”

“He hurt her.”  Yami rumbled, never taking his eyes off Nozel.

The only reason Yami wasn’t tearing into the royal on sight was because Teris holding him back from immediately acting had given him time to think.  Nozel wouldn’t intentionally hurt Teris any more than he would.  That much Yami was certain.  Teris had mentioned some sort of misunderstanding; only Yami doubted it was the misunderstanding she believed it to be.  He would hear Nozel out.  Then he would kick the mans ass.

Fuegoleon’s mana roared to life.  Fiery eyes on Nozel, he demanded.  “You what!”

Nozel turned icy blue eyes on the Crimson Lion.  “It wasn’t like that. Teris is my Intended.”  His heard Yami’s katana slide a couple inches out of its sheath.  Keeping his eyes on Fuegoleon but other senses on Yami, he went on.  “Do you really think I would intentionally harm her?”  His almost commented how much Teris meant to him but stopped.  “I gripped her a bit too tightly when I thought—you know—she knew.”

“And that makes it alright?”  Fuegoleon questioned.

“No. It most certainly doesn’t make it alright.”  Nozel stated.  “You think I’m proud of myself?  That I haven’t beaten and berated myself over it?”

“I’ll beat you if it’ll make you feel better.”  Yami offered.  “I’ll beat you either way.”

Nozel turned on him.  “When were you going to tell me that my father tried to have you killed again?”

Yami glanced at Fuegoleon wondering when and how the Vermillion learned about all that.  Turning back to Nozel, he shrugged. “Didn’t realize I needed to tell you every time your Daddy tried to take care your problems for you.”

Ignoring the dig, Nozel fiercely stated.  “When it comes to this.  I need to know.”

“Why? What difference does it make?”  Yami asked.  “You weren’t able to do anything the last time.  How was I to know you weren’t aware this one was coming too?”

It struck Yami then what he should have put together sooner.  That if Nozel had been aware of his father's plans the Silver Eagle would have sent him word of warning.  As much as Nozel wanted him out of the way, preferably through his death, Yami knew Nozel was too honorable to stand by and let such an attempt be made if he had the time and chance to inform him.

“You just—you tell me.  Is that understood.”  Nozel told.

Yami smirked at him, wondering if the braid of silver hair hanging down the middle of Nozel’s face ever made the royal cross-eyed.  “You think you can give me orders?”

“I out rank you.”  Nozel reminded.

“Oh? So we’re going to make this official?  I’d like to see Greywright’s face when that order comes across his desk.”  Yami teased.

“Shut up.”  Nozel snapped.

“Why’d you do it?”  Yami asked.

Thinking Yami was referring to the latest attempt on his life, Nozel expelled, voice low and harsh.  “I told you!  I didn’t know!”

“Hurt Teris.” Yami clarified, finding Nozel’s heightened emotional state both grating and gratifying. “Why’d you hurt Teris? She said it was cause you thought this birthday surprise of yours was ruined, but I know you’d never lose control over something like that.  So what was it that set you off?”

“He foolishly thought my sister had told her about all this.” Fuegoleon answered for the Silva.

“About his father hiring people to kill me?”  Yami asked.

Fuegoleon nodded.

Yami looked at Nozel.  “Just how many people know your father's tried to have me killed?”

“I overheard my father and sister talking about it.”  Fuegoleon said. “I confronted Nozel the following morning.  Far as I know that’s it.”

“How many on your side know?”  Nozel questioned, knowing even if Yami wanted to keep it to himself, someone in his circle had to know.

Yami thought a moment before answering. “Three. Possibly four or five.”

“What!” Nozel exclaimed.

“What? Three on your side know.”  Yami shot back.  “I’m the victim here.”

“You are far from a victim.”  Nozel sneered.

Yami shrugged.  “Besides, it’s not like I told them.  Julius and Tobin were at the bar the first time.  Julius put it together easily enough.  He’s the one that told me it was likely your father.”

“Julius knows!”  Nozel felt wobbly, the world spinning too fast.

“Tobin might not pick up on most things all that well but he’s quick on the uptake when it comes to threats and other unsavory stuff. No one told him out right but I’m pretty sure he’s put it all together.  Especially after this last time and all that went on between Bronn and I after.”  Yami soured at the memory of the Vice Captain knocking him out and taking his money to Nathyn Silva in his stead.

Nozel’s eyes narrowed.  “Why?  What happened with this last time and after?”

“You don’t get to ask that.  I’m not playing your sick game where I tell you all the details of where, who, and how your father tried to have me killed.  And I’m certainly not telling you what went down after.”  Yami said, thinking no one needed to know how stupid he had been in his plan.

As much as Yami hated it, he owed Bronn for knocking him out and delivering the money to Lord Silva.  Actually, he didn’t owe Bronn since the Vice Captain had called them even for Yami having saved Bronn's life out on the battlefield.

“So Lord Julius.  And I’m guessing your Captain and Vice Captain know as well.”  Fuegoleon said, figuring Julius would have informed them for Yami’s safety after the first attempt.

Yami huffed.  “Yeah.  Julius told Jax and Jax told Bronn.  Bunch of gossiping hens.” He muttered, complaining.

Ignoring Yami’s disrespect, Fuegoleon said.  “So the three of them and possibly Tobin. You said there could be five on your side.  Who’s the fifth possibility? Julius’ Vice Captain?”

Yami hadn’t even considered that Jon might know.  Well, he thought, that made possibly six; nine counting the three Vermilion's.

Looking at Fuegoleon, Yami said.  “My guess.  Greywright.”

Nozel and Fuegoleon’s eyes widened.

“The Knights Commander knows?”  Nozel expressed, looking like a startled hare.

“Shut up.”  Yami snapped.  “I said it was a guess.  Mana, you got to calm down.  I can see why you lost control of you senses and gripped Teris so hard when you thought she knew.”

“Which is something that none of us want.”  Fuegoleon stated firmly, staring at Yami.

“Agreed.” Yami said, eyes trained on Nozel.  “Look, I came here to kick your ass for bruising Teris up.  But seeing how adamant she was I don’t do anything.  The reason why you did it.  And,” he looked the royal over, “the state you’re in.  I’ll let it go this once.  Just know that if there’s a next time, I won’t give a damn why you did it or what state your in.  I’ll end you without question.”

Nozel glared.  “There won’t be a next time but that has nothing to do with what you said or what you want.”

“Don’t care.  Just so long as it doesn’t happen again.”  Yami paused a moment, considered the matter over and said.  “If you really want to know.  I’ll send you message next time your father tries to have me killed.”

“Hopefully there won’t be a next time.”  Fuegoleon said.

Yami looked at the Vermillion with interest.  “How’s that?”

Fuegoleon glanced at Nozel before answering.  “That’s what I heard Leona and my Father talking about.  It sounds like my Father spoke to Lord Silva and told him something that would stay his hand.”

“Well that’s good news.”  Yami grinned.  “So Teris and I can do what we want as openly as we want.”

“No. No!  That’s not what that means.  You go doing that and--” Fuegoleon saw Yami’s amused expression and stopped.  His eyes narrowed with angry disapproval.  “You’re having fun at my expense.”

“It’s not like you can’t afford it.”  Yami chuckled at his own joke.

“Get out of here.”  Fuegoleon snipped.

“Gladly.” Yami grinned, amused at the royals temper.

Nozel watched Yami leave the training yard.  “I’m going to executed that foreigner someday.”

Fuegoleon’s eyes slid to the Silver Eagle.  “So long as it’s a proper execution carried out within the bounds of the law, I’ll take a front row seat.”

Thank you to those who have left hearts.  And a special THANK YOU to those who have recently left comments or re-blogged. They really mean a lot.

Next chapter snippet:

Yami turned, swallowing a stream of curses at the sight of Teris, Nozel, Fuegoleon, William, and Randall.  He quickly fished a coin from his money pouch and tossed it on the bar.  Getting to his feet, he told the man he’d been talking to something and made his way to his fellows.

“You’re earlier than expected.”  Yami said, stepping forward and backing them up through the narrow entryway.  “Let’s go.”

[runela9]

Alright, folks. This is gonna be a long post and I'm rather piqued, so if you're sensitive to drama or just dgf, I'd recommend skipping this one. 

If you're curious enough to read this, here's a quick backstory. User tinybed left a rude comment on a (genuinely funny) joke about positively recovering from mental illness. @dungeons-and-dragonborns replied basically saying "hey, maybe don't shit on people's coping mechanisms?"  tinybed immediately made an ass of themselves and tried to start a fight. Which they lost. Badly.

So I come in, see what looks like a kid starting drama because they misunderstand tumblr as a concept, and try to explain somethings to tinybed.  I summarized the thread, offered some real world comparisons for context, told them what they did wrong, and suggested they look back at their behavior with a clear head and reconsider acting like that. I'll add screenshots of the original thread in the comments

Apparently tinybed did not like this suggestion.  And apparently I was incorrect in assuming that they would either take my advice or ignore me, like literally anyone else would. Nope. They tried to start shit. 

Unfortunately, I ascribe to the philosophy of "do no harm, but take no shit."  So imma spill the tea.

@tinybed I tried to talk to you like a rational adult, but apparently you have the maturity level of a sixth grade girl, so let me try a language you might be able to understand.  You wanna go?  Let's fucking go.

Essay?  Bitch, that shit was five paragraphs. 316 words.  I could have fit it in three tweets.  If you think that constitutes an essay then your lexile score is lower than I thought.

You hid my reply and then screenshoted parts of it so you could vague about me. Well, guess what bitch? I noticed.

The advice I gave in my original comment was genuine; I do hope everyone with trauma heals from it and relaxing by doing things you enjoy is a great way to clear your head and get some perspective.

I'm also being completely genuine right now, when I advise you to go fuck yourself, in the ass, with a cactus.

And I didn't go to "cycle analysis school," whatever the hell that is. But I am a psychologist, you condescending little fuck. I mainly work in elementary special education, but fortunately I have enough experience with kindergarteners to know a tantrum throwing brat when I see one.

As for your cutesy hashing, you're right.  I'm not "completely normal."  I have a laundry list of neurodivergencies and mental illnesses. But at least I don't have Terminal Brain Rot or Insufferable Asshole Syndrome, like you apparently do.  But, whatever. Congratulations on cyberbullying an autistic woman on tumblr.

...or trying to, at least. Cause you couldn't even do that right.  Those little "memes" you made of me were so bad I actually felt sorry for you. For a second, before I remembered what a massive tool you are.  Honestly, it might have been less pathetic if you'd used a goddamn minion meme ripped from Facebook.

And a couple of shitty gifs with the same sentence on top?

These are deeply terrible, and you know it. That, or you know what a massive shitheel you're being. Why else would you disable the comments?  You knew you'd get criticism and your fragile little ego couldn't take it because you're a fucking coward and afraid of the consequences of your own stupid-ass behavior.

I physically couldn't give less shits about whether or not you want to shave your head.  That's a perfectly valid hairstyle and lots of people look great with no hair, regardless of gender.

No, I was actually referring to the bits where you said "...one of the most insane times of my life where i was least secure in myself" and where you compared people who call themselves sexy to "a chimpanzee begging for its life" immediately after calling yourself sexy.

Generally, functional people don't respond to innocuous comments with that level of vitriol unless they have some kind of personal trauma associated with it. So between your incomprehensible rage, irrational behavior, and that chimpanzee post, I just figured you had some issues with self image.

But I shouldn't have assumed, and I apologize for that. Clearly, you don't have any trauma, you're just a seething pustule of hatred, poorly masquerading as a human being.

Careful, that superiority complex you're using as a crutch won't support the weight of your immense self-esteem issues for much longer. Eventually you'll have to face yourself in the mirror, whether you broke it or not, and you're going to see a depressed chimpanzee looking back.