#tw mentions of car crash

[dcxdpdabbles]

Is it possible to have some more Mr Flavour please?

The first thing he notices is the soft mattress underneath him. It's such a stark difference between the bed of his motel and even the bed at his house that Danny knows he's nowhere near his tax bracket.

There is such a thing as too comfortable. The sinking feeling of the plush pillow around his head is entirely like that.

When he blinks and opens his eyes, he finds that someone has placed him in a large bed with a canopy bed. Shifting about tells him that all four of his limbs were tied to the bedposts, and although he's not pulled taunt, he definitely isn't going anywhere without his powers.

The chains used were long enough that he would likely be able to shift about but not get off the bed. It looks like they were meant to allow him to move in the middle of the mattress, but that's it.

Curiously, he heaves himself into a sitting position, mindful of not going too far in any direction, running his eyes over the bedroom he finds himself in. It takes him a moment to notice that everything is themed around a mushroom forest, almost as if he was dropped in the setting of a fantasy novel.

He realized his clothes had also been changed, starting to look at the silk-like tights and tunic. He felt a weight shift when he moved his back to bring his knees up and lean on them. Glancing over his shoulder, he found a pair of wings strapped to his body.

Danny tilts his head before he goes back to surveying the room, and his eyes catch the mirror of a light brown wooden vanity. His reflection looks back at him with carefully done make-up. He has dark navy blue eyeshadow but with glitter resting on them and his cheeks to remember stars, the twinkle-looking kind. White eyeliner was also used to paint sharp butterfly-looking wings from the edges of his eyes pointing towards his ears.

Metal cuffs shaped like pointed ears were added to his ears, and a pin was attached to his hair, which held tiny little daises, even in his few strands of hair.

A jeweled collar is wrapped around his neck as thick as his thumb, with the North Star resting just over his Adam's apple.

The bed he was sitting in had a mushroom top that spanned out with a bright red cap and white poke dots. He could not see it from underneath it, but it looked like his bed was the steam of the mushroom.

Oscar dressed him up like a garden fairy.

"This feels like it was way too much effort," Danny mutters, staring at his reflection. He looks annoyingly pretty, offended the style fits him so well. He thinks he would have made a way better vampire. At least Sam would find it funny. "I have to handle it to him, though; he knows his way around a make-p brush. Wonder if I can get out of here."

Danny tugs on the chains, pulling his limbs as far as they go before a nasty pop is heard, and he has to bite down on his lower lip to stop a scream. His left wrist is useless, having snapped. A wave of agony courses through him until his healing factor kicks in long enough to snap his bone back, but the soreness lingers.

Phantom was just out of reach still, hidden somewhere underneath his skin.

"Guess not," he sighs. A few minutes pass, and Danny fills the void by reciting the periodic table and their atom masses. But when he grows bored of that, he starts patting his knees to a random beat, making popping sounds with his mouth.

That leads to him singing, at first, a few words from actual songs, then it drifts into nonsense.

He finishes his little jingle for his sodas, creating a rip-off of commercial jingles from home, adding more ecstatic slaps against his knees in a fast-paced drum roll.

He attempts to think of a rhyme for soda, using words he believes aren't real when the wall across from his bed suddenly shifts.

Danny hadn't even realized the open space across from his bed was a door since it blended so well with the flowers that decorated the wall. Oscar stands in the doorway, still wearing his suit and smiling his oily grin. "How is my lovely little fairy?"

Danny waves at him. "Hey, fruitloop. Here to kill me?"

Oscar laughs, steps in, and closes the door behind him. He crosses the room to carefully caress his hair. Danny hisses, but it does nothing to deter the man, who sighs lovingly, "I could never harm you. You're the first of your kind in my collection. Usually, my fairies have lighter hair like those of the forest, but you're from the stars, aren't you? My lovely cosmos fairy."

"Hmmm," Danny squints, "I don't like this. Just kill me."

The man laughs, dragging Danny into a hug by the chain on his left arm. "You are so mischievous and defiant. I should have collected your kind years ago."

Danny allows the hug only to feel Oscar's pockets press against him. He doesn't feel like a key is on Oscar's person, nor does he feel like he is carrying a weapon.

Quick as a wipe, Danny throws out his fist, nailing the older man between the legs. Oscar wheezes, but not enough to make him stumble. He squeezes his arms tighter, encaging Danny, and the pulled chains limit his movements.

Danny struggles against him until his eyes land on the mirror again, watching as his kidnapper grabs the side of the watch. "No misbehaving."

One click later, the North Star lights up. Shockwaves of electricity rush through his body as a scream is ripped from his throat. Distantly, his mind flashes back to the last time he felt this sensation- when he opened the portal on himself. His body spams about as Oscar coos into his hair, muttering reassurances until the power dies.

"Good boy. Such a good boy.," Oscar mutters as Danny gasps against his chest. "A good fairy can be mischievous but not misbehave, right?"

Danny opens his mouth to snap at him when he notices a glow in the corner of his eye. He raises his hands, staring at the familiar sight of Phantom's glow, feeling his heart leap with joy as his healing kicks in. He wonders if he finally got his powers back.

He wills his body to flout, to sink through solid, or even to vanish from sight, but nothing happens. He gains a new piece of his other half, but not nearly enough to turn into him. There is only a glow to his skin for now.

Oscar obviously sees it, for he gasps with delight. "My star fairy, shining for me."

Danny headbutts him, but even though he causes the man's nose to bleed, all he does is laugh and pet Danny like a cat. Another button press has the chains retreating into the wall, flinging Danny back on the bed, spread out and unable to move.

The teen frowns when Oscar eventually leaves him, promising to build him a galaxy room soon. A few hours go by, and a dull ache builds up in his limbs, but eventually, the man returns, setting up some glow-in-the-dark star stickers on the top of his bed. He rewards Danny's "good" behavior by allowing the chains to grow, and he's back to being able to move on the bed.

Days go by like this when Danny attempts to force the man to use the button, wondering if he needs electricity to finally have Phantom back. Sadly, nothing seems to upset Oscar, who chalks every act of defiance as a characteristic of his "star fairy" genes.

Eventually, Danny grows bored, even though Oscar regularly brings him food and walks him to a bathroom where he is ordered to shower—thankfully without the man inside but attached to the chains of the shower walls—and retouches his make-up with great care. His clothes are always replaced with new, clean versions, even with the same design. He doesn't know how long he's been trapped here, but he is sure it's a few days.

"Can I make sodas?" He asks while Oscar is laying behind him, hugging Danny to his chest like the teen was a giant teddy bear. There is, thankfully, nothing intimate about it, just holding him while they slept. "I'm bored."

"Of course. Your kind needs mental stimulation rather than the physical kind, don't you? That's why you made your drinks before; you wanted humans to need your potions." The fruitloop mutters, tucking the galaxy blanket over Danny's shoulder. "I'll bring you things tomorrow."

The following days are a little more leisurely with his soda-making. Oscar had his men find Danny's motel, taking everything he needed to create his Mr. Flavor soda and sets up three tables next to the bed for him to work. Apparently, Danny is his calmest fairy, so the chains around his wrists are removed, and the ones around his ankles increase in length.

Danny can now freely move about the room to his heart's content. Oscar vanishes for hours on end but eventually always comes back every night to watch Danny work on his sodas. He brings glass bottles the two fill, and Oscar hauls them away to who knows where.

Danny can't really tell the time as there are no windows, and the only source of light is one large lamp hanging from the ceiling. However, Oscar's behavior has a pattern. The older man shuts off the giant lamp and lights some fairy lights, leaving the room in a dull glow.

He only does that when the pair go to bed, making him think it's nighttime. Danny carefully counts the hours from there.

One day, Oscar doesn't come back, as the hours drag to what he knows is nighttime. This is his chance. He takes his wooden spoon, the one he uses to mix the syrups in a bored flavor experiment, biting down on it as hard as he can.

Danny grabs his feet, bending them until two nasty cracks are heard. The wood muffles his scream, but even as his healing attempts to fix the damage, he yanks and pulls his limb until it slips through the metal cuffs.

Once they land on the ground with a clack, Danny is hit with a wave of nausea. His tunic is coated in sweat, his head is swimming, and he doesn't feel Phantom, but Danny is free.

A few minutes go by when his healing gets to work to fix the damage as he drags himself to where the door is. The chains had allowed him to wander there, but he never attempted to pry it open.

Today, he not only tries, he succeeds. His bare feet return to a healthy state, allowing him to stand in the doorway. Outside his colorful galaxy, slowly losing the first theme bedroom, is a long grey hallway filled with other doors.

Each door has a number painted in a large black font.

Danny glances both ways, sees no one, and sprints down the hallway on his right. He makes it all the way to the end, where all that's visible is a single door. He looks over his shoulder to where he came from and finds that his room is the last one in the hallway, showing no exit.

He gulps, praying this is the way out while carefully twisting the door numb as quietly as possible. Thankfully, no soul is in sight when he pushes the door open.

The first thing he realizes is that the space is much smaller than his cell, looking more like a broom closet than anything else. Inside, a chair is set up in front of multiple monitors that are all handing over a large desk. Two file cabinets are on the side, but that's all the room there is for.

Squinting, Danny realizes it's a security system. Getting closer, he watches as various light brown hair people dressed as fairies are shown chained up, moving about their rooms frantically and fearfully.

They are all forest themes with a number on the corner of the screen. Danny realizes he knows those numbers and glances back over his shoulder. Sure enough, the numbers are in the same font and color as the ones on the screens.

Well.

Danny hums, rummaging through the office in search of keys. He is alight with dying, but he doubts the other people Oscar has kidnapped are Halfas in waiting. There is nothing on the desk, so he turns his attention to the file cabinets

Inside are deranged notes on fairies' habits. Records of their diet behavior and a shockingly large amount of physical exercise for each kidnapped person are documented.

Apparently, where Danny, a star fairy, needs mental simulation, the forest fairies need to do HIT training mixed in with random types of Dance to keep them happy and healthy.

Number 4 was tap dancing, while Number 7 was doing ballet. It was so unfair. He would have loved to develop some muscle here, making his new desire to break into the grid storage easier.

Maybe he could shock Phantom back. The next drawer has his bottled sodas, which clack against each other. A note about storing his potions for future healing is on top of them, and Danny's face twitches.

Fruitloop.

He considers the drinks before deciding the other captives may need an energy boost to help them leg it when he sets them free. He grabs a premade hanging water cooler, swinging it over his shoulder after checking to make sure his sodas are inside.

Eventually, Danny finds a ring of keys at the bottom of the last drawer. After confirming that the exact numbers are painted on them, he rushes out of the office. He arrives at number 1 with a cheer and flings it open.

A man in his mid-twenties jumps a good foot off the lofted tree-shaped bed. He is also dressed as a fairy, but instead of Danny's blue and purple hues, this one is in different shades of brown, and his face is clean.

A similar color to the one Danny wears is wrapped around his neck, but the centerpiece is a large oak tree instead of a star.

Danny grins, holding out a bottle of cola. "Hey man, want a drink?"

The stranger only has chains around his wrists, which means he can scramble to the back of the wall the second Danny speaks, "What?"

"Oh, by the way, I'm doing a prison break. You in?" He laughs, swinging the keys around his other hand.

Hours later, Number 1—he refused to give Danny his name after the boy attempted to rip off the collar on their necks. Apparently, explaining that he wanted to feel the zap all over his body instead of wanting to set Number 1 free was "alarming"—it had helped him free all nine captives.

The Halfa was the youngest among the group, as everyone else was at least older than twenty, though it looked like ages ranged from early twenties to late forties.

The only things they shared were chestnut hair and earth-themed fairy costumes. Danny stood out for more than just his manic grin and bubbly personality. He offered one of his sodas at every rescue.

Everyone had accepted a drink from the overly cheerful child, who eyed Danny with distrust but was willing to follow him through the last door. It led to a ladder drilled into the wall. Danny volunteered to go up first, ensuring the coast was clear after forcing a latch to open above him.

Oscar had stashed them in a bunker far outside Gotham's city limits. It took some coaxing, but Dannt got the group to wander through the darkness, holding hands so as not to lose anyone. His powers weren't entirely back, but he's always been able to see a bit better in the dark than his friends.

He chatted the whole time, offering more bottles whenever someone grew too anxious. He spent twenty minutes describing all the flavors he made for his sodas, taking careful steps through small dips in the uneven ground. It seemed the bunker was on a hill, isolated from people.

Eventually, they caught sight of a road, and everyone breathed a breath of relief when a car came into view. It was three loops of curling roadways down below. Still, it passed under the only light post, showing a sleek black model that indicated wealth.

Number 3- who also refused to tell him her name- was in the process of thanking the heavens that someone could help them when Danny demanded that everyone drop.

It was gratifying when they all did it without a second thought.

"That's Oscar's vehicle. He drove it at the restaurant." He hisses as the car rounds the cliff's side, nearing them. The air grows cold as the rest of the victims try to hide in the shadows.

It won't work. Despite the fact that they are on high hills, there is no coverage. The second Oscar's headlights were within reach so he would see them.

Danny considers the sobbing Number 3, her once joy now gone, and realizes she doesn't want to be found. Unlike him, if she gets hurt, she won't unlock the powers that had once made him unbreakable.

He takes off his cooler and hands it over to Number 1 with a soft command: "Stay low, and no matter what, don't try to save me."

"What-"

Danny stands from his hiding spot, flinging himself over the edge of the cliffside in a familiar leap and landing with a loud thump on the lower hill. He drags himself to his feet, running in the opposite direction of the group, singing at the top of his lungs his new Mr. Falvor jingle.

Oscar's headlights fall over him as the man hits the brakes. A second of silence later, the car turns on its wheels with a loud screech as Danny rushes to the edge of the second loop.

"My Star! What are you doing!?" Oscar cries, but the tone sounds amused as Danny flings himself over the edge with a cheer.

"Come catch me! I want to play a game!" He calls out, ignoring the ache of his knees, and takes off in a run the second he lands. He hears the roar of the motor as Oscars round the side, foot on the accelerator, and laughs alongside Danny.

He barely makes the leap when the vehicle smashes against the road railing. Oscar had attempted to run him over.

"Oh, you naughty star fairy!" The car is thrown in reverse and starts down the much longer road as the man driving it sings Mr.Flavor's jingle. Danny doesn't look towards the victims, worried he'll give them away, as he whoops loudly and takes over into a sprint.

The longer road bought him time, but now it's just him against a speeding car. There is no light down here, and he forces himself to be as fast as possible. He can hear Oscar getting closer, but he pushes through, wanting to put distance between them and the other kidnapped people.

He uses the fact there are trees alongside the road to his advantage, but beyond that is a cliffside and the crashing waves of the sea. He could jump, but even if that brought back Phantom, Oscar would potentially cut his losses and turn back, catching the hiding group. He weaves through the barks as Oscar drives behind him, yelling about punishments and naughty fairies.

He gets pretty far, he thinks, the hill with the bunker long behind him, looking much smaller when Danny runs out of trees. Then it's just him and the open space. Oscar's headlights bathe him as the man jumps off the road, speeding until the motor sounds like a roaring monster.

Danny can't outrun him, so he doesn't. He stops, twists on his heel, and spreads his arms wide open. He doesn't close his eyes as the lights get closer, and he sees Oscar's mad, flushed face seconds before the metal rams into him.

"KID!" A horrified cry fills the air as Danny is thrown from the windshield. It's like time has slowed down.

He manages to turn his head in time to see multiple police cars come to a stop just a few feet away from him, a man in the process of throwing himself out of his car, one arm stretched toward Danny.

His face is twisted in horror, but Danny recognizes his eyes. It's the masked man who felt guilty the day he was kidnapped. Ha. He knew he was an undercover cop.

Danny hits the ground hard, rolling three times before he lies broken and tired. His skin is glowing, and his hair puffs up a little, like it was electrocuted, but that's the only real chain besides the multiple wounds on his body.

Phantom's powers are still not entirely back.

He feels numb as the background noise of the police swarming Oscar is heard, with one of the Gotham heroes leading the charge with a war cry. Danny can't bring himself to turn his head but watches Red Robin fly by on his motorbike, aiming the front wheel hood of Oscar's car.

He uses that as a springboard to launch himself through the front windshield- already cracked by Danny's body, and attacking the driver like a beast. Police near the car, all with guns pointed and shouting.

Someone drops to their knees in front of Danny blocking his view. It's the same undercover cop who is talking fast and desperate, but Danny can't really understand him because of the ringing in his head. He feels his healing factor finally start, but it's much slower than normal.

Hands carefully turn him onto his back so they can put some pressure on the bleeding coming from his neck. Glass had smashed against his flesh there, and Danny hadn't even noticed.

The man's desperate face fades in and out of focus until his healing finally pops his ears, and sound rushes through his senses.

"-going to be alright!" The man is screaming. "Hang on, kid. Hang on. What's the ETA on the medics!?"

"Five minutes! Keep putting pressure on his wounds, Grayson!" someone shouts back out of Danny's eyesight. Hmm, dark spots are appearing in his vision now. He was going to pass out soon.

He should tell Officer Grayson about the rest of the Numbers before he does.

"The Others...."He coughs, spitting some blood. The man's face spams.

"Don't talk. Save your strength," he commands, but Danny ignores him, forcing his hand to raise and point to where the group was hiding.

"The others...are hiding....I lead....Oscar away.....from them. They need help.....please." He babbles, watching tears gather in the man's blue eyes. He blames himself—Danny can see it clearly as day—for putting the Halfa in this position the day he helped the rest kidnap him.

Obviously, he needed to do it to find the rest, but that doesn't stop the guilt from eating him alive right in front of Danny. He forces his face to twist into a smile.

"Don't be sad....I told you....I wanted to be a ghost." His words are a bit clearer as his healing throbs around his throat, but it's all he can handle. He fells himself, fading as the look of devastation clouds Officer Grayson's face. Just as Danny passes out, he mutters. "Delete Oscar's footage of my soda making. It's my secret formula."

He surrenders the blissful darkness as the ambulance sirens fill the air.

[u3pxx]

had the stray urge to design the gavin parents. what if kristoph was their favorite what then ...

cw: car crash mention below

thinking abt the "all gavins are terribly nearsighted" headcanon of mine. in my mind, the gavins have no concrete backstory bc i ain't got brain space for that pftt

but. i think they're similar to the skyes in which they lost their parents when they were still young. in a car accident where kristoph and klavier were the only ones who survived.

with klavier fast asleep.

kristoph was 17 and klavier was 9.

i am a "kristoph raised klavier by himself" truther bc of the [waves hands] implications of all that like wow!

(having to become a parent for your little brother the growing resentment of having to be the parent of your little brother but he's your little brother. you must remember that he's your little br

ANYWAYS , what if kristoph was their parent's favorite. like klavier was the happy precocious kid during family reunions yes, but what if bright, brilliant, and promising kristoph was their favorite. have you ever thought about th

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

My biggest fear about learning to drive when I'm old enough is accidentally getting into a crash because I am CONVINCED there is someone staring at me in the back seats. What wizard did I piss off for this endless curse :(

[transmasccofee]

the time loop chapter is so fucked up i think about it every day and reading the manga its worse because there’s certain dialogue that was cut out of the anime (presumably to make it acceptable for kids)

Like ok. im gonna give a play by play from Saiki’s POV. so you can For a second imagine how much stress Saiki had to be under.

Imagine walking home from school and out of nowhere you get trapped in a time loop, already bad, but you can get out of it easy- except uh oh! now you are in ANOTHER time loop. ok, fine, get out of that. It goes on so long that you eventually stop being able to process anything around you but whatever, its fine. EXCEPT UH OH! A THIRD TIME LOOP! This time you are trapped in a loop of watching your best friend run into traffic to protect a small child, and the only one able to save them from dying brutally is you. You save the day, great, Unfortunately this is a time loop and now you’re trapped in this hell, watching your best friend dive in front of a moving truck. You need to have an empty mind to leave this, but thats hard because you also have to keep them from getting flattened. You’re getting more and more exhausted, but thats fine. You watch them get brutally killed in various ways thousands of times, over and over and over and over again, but thats fine. it’s still looping. you keep failing to save them. it’s still looping.

Rather than emptying your mind, Eventually you just disassociate, its gone on so long that your body is moving on its own. You are so tired, and you’ve seen your best friends organs on the road now probably a couple hundred times at this point (seriously Wtf Asou) and so it’s all just blended into the background.

You disassociate so hard your mind is empty. Your body moves on its own to save them. The Time Loop is finally over. You went through this 16,785 times.

[mushed-kid]

i need to stop speaking forever.

[black-tea-brown-eyes]

OF PLANE CRASHES, DROWNING, AND ACCEPTANCE OF DEATH.

Black Hole - boygenius, Last Words of a Shooting Star - Mitski, Afraid of Heights - boygenius, Sidelines - Phoebe Bridgers, Plane Crash Blues (I Can't Play the Piano)

[bendysinitiation]

I was trying to find more eerie old films for this au and THIS one is a goldmine. It’s a film for the encouraging of asbestos in products and it is extremely creepy. There are many, many shots of places supposed to be made “safe” by asbestos, and shots of asbestos itself, while the narrator talks about how great a material it is. If you’re in for shots of burning houses with jaunty music, seeing just how much asbestos was used in everyday products back then, crashing cars, or whatever, watch this. This is really what I wish BATIM felt like.

CW: Fire, Burning homes, Very loud sounds at beginning and end (skip to 00:12 seconds and skip from 16:03 to 16:17), Car Crashes, Death Mentions

(The description also has its very own ID for every shot!)

(Image ID: White text that says “WHY ASBESTOS?” with an asbestos cloth behind it. End ID)

Here are some shots I found creepy that I’ll probably use for the au later!

[thelunarsystemshares]

Nearly got a in a fucking wreck 👍

[antiendovents]

wanna answer to this post: https://www.tumblr.com/antiendovents/743582164233453568/hello-there-we-will-not-be-tagging-off-or-even?source=share

(term osddid used to refer to did and/or osdd-1).

1. abt your concerns of being hateful. there's nothing hateful in being anti-endo. know some people may tell abt anti-endos being mean n always hateful. may compare us with transmeds n other bigots. some genuinely thinks like that, some do it on purpose to make people scared of seeking other opinion. also know our community is, uh, regular community. there are some bigots, some really hateful people, some people who harass n make harm. but these types of people are in every community. not only anti-endo, not only syscourse. in general neurodivergent community, in queer community, in every community will be some aggressive n mean n hateful people. in endo community too. but. you don't have to be like them. n most of us are not like them. being anti-endo doesn't obligate you to send hateful asks, harass people or even talk a lot abt how endos are bad. being anti-endo obligated you only believe in one (1) thing: system can't form without trauma.

2. you don't have to participate in syscource. you can be anti-endo n just... live your life. make content abt system things or consume this content, talk abt your experience n so on. a lot of anti-endo people don't participate in syscource and live their regular life. they post what they want, read/watch what they want n do nothing abt endos. if you don't wanna, you don't have to. changing side doesn't mean you have to promote your opinion.

3. abt your questions in endos' ideas. you are right. someone can't develop osddid without trauma, because there's no reason to not form single identity without dissociative barriers. other tries to explain osddid failed.

4. abt exotrauma. for people who don't know this term: exotrauma means trauma that individual haven't bodily survived in this life. may be used to refer to trauma in past lives (if individual believes in past lives) or source trauma for introjects (when source of introject survived trauma n introject have false memories abt that trauma). exotrauma can't work directly, but there's nuances. someone can't be traumatized directly by something they haven't bodily survive, because it's unique experience.

tw car crash mention, injuries

(general "you", not abt someone personally)

you won't claim you survived car crash if you have seen how someone else survived car crash? even if you have introject of them. they got injures, they may face legal consequences, they were inside n it's different from being outside.

but. you still can be traumatized. not by surviving car crash, but by surviving seeing car crash. it's called trauma of the witness.

end tw

(general "you", not abt someone personally)

same with other trauma. you can't claim you've survived something that you haven't survived bodily in this life. because you are in this body with this brain. only this body n this brain can be physically affected by traumatic events. (yeah, trauma impacts brain physically).

but. you can be traumatized by seeing traumatic events. it's not the same as being traumatized by event itself, but it's trauma too (trauma of the witness). or you can project. it's especially abt fictrojects. some people introject character with same/similar trauma. n they can feel connection with said trauma. if they have survived it bodily, it's their trauma too. if they haven't survived it bodily, it's not exactly their trauma, but they can feel some connection n relate with source's experience. and it's valid (until they don't claim it's exactly their trauma because their source has it).

so. every talks abt exotrauma should recognize these facts n avoid claiming that someone can be considered trauma survivor without bodily surviving this trauma.

5. abt madd. it definitely can affect your system, because it affects your thinking, perception n brain as a whole. so why it should affect everything except system. is there a "don't touch!" tablet? /rhetorical. until you claim you can make or change alters by will, it's absolutely okay. your headspace is a form of communication between alters (visual n other perceptive). so it can be affected on how your imagination works.

6. and again, there's nothing wrong with getting to know other point of view. you don't become hateful because of it. it's good to listen both sides n then form your opinion. because you need to know all arguments to make balanced decision. it's rational way of forming opinion.

gonna post this as informational, nothing really to say here other than we all agree with this :3

[joen-lenawley]

Why do so many people who draw fanart of Billy Shears make him evil and holding a knife and sadistic and covered in blood? It’s not like he murdered Paul in the original conspiracy theory. People claim that Paul died in a car crash (“he blew his mind out in a car”), so it wouldn’t really make sense for him to depicted as a murderous psychopath. I get that people do make AUs where he is (I love the “A Day in the Life” comic), but art like that out of context bothers me a little. Plus, if he murdered Paul, why would the Beatles want a murderer replacing their bandmate? Do what you want, though, I’m not your mom and this is completely trivial.

Anyways, sorry, I’ve been getting obsessed with Paul is Dead lately. I don’t believe in it (obviously), but it’s super fascinating. Might write something based on it.

[espers-n-espurrs]

Oh thank fuck. Your social circle's reactions made it sound like a school rampage incident for a bit had happened to you and/or Victoria. Car IS nasty, don't get me wrong, but it's a whole lot better than what it looked like from the outside then. Especially since in good enough condion to joke online so soon.

yeah, i guess, tbh im only on here right now because i dont like watching tv and thats the only thing i have in the hospital room to entertain me besides my phone.

ive nothing else to do currently and i dont want to be left alone with my mind right now.

[eggmeralda]

do you ever feel casually suicidal? like you're not depressed or anything you're doing fine but also it feels like a convenient option

[strange-doll-child]

Making the Happy Haunts very unhappy deaths

[gufettogrigio]

Bastian contrario

Grimaud's cemetery is grim in the rain. Damon is the one who has had the forethought to bring an umbrella and wouldn't mind sharing but there's not much point. The wet gravel crunches under Jacques' sneakers a few feet in front of him, his steps almost a run. Damon has to bite his tongue. If they shouldn't be seen, why are they here?

Didier Pironi's tomb is unassumingly lined up in a row of others, him and his brother side by side. There's a few flowers, some in pots, some not. Jacques hasn't brought any.

He stands there, in his t-shirt and baggy jeans, stubborn under the rain, just a step away from the shelter of Damon's umbrella. 

"He had a lot of my father's things." - Jacques says  - "My dad never cared enough to have a journal, not enough patience, but he'd keep all of the train tickets, hotel receipts, the flyers and so on. All bunched up in folders. Pironi sorted them out for me in years and gave them to me."

"I didn't know you two talked."

There's a shrug. "He didn't want to. I am very stubborn." 

The rain doesn't let on. Damon considers it a victory that when Jacques decides to sit cross-legged on the gravel in front of the grave, he lets Damon sit by his side with the umbrella. He's soaked through, his bleached blond hair plastered to his forehead, his round glasses fogged up by the rain.

"Once, we were in Monaco, Jody and Pironi came over. I was at the table doing my homework and they came into the room and stayed there talking." 

He takes his glasses off. "I fucked up. I am not good at math."

Jacques says them but they are not his words. It doesn't make them a lie if you believe them. Damon hears what is not said: he has seen Jacques do math for the cars. He's good. A child of eight or nine should not be expected to be 'good'.

"Dad got mad and then got even madder because I knocked the pencil sharpenings over when I scrambled to try and fix the mistakes. He never…he never hit me. Not once. He would just walk out the room like I wasn't interesting anymore. I wasn't a very interesting child. Sometimes my mum wasn't a very interesting woman."

Jacques tilts his head, fingers gripping the tin frame of his glasses. He's never still. Damon knows the look on his face, PR proper. Lie,lie, lie. Keep the family secrets. How dare you do otherwise? But you forfeit your hand when you've killed yourself in a car and Jacques is here in sneakers and a t-shirt and all four wheels on the tarmac. 

"My first real memory of Pironi is him with pencil all over his hands from picking up the sharpenings, sitting next to me doing primary school math."

 He drops the glasses in the gravel and reaches out, the tips of his fingers grazing the headstone. "Didi knew who my father was. Didi saw what I saw. He loved my father anyway. He just wasn't blind. He always made me feel like I wasn't insane for thinking that my father was a horrible person. He also made me feel a lot less guilty for adoring him anyway. And if I win the Championship, I'll bring it to Didi first."

[raceweek]

. in this essay i will