#there was WAYYYY too much TALKING

[in-ten-tion]

nahhh why did the last alice in borderland ep kinda piss me off 🤨

[kens-ramblings]

so ik it’s not cannon accurate but,,,

i need a fic of tim just crashing out.

like he gets so sick of like damian and jason talking about how weak he is and shit like that that he’s like “yall realize lady shiva was my one of my FIRST teachers, and i was the first robin she trained. i had to train under b AFTER he already lost a robin. you DONT think he was 10x harder on me than any of you guys???? there’s a reason my training videos are mainly redacted without bruce’s or my permission. i got ra’s al ghul BEGGING ME to join his league or have my children. i get gifts from him WEEKLY. do you KNOW how many of his little ninja i fight per DAY??? nahh im sick of this shit let’s take it to the mats” and just demolishing both of them at the same time.

i just think it’d be very funny. i just like fics of people who pretend to be weaker than they are(or they just never really have a reason to go full tilt so they just don’t) get sick of holding back and just losing it :D

[rawliverandgoronspice]

tbh oot ganondorf's stupid ass clothes are to me yet another argument in my grand thesis that he's basically just having the worst manic episode of his life with zero concrete plan to follow through with anything

[cottagewhores]

as a girl from texas, this is my roman empire

[24bughours]

Thinks about how a large chunk of Fiddleford's insanity is portrayed as him regressing into an unapologetically Southern farmhand

Thinks about how the town never bothered to notice the parts of him that mattered more, like his deep intelligence and suffering, because of how easy it was to assume he's just a crazy hillbilly

Thinks about how it took him returning to his previous "normal", the version of him that uses big words and fancy computers, for people to finally recognize him as a person with thoughts and ideas EVEN THOUGH HE CONSTANTLY BUILT IMPOSSIBLY COMPLEX ROBOTS BEFOREHAND

Thinks about how disgusting it is that society ingrains the idea that people with "lower intelligence" have no deep emotion/thoughts into us. Thinks about how Fiddleford evolved into one of the most nuanced characters in Gravity Falls despite the fact he was just supposed to be a one-off classist joke character. Thinks about how the origin of Fiddleford's character is a reflection of why it's so harmful for everyone involved to fall into these stereotypical lines of thought. Thinks abou

[raytorosaurus]

I hope it’s okay to ask you but you seem to know everything about MCR so you might know. But I read recently that they were the designated bbq band on their first Warped in 2004 so they had to cook for everyone. Have you ever heard of that being the case? It just feels like a weird thing, with Ray apparently being a hermit in the bus and Frank being vegetarian and Gerard being blackout the whole time. I can’t imagine Mikey or Matt Pelissier holding down the fort.

haha yeah apparently so! warped tour was designed to be as efficient to run as possible because its primary purpose was to book up-and-coming bands and put them out there. it had a lot of weird components as a result - e.g. the sheer number of bands and locations, cheap tickets and free tickets for parents, and a constantly changing lineup schedule so attendees couldn't plan their day in advance around specific artists (so the artists were on a more ~equal footing and to encourage ppl to show up when the gates opened and stay all day). it was also notoriously gruelling and uncomfortable for the bands - really demanding schedule, no showers, etc etc.

so one of the things it did (along with showcasing local acts at each location) was invite a "bbq band" to join the tour for free and play every day if they helped run the nightly bbq that fed all the musicians. according to this podcast (around 17 mins in, but the whole episode is a short and really interesting listen, i recommend it!), mcr were that band in 2004 (they were only on the first half of the tour tho, june 25-july 18,24). i'm not sure exactly what his source is but he seems to know his stuff, and i'm almost positive i've heard gerard refer to it in an interview at some stage, though i can't remember when 😭. anyway, that doesn't mean they fully ran the bbq and were the only staff - they were just helpers! warped had a catering company and served a truly enormous amount of food every day, and apparently the artist's bbq was something like 300 hot dogs, 300 burgers, and 100 veggie burgers a night (all from that podcast). mcr definitely wouldn't have been doing that on their own, they were probably just helping out hahaha.

anyway, this was all in 2004, when the lineup included thursday, the used, tbs, coheed and cambria, the bouncing souls, etc. so revenge had only been out for like a month and they didn't have their own bus yet - i'm like 80% sure they stayed on senses fail's bus that tour, but i can't remember which one of them said that or where haha (they definitely shared a bus directly afterwards as they toured back towards nj).

after that is when they went to japan, came back, fired otter, and filmed inok, and went back on tour with bob and face to face all in the space of 2 weeks. that tour is when their van finally broke down for good and they got on their first own tour bus at the end of it.

the more ~famous mcr warped tour is 2005, which is the one with fob etc. i haven't seen lotms in a while but i actually assumed the bit where ray said he'd been a total hermit in the back of the bus was from that 05 tour, because that's the one they had the bus studio where he spent a lot of time writing parade demos. either way, he might not have been partying and socialising a whole lot, but i'm sure he would've sown up to bbq duty anyway! it was their free ticket, after all.

[cherryapparition]

Bedtober Day 5: Cottagecore

Prompt list I'm following by OceanInSpace

[agentoffangirling]

Og AoS fan or someone who just does an unholy amount of research on the show

[temper-temper]

Any plans for little ones?

I’m not sure what else to say on that. Maybe we will announce it when it happens? Though best to wait a bit to announce… Yeaaah

[satoruxx]

hello hello everyone i have escaped finals season unscathed and finished up the semester :33 we also had to move out of our apartment which i finished doing today !!

i havent been here for like 2 weeks mb but im gonna try to go through my notifs and dash and maybe bother my moots a lil hehe

i hope everyone’s been good <33

[torawro]

that undead man andy…..had me biting my finger whole time bc why are you like this ??? why do you behave this way ?? why are you so cool? why is your dick not nestled deep in my guts?????? hello????

[syringa]

every time someone says the armory wars instead of the amory wars they owe claudio $5 btw

[selfspinninglies]

hi happy pride I wrote gays

word count: 2765 [<- what possessed me to write this much how did I do that]

tws/cws: implied/discussed murder, desecration of a body, not technically cannibalism but they do eat a person [<- not graphic]

notes: I wrote 2530 words of this in 2 days somehow . The oc hyperfixation is real . Also some of this might not make sense cause I still haven't wrote an experimental plot summary yet sooo oops . They're both so oblivious it makes me ill anyway enjoyy

1-2 shifts slightly on the couch. Its not the most comfortable place to lay down, but he doesn't feel like getting up and into bed (or moving at all for that matter). His vessel feels like it's going to rip itself apart. He should've went hunting a few days ago, but he's gotten inconsistent. And now this was a result. He buries his face in the throw pillow next to him. Stupid rapidly deteriorating body.

After a few minutes of nothing he feels a nudge on his foot.

"Scoot. You're taking up the whole couch laying like that."

1-3 is the owner of the complaint. He didn't even have to look to know it was them. It was the only person who made sense, since the two lived together and he would've heard the door. Its not like they get visitors anyway.

He sighs in an exaggerated fashion, unclear if this actually bothers him or not, moves over a little and tucks his knees in to make room. He would've been more bitchy about it if he wasn't exhausted and if the only other place to sit in the apartment wasn't a mattress.

1-3 rolls their eyes at his antics. They glance at him for a moment. "You look like shit." They say flatly.

He makes a small angry noise in response, not feeling like using regular words. He looks up. Surprising nobody, 1-3 also looks like shit. Neither of them ever look that great, but apparently he looked bad enough to warrant a comment.

Was it concern? It was always hard to tell with them. Their face didn't change that much. Or maybe it was clear as day and 1-2 was just terrible at reading people.

He sits up into a horribly slouched position, one arm looped around the armrest and the other dangling oddly. He gives a glance to 1-3, who is watching him carefully. They probably know what's coming. They can see the rivulets of cracks piercing his shell. The two go through this weird routine often.

He exhales sharply, opening his mouth and willing the words in his brain to crawl out and onto his tounge. A few seconds of nothing. Yep. Not happening.

Grabbing 1-3's hand, he lifts it and turns it carefully, examining the similar darkness enveloping their fingertips. He listens and feels for a flinch or glare or hitch of breath, which usually indicates that they aren't in the mood for his antics, but he catches nothing. In fact, they're barely looking, head turned the other way, pupils facing him.

They've only been living together for a few months or so and they're so used to each other. It makes him feel weird.

He moves 1-3's hand up to his mouth bites down. He must have done it too hard, since he hears a quiet "shit" from 1-3. They take their hand from his and turn to face him. "I'd prefer if you asked next time." They say, a little sharply, though they never hold grudges over little things like this.

1-2 shakes his head and puts a smirk on his face, which earns a scoff from 1-3. They get up to leave anyway.

He tugs on their longsleeve, using it to pull himself up. They look confused for a second before an incredulous expression takes over and they shake their head.

"You are not coming with me. You cannot move well and don't have the energy for it. Sit."

1-2 rolls his eyes, but sits back down anyway. He knew that they were right, though he would rather explode right at that moment than admit that.

"Don't do anything stupid." They nod and give a half-hearted wave as they exit the [truthfully] cramped space. The door closes with a nice click.

He listens to 1-3's footfalls as they walk down the hall, as if he expected them to turn around and come back. He wasn't sure if he wanted that or not. Anything was better than sitting around and doing nothing, even if they usually didn't take long.

He gets bored and decides to heave himself to the bathroom. His feet drag against the floor and his posture sags. It doesn't particularly hurt, besides the dull aches where his vessel splits from neglect, it just feels like every ounce of energy has been stolen out of his strange hands.

After pulling himself up to the mirror, he examines himself. The cracks under his eyes look wide enough to stick a finger through it. He doesn't try. The thought of it makes him feel gross.

His hair is disheveled and overgrown. His bangs fall on his eyes slightly and stick in different directions, stuck there by natural grease and some brown stuff that's probably blood. It isn't his. He doesn't have any. The last time he went hunting was a few weeks ago. Had it really been that long since he showered? Fuck, he was gross.

He laughs. Its a weird, crackly sound, but it's rare so he lets it escape his throat. Nobody was here to listen to it. 1-3 really was right, he absolutely looked like shit.

He slinks back to the couch and passes out as soon as he hits the cushions.

------‐--------------------------------------------------------------

1-3 sighs, slumping against the wall of an alley. The world is humid and oppressive, or maybe that's the blood soaked into most of them talking, a mix of their's, One's, and the body on the pavement's.

The unexpected run-in made this outing take longer than it usually would have. They don't have anything to tell the time on them, so they can only guess, but it's likely been around an hour. God, why did they have to see One when they were in a hurry?

They shake their head. The body. They have to take care of that. They didn't want to. It was the last thing they wanted to do. Just don't think about it. Don't think about anything, just grab the knife-

It takes longer than they would like to put themself into the thoughtless haze that helps with the process. This isn't a person, it is a creature, this is necessary, if not for you then for Two. Remember what he looked like? Shit, that's what you said.

Swish thud swish thud swish thud swish thud swish- over and over again.

There's even more blood now. Less of it belonging to them. It's on the wall, the floor, in the air, in their vessel, in their soul, eating them alive. It's disgusting. If they had insides they would have thrown them up by now. The world smells and tastes and feels of viscera, it's made of it.

The meat is in neat pieces now. The knife is put into a pocket. The bones and unnecessary bits will be left there to be picked off by something that can use it. They gather the pieces they cut into a bag and stand, swaying like they were trying to be pulled in different directions by the universe.

They take their sweater off and tie it around their waist to get some of the flesh off of them, unveiling a slightly oversized white t-shirt. It's cold, but they'd rather deal with that then the feeling of your clothes being soaked with remnants and wafting into your nose and tounge.

They shuffle through the bag and take a piece between their fingers. Don't think about it, just eat it, you have to-

The only taste that registers is the sharp, metallic tang of blood. They swallow it quickly. It always makes them feel sick, the texture, smell, taste, and the weight of taking a life. But they have to. It's the only way.

Fuck, they hate it all.

Taking a breath, they steel themself and begin walking down the street and back to the building. They aren't worried about being spotted, nobody is ever here. The silence presses itself into their body. Bricks in walls are staring at them, singing, guilty, guilty.

The walk is short, as horrid as it is. The apartment is close to many places. It's convenient for hunting. The bag swings awkwardly in their needlessly tight grip.

They knock on the door in their usual pattern, opening it and walking inside. They set the bag on the counter like it's groceries.

"Two. I'm home." They announce, though the noise of the door opening and rustling of the bag should have alerted him. Strange. Knowing him, he's probably long passed out. Still, they look over the couch to check.

Exactly like they thought. He's sprawled out awkwardly on the couch (he'll probably be sore if he stays like that) out cold. He always slept like this, which made it especially annoying to share the mattress with him. They still let him, though. It always feels weird now when he isn't there.

"Two." They say again, walking over to him and poking his face. "C'mon. Hey, wake up." This probably won't work. 1-2 is an obnoxiously heavy sleeper.

Surprisingly, they see 1-2's eyes flicker open.

------‐--------------------------------------------------------------

1-2 stirs, feeling fingers tap against his cheek. Ones that kind of look like his, with the way they sharpen into claws and darken at the ends. It's 1-3. Right. They left. They're back. What time was it?

He inhales and smells something weird. Quickly recognizing it as blood and probably a bit of sweat, he looks up at 1-3 questioningly. He points a finger at them and starts talking, voice still groggy from sleep.

"Blood. 'Sit yours?"

1-3 shrugs, making a so-so motion with their hand. "Some of it is, some of it isn't." Their voice is oddly nonchalant.

"What happened?" He asks, sitting against the cushions.

"Had a run in with One. I'll tell you later."

1-2 just nods. As long as he finds out eventually, he doesn't care when. He's also curious as to what 1-1 was doing anyways. The last time anyone saw her was in the lab, before all of them were released.

1-3 sits next to him again and crosses their legs, hands in their lap. He doesn't know how they sit like that, it doesn't look comfortable in the slightest.

He fiddles with his hair awkwardly. He really needed to do something with it. He remembers his reflection in the mirror. Too long. He puts a strand between his fingers and continues to twist it.

1-3 seems to notice. "Do you want me to cut it for you?" They ask.

"You can cut hair?"

"I've done it before. Did my own." They gesture to their own hair.

1-2 examines it for a second, leaning forward a bit. It looks pretty good, actually. He doesn't know if he trusts them to do it, his always picky about his hair. It's not like he can go and get it cut, though, with how he looks.

He nods, moving his gaze to 1-3's eyes. Their face is a little red. Oh. Right. Their faces were still only separated by a few inches. He leans back and speaks again. "Fine. Just be careful. If you fuck it up I get to fuck up yours." He pokes the air near 1-3 to make his point.

Something he didn't expect at all happens. 1-3 laughs. Really laughs. At a stupid threat that really isn't one.

What.

"Alright, I won't fuck it up." They reply.

The smile lingers on their face a little. Their laugh is also crackly and weird and nonhuman like his. What. They never laugh at his dumb jokes. They must be tired. Or they hit their head. He stares at their expression for way too long.

They interrupt the developing silence. "I'll cut your hair after you eat. I went out." They lean their head towards the counter. He follows their line of sight and sees a plastic black back placed there. "Thanks." He says quickly, before he forgets.

Its weird how they just. Do that. For him. They both dance around talking about it, for obvious reasons, but in his head he knows what they mean by "went out". They killed someone. For him. So he didn't sit here and rot.

He stops himself from thinking about it and walks over to the counter. He takes a few pieces and forces it down his throat. It tastes bad, it always does, but he's pretty used to it. It's easier to just get it over with. Not like he really has a choice in it. Could be worse. 1-3 hates it much more than he does.

------‐--------------------------------------------------------------

They're in the bedroom now, 1-3 sitting on the mattress and 1-2 on the floor directly below them. They hold a pair of thin scissors in their hand. It's not the right kind, but it'll work.

1-2 told them what they wanted earlier, and while they weren't a professional in the slightest, it would be easy. And he didn't need to know that, anyway.

God, they were close. It wasn't uncomfortable, but for some reason their brain latched onto their proximity and didn't let go. Like earlier, when 1-2 looked them in the eyes and moved towards them.

Do NOT think about his face right now just cut his hair it's what he asked of you- They hold some of his hair in their hand and begin cutting. The satisfying snip snip snip of the scissors echoes around the space as hair flutters to the carpeted floor.

It doesn't take long for them to finish. There wasn't much to do. They look at their work for a bit just to see if there's anything they need to fix in the back. They move to sit infront of 1-2 and look at the front, hands brushing against his forehead to adjust the strands slightly before giving a curt nod and leaning back. It's his turn to redden.

They push any thoughts related to 1-2's face [for the second time] and the contact they just made with him to the back of their mind.

1-2 gets up and goes to the bathroom quickly to look at what they did. He comes back after a short moment, taking his place on the floor again. He nods back. "Your hair's safe from me." He says, which is his way of giving them a compliment.

1-3 goes to sit next to him instead of infront so its less awkward. They both bathe in the sound of absolutely nothing. They do this a lot, simply sit in the same space. It was kind of nice. Better than being alone.

"You're tired." 1-2 says, now eyeing them carefully. They hate how easily he can read them most of the time. "As are you. I was only gone for an hour or so and you passed out waiting."

"Touché."

"Well," 1-2 says, standing. "We might as well sleep now, then. Neither of us have plans."

They nod and crawl into bed after him. They don't feel like denying it today. He needs the rest and so do they.

They sleep on opposite sides of the bed, though they're still close do to the size of it. They also share a blanket, which 1-3 often has to steal back from 1-2. He has a habit of taking it all in his sleep. God, they already know his sleeping habits and it's only been a few months.

He falls asleep quickly [he always does, he's always tired] but 1-3 takes a bit longer. More thoughts than usual bubble to the surface of their head and spill over. Some involve blood and the experiments and slicing, which always makes it hard to sleep, but a select few involve him.

They want to get closer, so, so badly for no reason at all. The thought of it sounds nice. It rings like gentle bells. When was the last time they were close to someone who they weren't trying to kill?

After a contemplative silence, they shift towards him and wrap their arms around him. They think this is selfish, they don't even know if he'd like it, if he'd feel the same, but they let themself have this. If he asks they'll say that it just happened in their sleep. He wont believe it, since they never move much in their sleep, but it will probably get him to not ask.

It feels nice, like they thought, a pleasant warmth to it all. It's also a little awkward since they don't do this often, but it doesn't matter. The sounds of soft breathing fill the silence.

It doesn't take them long to fall asleep now.

[auriannaventiwithcaramel]

thinking about ethan green today, my favorite pathetic wet cat 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[baby-prophet]

do you think my roommate will rat me out about vaping in the bathroom .............

[lemon-grey]

Oh oh here’s my “hot take” since everyone else is doing it:

If you make a character/headcanon a character who is d/Deaf or HoH please just do like a shred of research first and recognize that not everyone has the exact same experience

and also your character doesn’t have to be completely 100% unable to hear because there are many many different types of hearing loss

and lip reading isn’t all that common or easy!