#this isn't my job but i need them to do this so i can do my job

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic idea: Rent-a-Scandal

Bruce's identity as Batman is outed on live TV. It was after Joker unmasked him, but thankfully, Clark was fast enough to throw on a spare Batsuit.

They managed to convince most of the public that Bruce had been working as a decoy to distract Joker so that "Batman" could find the rest of the hostages. Most.

There were those pecky few that saw right through their ruse. He needed to do another stunt that would install doubt that Ditzy Party Boy Bruce Wayne could never be Batman.

The thing was his usual antics weren't working. No amount of parties. No alcoholic induced stupidity. And not even multiple women hanging off his arm was making them move away from their observations. They were even catching on that all of those incidents were done on purpose.

He needed to do something fresh, something new, something that would completely overshadow the skeptics who were casting doubt on his facade.

But what?

"How about hiring someone to write up a scandal?" Jason recommended it over dinner. In front of him, he had a manuscript. For the first time, he was going to audition for the lead role in his school plan. Bruce just knows his Jaylad will blow the rest of the computation away. "You can have a writer who thinks you're trying to make some weird mystery party or something."

"It would never work. They would notice I used things I asked them to write as personal scandals. But thank you for the idea, Jaylad." Bruce beams at his son.

"Well...what if you hired someone trustworthy? Like Clark?" Jason counters, but Bruce is already shaking his head.

"Clark specializes in journalism, not public relationships. Besides, his full-time job doesn't give him time to type me up some scandal-"

"I have a guy," Alfred offers as he places an extra plate in front of Jason. At their bafflement, he gives them a secretive smile, much like the kind that would curve on a snake if it had the ability to do so. "He is trustworthy. I have his soul tied in a contact. He wouldn't be able to blab once I command it."

Jason slowly put down his fork. "I-

But Alfred was already moving away, waving a hand over his shoulder. "I'll ring the gent right now. He's your age, Master Bruce, which will mean you can make a new friend."

"Does he really have a soul?" Jason gasps as Alfred vanishes into the manor. Alfred's tiny face is white, which would have been hilarious if it was a white lie. The trouble is, Bruce isn't entirely sure Alfred is lying.

Not that he could tell Jay that. The poor thing was barely getting comfortable in the manor lately. If the boy thought the butler could steal souls, it was back to square one of earning his trust.

"No, no, no, Alfred was joking. He's likely calling someone he trusts-"

A boom bursts across the dining hall as a glowing green portal rips open and out steps a man close to Alfred's age in a purple coat. He's carrying a suitcase and has a typewriter tucked under his arm. A scarf is wrapped around his neck, where Bruce's eyes finally notice the odd grey tint to the man's skin.

He's obviously not human.

"Hello," the stranger sighs after running his green eyes around the room. My name is Ghostwriter, and Alfred Pennyworth commanded me to be your scandal writer. I brought along an assistant who will be playing the second part of all of the situations. This is Danny Phantom; he'll play your secret gay lover."

"Hi!" says a man around Bruce's age to the Ghostwriter's side, a little too cheerfully. He's not human either, as he's glowing like a lightbulb was placed under his skin. His hair was pure white, which also seemed to be glowing in a different shade, and his eyes were a color that was not humanly possible.

He also flouted while the writer stood in place. "Alfred owns my soul as well, but unlike Ghostwriter here, I didn't lose it to him in stripper poker."

"That man counts cards!" Ghostwriter snaps

Jason stood up from his seat, hands held up. "This a lot. I have a play to practice for. Figure it out, B."

His son grabs his manuscript, bows his head a little toward the guests, and scurries right out of the dining hall, leaving Bruce to his fate. Alfred pats Jason's head lovingly as he smiles and passes him through the door. "Oh good, you meet your ghostly pr and secret gay lover. We have a real show stopper with these two, Master Bruce."

You know, Bruce had a good run with the whole Batman thing. Maybe it was time to retire.

"Let's get down to business. What have you written so far, Ghostwriter.?" Inquires Alfred. He makes that satisfied snake smile when the writer glares at him with utter loathing before the man rolls his eyes and snaps his fingers.

In front of Bruce, a pile of papers appears covered in writing. He grabs them out of the air only because it floating dangerously close to his nose.

"I think the best course of action is to play up the fact that Bruce has a secret, then leak some photos of Danny in suggestive poses. You drop on in Wayne Tower's lobby after we allow the rumors to fester with paparazzi." The writer explains, waving his hand to his assistant, who seems too amused by what is being suggested.

"As Phantom or Fenton?" Danny asks to Bruce's confusion.

"Fenton. We want a scandal, not a diplomatic emergency." Ghostwriter scoffs.

Bruce's face screwed up. "What do you mean diplomatic emergency? How so?"

"Oh, I'm the Ghost King," Danny reveals casually as if those words meant anything to Bruce. "If word got back to the ghosts that I was fooling around with a human without the intent to make him my consort, well, things would get dicey."

Alfred's smile turned a tad bit darker. "We wouldn't want that."

Danny's face froze for a few seconds. He stared at Alfred with what could be considered terror and...attraction? He then smiled as softly as a flower. "No, we would not."

Ghostwriter flings himself into the chair next to Bruce. He grabs the meatloaf off of his plate with his bare hands, taking a bite with a sigh. "Don't worry, I've seen this story a thousand times. He may think Alfred is a silver fox, but by the end of it, Danny will be yours."

"What?"

[nothorses]

(cw: suicide mention, domestic abuse mention)

hey, you're in the teaching world, yeah?

do you mind if I ask how you decided to go into education, and how you're finding it as a job? I'm considering going into teaching (high school, English, which I think puts me a bit to the side of your specific area of expertise). but I'm thinking about the emotional toll of it. about having to balance legal bullshit like transphobic legislation and controlling bureaucracy with the respect and care that all students deserve but often don't get.

I'm also thinking about the stuff that scares me, the worst case scenarios of "what if one of my students kills themselves" or "what if I have to report domestic abuse, even if I know it'll make my student's life worse" and others along those lines.

how do you deal with that? how do any teachers? I'm gaining a new level of respect for the good teachers I've had throughout my life. this shit is so hard.

Honestly I'm going to answer your last question first because I think this is a really good question, and it's one I have a real answer for from personal experience! I will answer the rest under the cut, too.

"What if I have to report domestic abuse, even if I know it'll make my student's life worse?"

First, and most importantly: you should always be upfront with your students about your mandated reporter status. This is 100% within your rights to do, and it's important that they know you aren't able to keep secrets before they divulge any to you.

Typically, I like to frame this as: "I want you to know that I'm here for you, and I want to listen and help. I also cannot promise that everything you tell me will stay between us, especially if it's about your or someone else's safety." You don't need to announce this to the whole class all at once, but when students start to confide things to me, I make sure to tell them this so they can make an informed choice.

Second: If you know you need to make a report, talk to the student you are making the report on behalf of first. Giving them this warning can be invaluable, even if the report isn't going to be dangerous for them.

Third: you don't need to make the report right away! You need to make the report in a reasonable amount of time, but you can work with the student in question on this.

As an example: when a student confided in me and I knew I needed to make a report, I told them right away that I would have to report it, and had a conversation with them about it. We talked about whether they would be safe, and what would make them safer. We determined that while they weren't unsafe either way, they would feel better and have an overall easier experience if they could talk to their family about the situation first. I followed up with them about a week later, and when they confirmed that they'd been able to talk to their parents and it was okay to go ahead with the report, I told them when I would make the report, and then did so.

You should also be sure to mention in your report that you feel the student might be in greater danger if their family knows about the report. Give them as many details as you can: what kinds of things would endanger the student? What is the specific nature of that danger? If the person who acts on that report has these details, they might be able to adjust their follow-up and response accordingly to help protect the student as much as possible.

Alright, CPS stuff out of the way, I want to answer the rest of this as well. Thank you for the great question!

I decided to go into education because it's a thing I loved doing in some related jobs, and honestly, it just felt right for me.

I also ended up choosing not to go into classroom teaching specifically after my student teaching internship, because I felt that while I could be happy as a classroom teacher, it just wasn't really where I thought I'd be happiest. I didn't like the hours, I didn't like the expectation to police attendance, and I honestly had really enjoyed a lot of education-related work that wasn't classroom teaching a lot more.

I ended up getting my master's in education to expand my options, and I've landed in my dream job (except for the fact that it's part time.... for now. lol) which has been fantastic. I am also really glad I got my teaching certification regardless- it's made subbing a better option in terms of pay and just, like, the ability to work with public schools at all, and just about every single other grad from my master's program wishes they had gotten theirs for the same reason (and they're finding it really, really hard to do that post-graduation).

The emotional side is... well, honestly, it's definitely emotional work, but I find that really works both ways. I'm not one of those (incredibly special and admirable) teachers who would do and give anything just to work with their students, and I am definitely tired after work! But it's a good kind of tired, usually. I feel fulfilled. My work feels meaningful, and even when it's hard, it feels worth it; I never feel like I'm struggling for nothing, or for the benefit of someone who doesn't deserve it (like a CEO, or a shitty manager). I can't understate the value of that.

The part of the work that I think is dangerous isn't that it's emotionally involved-- it's burnout. It's being overworked and underappreciated for too long, and becoming emotionally detached because you have nothing left to give at all. And that is going to depend on your workplace, what they're demanding of you, and the support they do or do not give you.

The best defense for this, imo, is being picky and sticking up for yourself and your needs. Learn to identify the signs of burnout in yourself, and get the fuck out of there as soon as you can when you notice them. Do not hesitate. Burnout will make you hate your job, it'll make you feel like a bad teacher, it'll make you detach, and it can definitely cause you to lose the patience and compassion you need to be a good teacher for your students.

Also: do not ever give in to the teachers who bitch about their students. Ever. Don't let them drag you down into that bitter, burnt out, resentful mindset with them. Don't gossip about students. Don't blame them for how you feel. Sit with someone else at lunch, even if those are your friends. This is one of the best pieces of advice my professors ever gave me; trust me on this one.

As for the other things...

I really encourage you to get your teaching certification through a college degree program, and try out classroom teaching for yourself. If you don't like it, if the bureaucracy is too much or you can't do the emotional side of it or it's just not for you, now you know! That teaching cert will serve you in a multitude of other ways, though, and if you end up in education regardless, you'll be glad you did it.

Transphobic laws and tendencies are going to come through most in school administration, and you won't feel them nearly as much if your school's admin is on your side. I really encourage you to be picky about the schools you work for. There are schools out there that will have your back, though; you might just have to look for, and even relocate for them. You know your circumstances best, and you'll have to determine if that's reasonable for yourself.

And.... if a student kills themselves, or something else terrible happens to them: you will grieve. You will hurt, you will be angry, you will be sad, you will wish it didn't happen, you will want to blame yourself, and you will grieve. Eventually, you will also process and heal and accept. And you will also continue to grieve. It's hard. It won't ever not be hard. Unfortunately, though, you won't escape grief no matter what you do for work. It's up to you to decide how you need to handle that risk.

Sorry for how rambly all of this is-- and best of luck! The world needs more teachers who are trying to do right by their students, and if you do choose to go into education, your students will be lucky for it. I hope you take care of yourself at least as much as you take care of them.

[formiito]

Hello! May I request some pre-relationship/crush headcanons with Kunikida, Atsushi and (ADA) Dazai (all separate) with a reader from the port mafia? How would they realise they are in love? How would they handle it etc etc. I love love love crush headcanons with all my heart<33

heart to heart — crush hcs!!

author's note: i'm an idiot who wrote this fic almost exclusively in hours 2-4 am. my eyes are in pure suffering. an unhealthy amount of fiona apple and unreleased lana del rey songs went into writing this. idk how to write headcannons so this ended up kind of like a fic with bullet points lmao 

— KUNIKIDA

• Working with the Port Mafia is something he is (unfortunately) no longer a stranger to. Still, an extended mission was a bit too risky for his tastes. But everyone said that he was fine, so he should be, right? If only he knew what novel sort of trouble he would face once he took the job.

• For the mission, he was partnered with you. You must've been of a different unit, because he is sure he has never seen you in person before. Except for being mentioned in passing by Dazai in his inane conversations, there was little he knew of you.

• At first, he was skeptical. Not sure whether he could truly trust a person with your affiliations to not double cross him in some way. However, you proved yourself capable soon enough. You worked with decisive efficiency, and even with his rather ridiculously timed schedules, you seemed to have no trouble keeping up with him.

• Needless to say, you two got to know each other fairly well over the course of a month. By now, you were acquainted atleast a little of his likes and dislikes. The late night sessions to plan out the routes and inspect the case files over and over; your friendship sprawls over late cups of coffee, the impatient scratching of pen on paper, and the files scattered on the table while you both worked.

• This was still professional; he'd reason with himself. So what if he's had a few drinks with you once in a while? So what if you've been spending a little too much time at his home lately?

• Dazai’s endless teasing on the matter did not help. At all. As he grows more and more defensive, he wonders if he has grown a little too attached to his new partner.

• Kunikida isn't an idiot. Even he can see how much you've made an impression on his life. He simply isn't ready to admit that this could possibly be romantic in nature. After all, you fit none of the ideals he's decided for his supposed future partner. In some form of pointed irony, the pages of the notebook that carry said ideals are also filled with the random, little things he's noticed you need; chapstick, switchblades, pens— all for them to be ready when you inevitably reach for them.

• Nor can he help stealing a littlewhen said chapstick swipes so elegantly along your lips.

• Absolute gentleman, with or without a crush. Opens the car door for you on the other side, makes sure you have your seatbelt on, makes sure to watch your back while you both do field work. It’s just a nice thing to do, he reasons, but feels your touch like it was branded into his skin where your hand accidentally brushed on his elbow.

• The weeks that follow after after drawn out, confusing. As time goes on, he cannot help but read into your every action, taking note of all the little details that outline you as a person; from your tastes to little quirks. While you seem blissfully unconcerned, he could not help but feel the weight of the tension between your conversations. It is not these emotions that scare him, but their intensity. His hands tremble as they once again bandage your wounds from the day’s work, mouth dry as he looks at the gashes you think nothing of—and he wonders since when he started caring so much.

• Kunikida may be a man of his ideals, but he can be honest with himself when he needs to be. And whether he says it aloud or not, he’s already known the effect you have on him. He's known it for a long time.

• When he inevitably confesses to you, there is nothing special about it. It's another evening at his house discussing work, and when you both take a break from investigation, he brings it up to you. He isn't expecting the sentiment to be reciprocated. In fact, he is not sure he even wants that to happen. He says it to be honest. With himself and with you. You deserve to know. And perhaps if he said it out loud, the feelings would subside, even for a little while; with a definite answer, he’d have a reason to put out the growing ember.

• Nothing could've prepared him for the shock of learning that this troublesome feeling could possibly be mutual. And nothing could have prepared him for the coy kiss on his reddened cheek after.

— ATSUSHI

• someone help this poor guy

• no, he's really hopeless with it, but let me explain

• When he was asked to collaborate with the Port Mafia once more, he expected to be paired with Akutagawa once more. You were a pleasant change of pace. At first, he was only met with your suspicion; something that drove an initial rift between the two of you. You weren't sure whether you could truly trust this weretiger you've heard so much about to hold up his end of the deal, and neither could he rely on this complete stranger who regards him so frigidly. However, you both were indebted to your respective organisations—it had to be worked out.

• Your staunch independence, and the confident countenance that carried with it an understated superiority, no doubt the effect of years of experience; at first it irked him. It made him taste a little of the helplessness that trailed him like a shadow all those years ago. He attempted to chase away the feeling; biting back at your subtle digs at his skill and experience, trying to keep up with you as best as he could. You matched each other surprisingly well when you both were at your most competitive; the combination of your finesse and his strength was lethal in the most satisfying of ways.

• Over the weeks, you both get to know each other a little better. The small talks on the way to station were something that he was, despite knowing better, looking forward to. He always seemed more affected by your banter than you were by any retort he could possibly throw at you; and when the sly curve of your lip made him feel the strangest sensation of a sort of rush in his veins, he made no notice of it.

• After that morning, this strange feeling had been growing worse. Steadily through the days, but even so he could point out that the emotion that seemed to sit just beneath his chest was unfamiliar. Sometimes he had to force himself to look away from you just to get it to stop and actually be able to hear what you were saying over the erratic beat of his heart. It was blatantly obvious to everyone but him, and despite the constant teasing and prodding by Dazai on what’s got him so nervous, he still assumed it was merely admiration. Perhaps he was simply in awe of your abilities. For weren't you so impressive when you dispatch your targets so effortlessly, or when you execute such flawless plans with an ease in your mien that makes it look of so simple?

• But then that begs the question as to why he still stares in a daze when you're doing nothing, just catching your breath in the wall crack you had pulled him into to throw off the people chasing you both; his back hitting the wall and you the only separation between him and whoever was at your tails, stalking the alleyway outside. Breaths held, not making a sound; if you both got caught, this was over, and you both understood the stakes better than anyone. He definitely knew just what was waiting for the both of you out there, and that just made the situation far more frustrating, because then why is he so absorbed in how pretty your jelly-like gaze is, or how cool you looked back there when you silently felled that patrol guard? He feels like his brain has melted. Or atleast the still working part of it, because it's not even the first time you've had that effect on him.

• Your hand tentatively shifts, and for a moment he snaps out of the daze. There is abject fear in his eyes, because what the fuck are you doing when the both of you are one slip up away from messing up this mission you both worked so hard on? Yet your fingers, trembling with the rush of adrenaline and the fear of death, wipe the blood on his cheek, observing a rather deep cut inflicted by the serrated edge of a dagger. He could take a hit, but for some reason worry seemed to claw at your mind relentlessly until you could make sure he was okay.

• Perhaps he'd stopped functioning right there and then, because when the footsteps receded and the coast was finally clear, he could barely hear you say that it was safe to come out. Instead, his first move is to hold his heart and take a deep fucking breath. Not just to calm him down from being chased like that—for he's already been chased so many times—but to stop thinking about that brief, soft touch that reasonably, should not even affect him.

• At this point, he's kind of convinced he's going crazy. And like so many problems in his life, there's only one other person to hear it. Coincidentally also the worst person to go to for that kind of counsel.

• Dazai.

• Bastard laughed for fifteen whole minutes before explaining in broken wheezes what Atsushi was possibly afflicted with. Then immediately began sighing and bemoaning about having to help his coworker with silly love problems once he finally stopped cackling like a witch.

• After this… enlightening conversation, Atsushi promptly decides that he's never going to be able to look the man in the eye ever again.

• Now, he's got a whole slew of new problems going on. This mission, you, the fact that he just embarrassed himself in front of his coworker, and that he had no idea how to even face you after this realization.

• Naturally, he wants to avoid this situation. Atsushi doesn't even consider telling you. He wants to, so badly. His throat feels tight when you look at him so sharply, and he can't help but feel that if he sticks around you for too long, you'll look straight through him and somehow find out. But he has every reason to think this won't work out. Every reason why it won't work out. It wasn't the time for love, not even in the small moments of respite between the constant violence you two had to deal with.

• This distance he's been keeping from you…there is no doubt that you feel it too. He can see as much. The disappointment in your gaze when he keeps on pushing you away; it hurts. And he knows with the way your hands are curled in fists now that you're at your breaking point.

• But instead of the argument he thought this would inevitably lead to, you simply pull him into a corner. In the most sincere tone he's ever heard you speak in, you ask him if you did something wrong. Between your deliberate words, your hands on the collar of his shirt that hold him in place with nothing but gentle firmness, and the emotions that he tried so hard to stifle for the past few weeks; he confesses. Leaves nothing unspoken, even if he consciously knows that this is a bad idea. Knows he shouldn't hand you that kind of power over his heart.

• Yet he doesn't regret it a single bit when he feels your hands leave his shirt collar and wrap around his shoulders, your silent answer that kills the bitter uncertainty left in his heart and replaces it with relief.

— DAZAI

• Your history with the brunet was brief, but not something he has ever forgotten. He’s not quick to forget faces in any case, but yours remained in his memory still.

• You both worked together fairly often some three or four years back, the timeline is blurry in his mind now—in those days, your presence seemed like it would be a permanent fixture in his life. Something to count upon. Perhaps he had hoped for the fact, until an year after when he finally decided to leave this life in the dust, and you with it.

• At the time, Dazai had dismissed those feelings as puppy love; the sort of infatuation that comes with simply being of that age where every emotion feels so amplified in intensity. You were one of his first friends, it was only natural to want to cling on, wasn't it? Only with time it became easier to ignore the hold your presence had on him, his mind too consumed with the ongoing chaos in his life to think about that craving he had during initial weeks of your separation— thumb trembling over the call button.

• A few years after, seeing your face stirs nothing in Dazai. A feeble sense of regret is all that remains, and within a few seconds even that dies off. You've changed, definitely; rough-hewn edges from mafia life, knife-hand no longer trembling when it goes for the kill. Decisive, swift movements, a certain confidence in your words that comes from experience. How the glimmer that used to be in your eyes has long since been clouded over. In a way, it makes him feel closer to you, that your soul is being slowly chipped away, just like his.

• Initially, you regarded him like any other professional acquaintance. Not daring to breathe a word of the past, even when you wanted to demand an explanation out of him so desperately. Anything to make the memories of your shared past more bearable. You know better than to give into those whims. If only for the sake of your mission, the past had to be put aside. Between the both of you, there seemed to be a mutual, unspoken understanding for the need to let go. Your slates are cleaned, and you both once again end up in the same place you started; Yokohama’s shipping docks.

• Over the weeks, being around you feels easier. You both work well into the nights, but it's a little more bearable around your company. The banter is easy between the both of you. Lips curved into a cheshire grin at his antics, you always seemed to be more amused with his actions than annoyed.

• Even now when he decides that diving head first into the sea would've made for a perfectly delightful method of suicide, a knowing sigh leaves your lips, painstakingly pulling him out of the fishnets with a firm grip on his beige coatsleeve. Of course, the effort is in vain when you lose your footing and end up falling into the water with him too. Splash!

• Somehow, even when he's walking home, sopping wet in the winter breeze, he feels strangely warm as you chide him, observing how your lips twitch as if to hide a smile.

• It’s your fault, really. Perhaps if you both didn't fit together so well, if it wasn't so effortless to be around you, he might have avoided feeling the same way around you again. It's not lost upon Dazai, how comfortable he's getting with your presence, especially when he knows it's a temporary one. A fact that he is compelled to face again and again everytime you both end up in the field.

• The danger they were facing were still very much real. Despite how confident you seem to be in your ability, your tight shoulders and shaky breaths betray you in the heat of the moment. Through your hesitation to follow through his plans, you still trust him at his word. He can't help but wonder why.

• Your actions hold a certain carefulness—he doesn't want to call it care, for when it comes to you, he finds it hard to tell what you're thinking—that he doesn't understand. As you wrap the gauze around the wound on his arm from a bullet graze, fingers touching his skin with a kind of gentleness he's only ever known from you… Dazai wonders when you'll finally tell him what you're really after.

• The brief thought occurs to him, no doubt, that maybe you do these things simply because you want to. That perhaps you still care too much, like you did all those years ago. But he knows better than to count on something as fickle as the kindness of people’s hearts. He was never that naive.

• Even so, as the long days and even longer nights pass by, he can't help but once again start feeling as he used to in the distant past, only that this time he has no excuse for it.

• Dazai doesn't blush and his heart doesn't race when he sees you. Instead, it's something far more sickening and confusing. With you, it's easier to drop the delicate layers of pretense that seem to obscure his true thoughts and emotions like delicate gauze. There is a sort of ease of being around you, a sense of belonging. In the delicate moments of the late night hours with you, humanity doesn't simply feel like a cloth to wear to hide the rotten core within. You touch him like you know him, even when he knows that the blood staining his hands is far darker than yours.

• You don't even have an inkling of how he feels, and Dazai believes that it's for the best. He’ll tell you in the future, if he can grow to trust you. He wants to say it when he can be sure of it, in a more peaceful time. Even if he doesn't want you to slip through his fingers again like he did in the past, he wants to wait.

• But right now, all he can see is your bloodied fingertips trembling in the aftermath of the day’s chaos, barely having escaped with your lives. In the silent night, neither of you mention how he holds your hand silently on the walk home, bandaged fingers holding yours with deliberate care.

[ghouljams]

hey ghoul, this isn’t really anything sex / writing related but i’d still really appreciate some feedback because i’m kind of at a loss here.

the other night i got, like, super high off a 25mg edible while hanging out with some friends who were drinking. there were two sober people in the group. being high off my mind, i was somewhat conscious of what i was doing but was in no position to correct myself besides asking the people around me if what i was doing was okay / if i was making them uncomfortable.

there was one person there who i don’t know all that well and it was the first time i’d hung out with them. i was super high, and they were incredibly drunk. i know i was laying over them a lot since my body felt incredibly heavy and id get really close to their face, but in my delirium i thought we were on the same wavelength with the energy they were giving back to me.

however, when i apologized the following day for how i acted, they told me i made them very uncomfortable that night, and i felt horrible and apologized profusely, to which they said they appreciated my acknowledgment of my actions. after talking to one of the sober people there, they told me “you were kinda all over them :/“ but i cannot stress enough that i COULD NOT control how my body felt. im not in anyway excusing or downplaying my actions, i know how i acted was wrong even though i was intoxicated. and also, that same friend sat down next to me that night and told me i needed to “tone it down by like 30%” because i was kind of all over people, and i started crying and telling them that i can’t help it and that it was mean of them to say that to me when im so high.

again, i’m not excusing my actions, but i guess what im wondering, is at what point do the sober people become “responsible” of the actions of such an intoxicated person? at what point do they need to step in and put space between that person and everyone else, if their actions are truly making people uncomfortable?

i’m so sorry this is so much, and you don’t need to respond, but i need to make sure im not like crazy or anything.

As someone who has babysat a lot of super high people (on various substances) but has not done much in the way of drugs I would say that if someone looks like they're TOO INTOXICATED then the responsible thing is to make sure that person is safe. I cannot tell you the anxiety I had reading your ask and hoping you weren't going to say someone touched you or assaulted you in some way.

This is just my opinion as a former trip sitter (which isn't the same as hanging with a greened out friend) but uh your sober friends should have gotten you to a horizontal surface if they noticed you were having trouble keeping yourself vertical. Also really questionable to tell someone clearly far past their intox limit that they need to "tone it down." That's just unkind.

I am not trying to say that intoxicated people are completely absolved of their actions or can't control themselves, but if you are sober and see an intoxicated friend making bad decisions or making someone uncomfortable, then it's your responsibility as their friend to get them out of that situation. The same way you would keep your drunk friend from going home with a guy she just met, your friends should have done a better job taking care of someone who was too impaired to function.

The only thing you can do is what you have already done: apologize to the people you made uncomfortable and let them know that you'll try and make sure it doesn't happen again.

Look I've had plenty of rollers laying on me or petting my head, or rubbing their cheek on my pant leg, it's a thing that happens when people get high. I'm not someone who likes being touched, but I also am someone who understands that they weren't meaning to do anything that made me uncomfortable, they were just super fucking high and trying to find something to ground themselves.

[winters-on-the-wing]

Oh what you said responding to the ask about transphobia/bigotry I've been looking for the right way to describe it: hard to romanticize! Thats like the foundation of this fandom it seems. Everything is whitewashed and stripped down to its bare bones to be the most relatable and palatable shit! Complexity for this fandom is babying regulus and feeling bad because his brother (rightfully so) left home. Like cmon are we not capable of being deeper than that. We base everything on the most bland tropes like brother's best friend and grump x sunshine! Truly moving and deep literature explores people in 3d not the 2d shells of people that can be described in singular words/attributes that bastardize them and make them walking caricatures of people (eg; Marlene = lesbian, Mary = pretty, James = sunshine, remus = wolf, and so on) the best art isn't easily palatable! The movies that leave you feeling ill or uncomfortable (in the good way) for lack of a better word are usually some of the best films. I feel like even aside from the racism, sexism and other problems of that sort, this fandom just lacks depth? We gave ourselves full creative power over these characters and bastardized them and it makes me so sad. There are so many smart and deep people in this fandom and I wish their analysis and ideas about the fabdom were he more popular ones instead of the ones that are easy to romanticize. Let's see conflict, not everyone has to be friends, people can be complex and not completely bad or good. Make them have complicated relationships outside of ships. What are the odds of about 13 people (the most popular characters) ALL finding their soul mates in highschool??? Like u can have sm fun exploring these characters but noooooooo. Ok sry for rambling, I'm a yapper. I'll stfu now

no. don’t stfu. never stfu.

you are absolutely right and you really boiled down something i’ve always been frustrated with.

i’m an actor. it’s my JOB to take characters from text, to see words on paper, usually ONLY dialogue and stage directions, and create a person, a fully fleshed person with wants and goals and fears and a soul. it’s my job to use the clues that the canon text provides and make the character pop out of the page, to make them compelling, to make them HUMAN.

if it’s not human, who the fuck cares? i know i sure dont.

i don’t want to read about plastic robots as they go through all the tired, stale tropes. grumpy x sunshine, enemies to lovers, best friends brother. it’s all the same. it’s a formula. it’s spoon feeding. i’m not trying to hate on people who enjoy it but i just can’t imagine being satisfied with that. the barest touch of the surface level when there’s so much if you go deeper. so much more HUMANITY. so much more meaning.

i need grit. i need people with palpable flaws, people who don’t always get what they want falling into their laps when they want it, people who are IN THE WRONG. people who think bad things and do bad things and regret it, people who do bad things and don’t regret it. people who exist messily. people who make me uncomfortable to read about because they’re so like me and i have to face the fact that i’m not perfect.

i don’t want a perfect romanticized story where the little white boy gets rescued by the big muscular casanova. i don’t want a robotic generated formula where the perfectly placed lesbian couple get just enough sentences to be seen so that the author can feel progressive and inclusive and then the lesbians get shoved off and forgotten about forever.

what happened to authenticity? what happened to bringing a piece of your soul to the art you create?

again i’m not trying to tell people how to enjoy fandom. do what you want.

it just personally saddens me how hard it is to find work with that human spark in it. the spark of curiosity, of intrigue, of going deeper than the bare surface level. i love art that makes me think. why does nobody THINK while creating anymore? sometimes i just feel so alone in this, surrounded by plastic when i want to read and write and engage with work that was written with a beating heart so palpable that it can be heard between every word.

i wish fanfics and headcanons and concepts that were created with thought were more popular than they are, instead of the same bland thing being shoved down my throat every second of the day. i constantly get hated on in this fandom for thinking differently than everyone else, but why is individuality an enemy? im starting to think that i get hated on in this fandom for THINKING, period.

does that make sense?

maybe i’m pretentious. it’s highly likely i’m pretentious.

[youremyheaven]

something that's always bothered me about conversations of mental health and well being is that, it's incredibly hard to isolate one's mind as a site of conflict and "treat" it on its own. a person is more than their family, genetics or upbringing. their environment, the culture & society they live in, their lifestyle, the kind of food they eat and the kind of work they do/don't do, are all so influential in affecting a person's well being and frame of mind. if u eat a shit ass diet full of store bought processed food and junk and get no sunlight and don't have any greenery around u, of course ur going to be fucking miserable. what the fuck is a pill gonna do about that??? so that u can keep showing up to ur dead end job and let them profit off ur labour?

capitalist narratives about mental illness are always about keeping someone medicated enough to function well and keep the system in its place and capitalist narratives of mental well being encourage a happy parade of consumerism

yk who benefits from all this?? not you. you eating sea moss for breakfast isn't going to fix you bc beyond individual responsibility and seLf cAre, systemic changes like a 4 day work week and gee idk BETTER PAY would significantly enhance the quality of ur life and make u want to kys less

it's radical to live a slow and sustainable (and sustainability applies to the individual as much as the environment, u need to live a life that doesn't make u crash and burn every few weeks) life in a world that demands that u numb urself and keep fucking going 🔥

and I'd rather be a fucking radical than blame my parents for how my life turned out to be. bc if the system were fucking built differently it wouldn't fucking matter.

western psychology has ppl brainwashed when it's fundamentally created as a tool to suppress the masses and I will die on this hill

[hollowed-theory-hall]

hello! do you think percy would be a good minister of magic? i have been reading a fic that explores this path for the character that's amazing but i was wondering if what we know about him in canon would really allow him to be a good one

No, I don't think he'd be a good minister. Or that the position would be good for him.

Listen, I like Percy, I honestly think he's an interesting character, and I like his arc (even though I wish the ending of it would've been a little different) but that guy is not minister material.

Percy as a minister would be pretty similar to Fudge. He's a bureaucrat who'd be constantly chasing the approval of other influential people (he'd have his limits, but, he'd still do it). He is not particularly charismatic, and while he is intelligent, he's not the wisest. Specifically, because he chooses to be blind when it suits him (like, not realizing something is up with Ceouch Sr, because Percy got to do the job he wanted).

Percy idolized Crouch Sr. Percy as a minister, especially if we're immediately after the war, is going to crack down on all Death Eaters like Ceouch Sr did. Percy was out for vengeance after Fred died, and I don't think he'd be sated once the war is over. He'd 100% use his position to make life difficult for anyone associated with the Death Eaters and improve his own family's standing. What I'm saying is that he'd be pretty corrupt. Not that he'd see it as corruption, that's just how the ministry is and always was, and he'd see no issue with it because the ministry is perfect in his eyes.

(Also, I would've actually preferred seeing him step away from the ministry, at last for a bit post-canon. I think the environment there is doing Percy no favors, frankly. Him going back to work in the ministry post-canon is like going back to the abusive ex that gaslit you)

Yes, he had an arc, but his arc wasn't about seeing the faults in the system at large. I mean, I don't think he really sees the problems with the ministry as an organization.

Even post-canon, he'd think (like most characters, to be fair) that the problem in the ministry was the specific people there. That if they replaced some of the people in power, Death Eaters and Voldemort wouldn't be an issue again. He wouldn't consider that the problem is the system itself and how the ministry operates (part of that selective blindness I mentioned). It means that, just like Fudge, when Hermione or someone would come to him like: "yo, there's a problem with how this works" he'd say: "that's impossible! that's how it always worked! We can replace the person in charge and that'll fix it" and call it a day. He could be convinced to add some reforms for the sake of muggleborns, but I don't think he'd come up with them himself. And maybe he could be convinced to get the dementors out of Azkaban under the right conditions but I won't hold my breath for it.

Percy loves rules and bureaucracy, and he adores the ministry (as an organization) the way it is. He isn't going to be the solution to the WW issues.

Also, I think Percy is the kind of boss who'd be a horrid micromanager, and that is a potential recipe for disaster in the ministry. He just likes when everything is done to perfection and how he thinks it needs to be done, so he'd constantly check on his subordinates and annoy the shit out of them. I don't think he'd survive more than one term. (Hermione, might also do this as a minister — one of the reasons I'm not a fan of her as the Minister of Magic either)

Do I think his tenure as minister would damage the Wizarding World? Probably not. It'll stay more or less the same. He'd be pretty efficient in getting what he wants done, but what he wants is probably not what the Wizarding World in Britain needs.

(Though, he might just be chosen/elected because they don't seem interested in actually solving their issues, yk?)

Do I think he'd be a good minister? Not particularly. He'd be there for his term(s), not change anything big, and keep the status quo more or less intact. History would remember him as an okay if forgettable minister (like Fudge would've been remembered had Voldemort not returned in his term). Like, I think he'd be better than Fdge in certain aspects (he has more of a spine), but, like, that's a pretty low bar.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Your response to a recent ask ('I still think that partners can show up for each other even if they’re not physically in the same space, if they support each other emotionally otherwise') is a really, really insightful comment and puts into words something I've been rolling over in my mind recently. It's like Dolly Parton and her late husband - they were never seen together in public and he never went to any of her events or shows, but spent a lifetime being supportive nonetheless.

idk, i've realized I maybe just grew up very differently due to the industry my parents worked in lol along with many of their friends. My parents spent several days a week apart for like the first decade of their relationship before they had me because of the nature of their jobs, so like, to me, partners not being in the same place doesn't mean a relationship isn't strong or isn't supportive. ON the flip side, partners can be by each others' side 24/7 and not see eye to eye or support each other in the way they need if they're not communicating or on the same page about their goals. So I don't see physical distance as any kind of barrier to a supportive relationship, nor do I see physically showing up as the barometer for what a healthy relationship is.

Dolly and Carl are often cited as an example of how a superstar and a recluse can work. I won't say I know a ton about them, but obviously Dolly felt loved and supported, and from the tributes to him after he passed away recently, it seems like she did have the unequivocal freedom to do whatever she wanted career-wise and felt supported in doing so. So even if Carl never made a public appearance with her in 60 years of marriage, it seemed to have suited them fine because she still felt the freedom to pursue whatever ventures she wanted without feeling shame about them. (Candidly I don't think that dynamic would work for me 100% -- I think I'd still want someone by my side in big moments -- but different strokes for different folks lol.)

As we've learned in the last few years and particularly through TTPD, the issue arises when that reluctance for the spotlight translates to resentment of it at home. And on the other hand, if we're using what we can see as an example, it's very obvious that in her relationship now, even at times when Taylor and her partner couldn't be in the same physical space for events due to other commitments, they absolutely felt each other's support in other ways. (See: Taylor hopping on an IG Live to watch Travis' ring ceremony last year, or Travis making sure to praise Taylor's accomplishments on tour in the press when he had other engagements. These are minor things, but it speaks to showing up in other ways, let alone the ways we don't see in their own home on their own time.)

[will1survive]

I've experienced something incredibly similar! This is my 2 cents. Its just the voice of a random person on the internet who think they may be able to help one person, so do with it what you will. This is what worked for me: It took an awful lot of doing incredibly small challenges to chip away it. Stuff like stepping outside my front door, going in a car (if that's something available to you). Eventually, once you're comfortable with that thing most of the time, you do a little more. Then, a little more.

Some days, it'll feel so crushing and intimidating, like you should give up and throw it all away. But you have to keep trying, keep remembering all of the amazing progress you've made, and be proud of yourself for it. I won't lie. It's still hard - of course it is. But it gets easier, and you have bad days, but eventually, those bad days get further, and further apart, you learn how to cope with them. I don't believe it gets "better" just easier.

Also, importantly, you don't have to do everything right now. You have time. So much of it. It's completely okay and normal for people to go to college/university, etc. at a later age where you feel you can do it and want to. College/university isn't the set path for success and fulfilment - you can get a vocational qualification or no qualification at all. What matters is that you're happy with what you have. Success doesn't have to big offices and 6 figure paychecks. You can just own a little antique shop in a rural village or be an electrician. It does not matter. Life is not an exam you need to pass that you'll get graded on at the end. Academia and a career are only two aspects of a person. In America, from an outside perspective, at least, people place so much emphasis on the value of a person as what their career is. It seems to be ingrained into American culture that work = identity, thus worth. This is far from the truth. Your job only defines if you if you want to and let it. There are so many other aspects to your life that you can focus on and value, a job can just be a means to an end - you can place importance on relationships, your hobbies, your religion or spirituality, and even your cat! None of it matters! It's beautiful!!

To look at it in a more morbid way, nobody will remember you because of your job. It's not something that'll be mentioned at your funeral. The man who devotes himself to a 9-5 will have an incredibly quiet funeral. I had an uncle who I thought was a car mechanic until I went to his funeral and found out he worked for a renewable energy company as a repair man. But I did know he had 9 cats whom he loved so damn much. And he liked motorbikes and good food and heavy metal music. We ended up visiting his work because he was loved and when they spoke about him they spoke about his personality.

That is to say, focus on yourself. You are what's important in your life.

Really dumb ask, but I've been thinking about the life gets better response you had to an ask, and I'm not saying I have some horrible terrible life, but the way you kinda described it is "just stay on the track, you can fall down plenty of times, but when you get up, it'll eventually get better." (I'm so sorry if I read your answer wrong), but what if your life has gone off the rails. I started homeschooling because I had panic attacks for like a month that lasted like 10 minutes to an hour a few times, but because of stuff, I don't think I'll be able to graduate with any sort of degree and be able to go to college. I am almost 18 and has never gone out without my family or during some school trip, I have difficulties with speaking to people (both in an anxiety way and communicating my thoughts effectively way), and I cried once because I was overwhelmed in a grocery store. I used to feel safe, because I did okay in school, but now I just feel lost. Writing this down, I realize again how stupid this ask is. I apologize, but not enough to not make your ask box a confessional. Also I think that strange goth stuff you're doing is very cool. Good day

yeah that's not something I have experience enough beyond "that's probably not good", but odds are that someone else who'll read this will know better, so you could check the notes on this post later in case someone does?

[14dayswithyou]

That is all thank you

ANSWERED: Art credit for da first Ren meme goes to @meo-eiru!!

BUT HELPPPPP THESE ARE SO FUNNY JDSGJH T_T The Moth meme + Uno meme had me CACKLING lmaoooooooo

[flickeringflame216]

.

[sinnohsiblings]

"You? A savior with how much enjoyment you get out of petty cruel words and egging people on? Your world is doomed." A garbled chuckle came out of the great wyrm "Look at you also spinning in the lil circle of another gods choice for your life with no say in the matter in the role you play. Guess your life isn't that different...hopefully whoever is in charge of your fate doesn't choose to kill you for not meeting their unobtainable expectations."

"I never said no ones dealt with what I have, I said I hope you don't have to. Many Giratina before me were victims of Goliapede and many more will be when I'm gone. I'm the one on record who just held out the longest. I've had indigestion that's had longer runs than your species life span, 14 trillion years is a very long time. I don't expect someone outside my kind to comprehend that many years."

He lifted his head with a groan "Therapy helps with most. But a shrink will not be able to help me, child of darkness. My body has reached its physical limit. Not even gods can last forever. I am very old and very worn and in my current condition couldn't stand if I wanted to."

Calama huffed "I don't care what you choose to do little Absol. The choice you make today will be who you are as a person and will reflect on your heart not mine. A lil Gengar came to me before I was attacked, worried for his friend who just wouldn't change and kept intentionally trying to cause his own death by angering others and making enemies for himself. I told him if they were incapable of change then he'd have to leave that person because they would only hurt him in the end. And based on your behavior I wonder if you are that same friend so keen on making so much trouble your friend will have to bury you young and live with the guilt that even though it wasn't his job, he couldn't save you from yourself."

"You could certainly try and kill me little Absol but even in my current condition it wouldn't be easy. And even if you managed to injure me you wouldn't leave this world alive as a result. There are so many witnesses about who would intervene. Also without it's savior around to prevent it from ending i guess you'd take your world and the people within it down with us as a result. Funny how actions have consequences."

"On an aside why bring Galadriel into this conversation? She was my student, nothing more, we've said our goodbyes long ago to one another. She hasn't needed me since she was a calf. Last I spoke to her was when she asked me to do a small favor for her by finding out someone's favorite flower so she could surprise him with them, and that I did. We have nothing we gain out of seeing eachother, no deeper bond. Looks like you make just as many assumptions as I do." He sighed and rested his head on the ground.

"so little Absol what is your choice? Who are you truly inside? Are you a good person despite your games and ego or another bloodthirsty tyrant looking to place their boot and run in their little circles?"

*Destino approaches Calama in his beaten state. No matter the size of the opponent, Destino was indeed stupid enough to insult. Destino leans an arm against the big giratina in a rather relaxed pose, not a care in the world for what may happen to them.*

Destino: You know, I've seen many Pokémon in my time. Many. You're probably one of the largest. Now, if I was your size, I'd probably be pretty strong, you know? Strong enough to not let some overgrown noodle come out of nowhere and beat the shit out of me. It's funny really. Sometimes you think you're strong enough and you just end up being weaker than you need to be. Pathetically weak. I could probably lay a single night slash on you and it'd end you in a second. Judging by your state, a simple quick attack could probably do the trick. You're stupid for tackling such a strong opponent. I'd say that creature beat your brain out of you but, let's face it, there probably wasn't one in that thick skull of yours to begin with. Seriously, with that pathetic show you demonstrated, I doubt you could ever protect anyone. Then again, do you have anyone actually worth protecting? Or are all of you slimy, shriveled worms the same?

Calama at first ignored the Absol when he approached. Marshadow littering his entire body length feverishly working away to tend to their creators wounds, fussing and fretting as their tiny hands washed the deep slices while others tried to slow any bleeding spots.

As the Absol droned on and on about how superior it was and how pathetic Calama was and how easily the mortal could kill him in his weakened state the Giratinas body grew limp and sunk flat into the lake he was being washed in. His face buried itself against the earth in front of the Absol, the golden eyes of the god dull and growing duller as his listened before welling up with a slick wetness.

"Kill me then."

The Giratina's voice was faint as if the very labor of speaking burned his throat but there was also a sorrow laced in his voice that bubbled to the surface.

"Be just like those fairy types that condemned your kingdom to darkness...infact be worse than them condemn billions of innocent lives to death to stroke your own ego...to prove some worth you need to prove to yourself."

"I never asked for this life." His voice faltered. "I was a child. I was barely old enough to mass shift...let alone be sentenced to death...for the crime of having a color mutation...sent to my death by my own father just for mourning the mother I never got to say goodbye to before illness claimed her... Something you'd hopefully never have to know the pain of...14 trillion years I've protected billions of generations of lives...14 trillion years I have been battered and mauled to protect the people who put me in that position...14 trillion years I've been stuck in a life not worth living but went on anyway..."

Tears rolled down the giants face as more color seem to fade from his body he looked older...much older as his form seemed to give up and leave itself to the very fate that was sealed trillions of years ago.

"Billions of lives have always depended on me without me getting so much as a say in it...I value only a single one...her above all others and if this world ends I may rest knowing she'd be safe. Free to live a full happy life in another world where death doesn't linger on the horizon for her...allowed a life I could never have...You may end me little Absol...but I will rest knowing I gave my daughter a life worth living. A success even in the face of my defeat and you could never take that away from me even if you tried."

His sighed and his eyes looked away from the Absol staring off into the distance.

"All this suffering just because a child cried for his dead mother...all this because I wanted to say goodbye...fate sure is cruel to those of us of exceptional birth..."

[gingerrhd]

Inktober 2024 day 10

Been listening to the jello dubs and tbh they're right.

One thing about the postal service, is it's taught me that a lot of adhd and autistic adults have found their home in running the same routes every day and I think that'd suit mae

[ivan-fyodorovich-k]

Sometimes you'll hear people talk about how God has guided them to wherever they're at through little nudges or providential serendipity or little nudges to do or say this or that

I'm having the opposite experience, wandering into bad career moves, silly errors, inadvertent oversharing, etc., unintentionally self-sabotaging in a futile quest that can lead only to ruin despite my best, even desperate efforts to the contrary

[izzy-b-hands]

Was doing okay holding back all of the fear re: the potential election outcome until literally this second what the fuck to my brain lmao

[svartalfhild]

In case anyone was wondering what the vibe is at my job, today I had to stop a fistfight between two 7 year olds while attempting to convince another two to stop saying inappropriate things before I run out of chances I'm willing to give them. This is a normal Tuesday. I'm a reading tutor.