#why is everything hard and why is it so hard for me in particular for some reason bcs I know the majority of people deal w this just fine

[onelonelyghost0]

Danny was pissed.

Sure, he got his two weeks, but Clockwork could stretch one week into an eternity, and Danny doesn’t see the problem. Well, he does, but he also sees all the solutions.

“My boy, you don’t know the repercussions you could have!” Clockwork worries for the umpteenth time, “ The GIW could find you, you could’ve been killed, Dan-“

“Alright! I get it!” Danny cuts him off.

“I know what could happen! I’ve seen it! I’ve fixed it! I do all of your dirty work and barely take off days from work! I have their trust! The Justice League may be shit, yes-“

“Language,” Clockwork corrects absentmindedly.

“-but they don’t work with the GIW! I helped them, they’re more apt to help me now! If I’m King of the Infinite Realms and I’m to be the Ancient of Space, which you haven’t exactly been as sneaky with that training as you think you have, but I can’t protect?”

Danny stalks away from Clockwork, the predators grace he fights so hard to keep hidden on the Watchtower now on full display as he looks back as Clockwork, his words full of fangs and power.

“You’ll starve me. And you’ll be stuck with whoever kills me for good.”

Clockwork floated still, stunned by the Kings sudden resurgence of his Obsession, unable to see what the action will bring.

—-

Meanwhile, the Justice League wonders why Danny is suddenly away, and why Batman is lying so poorly about it.

Bruce was told not to tell, but he never was told to lie convincingly. He learned this particular loophole from Jason, after he told him not to tell his siblings about the gunshot wound. And Bruce learns his lessons well. So he not only lies to the Justice League, but to his family as well.

His children are like bloodhounds, sniffing out whoever has their father acting like this, and finding almost everything. The firewalls around Amity Park. The GIW. The experiments. How the ghosts weren’t even named, just numbered.

And how one Daniel Fenton, who bore a striking resemblance to one Daniel Nightingale, was in a near death accident with a portal that was Lazarus green.

And maybe, one of the Bats got a bit territorial. Making sure he got home ok. Asking oracle to keep an eye out. Seeing him in their civilian personas.

Danny knew he’d have a headache, but he didn’t expect one this big. Not one that gave him this many casseroles.

DPxDC Mechanical Engineer Danny

Danny caught the attention of Batman while studying at Gotham University for his alternative energy projects. He’s hired right out of college to work on the Watchtower.

He shows absolutely no tell of his abilities till there’s a dire situation- Flash’s electric discharge messes with one of his projects in progress and the whole base would have lost air pressure if he hadn’t done a quick fix using telekinesis and ice.

Of course Batman notices.

Batman assumes the worst- he suspects Danny’s a rogue of some kind, someone who has infiltrated the Justice League with an ulterior motive. But he can’t just fire Danny now- he’s the only one who knows how the new Watchtower energy source works. Plus, he’s not letting Danny go anywhere until he’s figured out his true motives.

Cue Batman subtly testing Danny- tossing things at him to trigger inhuman fast reflexes, having him lift too-heavy machinery, setting up convenient opportunities to steal or snoop or otherwise be up to no good. Danny does take advantage but only once, to use a computer terminal with unlocked clearance. He didn’t plant any bugs that Barman could find, and he otherwise kept up his powerless civilian act perfectly.

Still, Batman’s not satisfied. He brings an infrasonic sound emitter to Danny’s lab one day, and that, of all things, is what gets Danny to break.

“I know what you’re doing,” Danny admits with a sigh, finally. “If you’re really that suspicious of me, I can leave, but I kinda like my job so I’d prefer not to. The benefits are insane compared to what’s standard.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. yeah. How about you turn off the freaking noise generator and we can talk?”

“Hm.” Batman obliges, and he takes the stool next to Danny at his gesture.

“Number one, I’m not a meta. Despite all the data and conclusions you’ve probably drawn otherwise. Number two, I’m on your side. I’m here to work on the base, that’s it. I follow your rules to the letter.”

“The-“

“The classified files I looked at? Yeah that was the one exception. You already know what I looked at, I’m sure, but maybe you haven’t figured out why. It goes back to point one- I may not be a meta, but I am something that organization, the GIW, cares about. I looked at your files on them to sus out your relations. Seeing as I don’t particularly love being the victim to twelve degrees of human rights violations if I can avoid it.”

“Hm.” The Ghost Intelligence Ward was one of many government agencies that the Justice League hadn’t worked closely with. But they also hadn’t been flagged for Justice League investigation. Danny’s comments made him doubt that call.

“Any other questions?”

“If you’re not a meta, what are you?”

“I’m an engineer. A pretty decent one. And I’d really, really like it to stay that way.”

Batman considers, and ultimately lets him stay. He likes Danny (everyone likes Danny), and it would be a massive pain in the ass to replace him. He really is a good engineer.

It’s only much later that his faith in Danny is repaid in spades.

Batman finds Danny on the Watchtower command bridge. Alarms are blaring, the station has been knocked out of orbit, out the window there’s shrapnel floating everywhere as a space battle rages around them.

On the station it’s chaos. Technicians run around, shouts from the med bay, sparks from the walls.

Batman and Danny stand at the main controls, watching the battle outside, stoic, unmoving.

Wonder Woman’s harried voice crackles through on coms: “We need backup.”

“There is no more backup.” Batman replies, while looking pointedly at Danny.

“What?”

Batman doesn’t move.

“What.”

“The impact from Darkseid’s initial attack should have sent this station on a terminal trajectory toward the planet.”

“Well. We aren’t currently plummeting to our deaths, so turns out it didn’t do that.”

“You did something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe Superman nudged us back on course in all the chaos.”

“I’ve been watching the trackers. No one else with the capability has come near the station.”

“Can’t you just be grateful we got lucky?”

Sounds of peril screech over the coms. Danny’s face scrunches.

“Luck had nothing to do with it. As it is now, we are going to lose this fight.”

“Isn’t there anyone else you can call?”

“I’m asking you. You can help, can’t you?”

The glare-off lasts a long moment more before Danny breaks.

“Fuck. Fuckity fuck.” Danny runs his hands through his hair. “Shit. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I’m asking you to save this and countless other worlds from a genocide. I’m also asking you to save my friends.”

Danny looks at him, hard, weary, and with a kind of deep resolve that feels far too ancient to be on the face of a supposed twenty-something.

“Fine. Fine. Okay.” He steps back and transforms. If Batman is surprised when he shakes off his human appearance like an old coat, he doesn’t show it. But what’s undeniable is the being in Danny’s place has the unmistakable presence of power.

“No one else can know.” His voice echoes in a way that’s sonically impossible, both sounding closer and further away than he should be.

He pulls a gear-shaped medallion seemingly out of thin air and puts it over his head in one motion.

“If I get in trouble for this, I’m blaming you.”

He vanishes. Outside, the shape of the battle changes instantly. The stars seem to glow brighter as the arms of the galaxy flash with the colors of the aurora. Then it’s like the void of space itself comes alive. It moves the spaceships back like they’re toys, plucking them from one side of the field to the other. It finds Darkseid at the heart of the chaos and massive arms of nothingness and darkness wrap around him. He’s screaming as it swallows him whole.

His armies scatter. The battle turns. The JL deal with the stragglers, but the air of relief is palpable.

Danny reappears next to Batman, once again donning his grease-stained coveralls. Arms folded.

“Happy?”

It took all of five minutes. Less, probably. Batman tamps down a thousand questions.

“Thank you.”

“I’m gonna need two weeks off minimum.” Danny snaps. “One to deal with the bureaucratic nightmare you’ve just caused me, and another to recover from the headache.”

Batman blanks. “Granted.”

Danny sighs. “And I’m not fixing the station until I’m back. It won’t fall out of the sky as is. Make up whatever excuse you want.”

“Done.” He considers. “I would prefer to tell them the truth. That you saved us.”

Danny glares. “I’m not supposed to save you. I made a pact not to use my power to influence the mortal realm.”

“A pact with who?”

Danny rolls his eyes. “The embodiment of Time. The concept of Justice. Among others.” He smirks at Batman’s confusion.

“And what, exactly, does that make you?”

He stands, framed by the space window, haloed by the stars. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Batman frowns.

“Look. I like you guys. I like working on your base. I like supporting the work you do. But you can not go factoring me in to any of your plans or contingencies. This was a one time thing.

“So to answer your question again: I’m an engineer.”

[official-cvntified-gay]

MINISKIRT masterlist

pairing: professor!wanda x fem!reader

warning: ??

wc: 1.7k

note: Inspired by the cunty miniskirt of aoa, been a while since I posted so here it is.

I'm wearing a miniskirt.

But why are you the only one who doesn't notice?

You felt good. You looked good.

Your hands trailed over your curves, fingers mapping the way your clothes hugged your body just right. A smirk curled on your lips as you admired yourself in the mirror—high heels elongating your legs, the fabric of your miniskirt perfectly smooth under your freshly painted nails.

you weren’t dressing for anyone in particular. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

"Holy—"

You whipped around at the sudden voice behind you, your roommate standing in the doorway, eyes shamelessly dragging over your figure.

"Who are we trying to look good for?" she teased, biting her lip, her gaze never leaving you.

"No one," you replied quickly, though it came out a little too defensive.

She raised a brow, clearly not buying it. She stepped closer, adjusting the collar of your shirt, her nails grazing your skin deliberately, coaxing the truth out of you. "Bullshit," she said sweetly.

Rolling your eyes, you felt a familiar heat creep up your neck. "I’m not trying to impress anyone."

But she wasn’t listening. She flopped onto your bed with a smirk that made your stomach twist. "She won’t be able to take her eyes off you now."

You swallowed, pulse quickening. "Still the same?"

"Yes," you muttered, collapsing beside her with a groan. "It’s frustrating. She used to look at me like I was…" You trailed off, the words hard to say.

"Everything?" she finished for you, her voice low, as if knowing what you couldn’t bring yourself to say.

Yes.

Because she had looked at you that way.

Professor Wanda Maximoff always found your eyes during lectures, her gaze lingering longer than necessary. Her voice would drop an octave when she called your name, and her touch—always fleeting but deliberate—lingered when she handed back your papers, or when your hands brushed in the hallways.

You had been her favorite.

Everyone saw it. Everyone knew.

But recently?

It had all changed.

Her gaze turned cold. Her touches vanished. Her words became clinical, dismissive. As though you were just another student—nothing special.

You didn’t know what happened. You didn’t know what had caused her to shut you out. But one thing was certain: if she wasn’t going to look at you the way she once did, you would make her.

Class was the next morning, and you had carefully planned your outfit. You chose the clothes you were trying on last night, a tight miniskirt and a fitted blouse—one that accentuated your curves, one that would make her notice you. You didn’t care that you might seem bold or inappropriate. If Wanda wasn’t going to give you the attention you craved, you’d find a way to force it from her.

As you walked into class, you could already feel it—the tension.

You chose a seat in the front row, a place you rarely sat, and crossed your legs slowly, letting the hem of your skirt inch upward. Your fingers brushed the fabric absentmindedly, smoothing it out, almost as if you were teasing her. What you didn't caught is Wanda’s eyes flicker to you, and it unconsciously sent a thrill down your spine.

You could feel her gaze on you, heavy and assessing, but she said nothing, continuing with the lecture like everything was normal.

This wasn’t normal.

Her voice dipped lower, harsher, when she called on you. "Miss Y/L/N, since you seem so comfortable today, why don’t you answer the next question?"

You tilted your head, playing innocent, pretending you weren’t aware of what you were doing. "Which question, Professor?" you asked, your voice steady.

Wanda’s fingers tightened on the lectern, her knuckles white. You saw her jaw tense, and something flickered behind her eyes.

Thinking your planned worked. You leaned forward just slightly, the movement causing the fabric of your skirt to ride up a little more. Wanda’s gaze flickered again—this time it lingered longer, and you could see her struggling to maintain control.

Her voice trembled, betraying her resolve. "What is the defining characteristic of a..." She trailed off, as if the words were becoming harder to say, harder to focus on.

You felt it, that familiar energy pulsing between the two of you. She was fighting it. But you weren’t going to let her win.

You shifted again in your seat, slowly, letting your body draw her eyes like a magnet. You traced your fingers over the hem of your skirt, just enough for her to see, but not enough to give you away.

"Professor?" you asked, your voice low, almost teasing.

She snapped her gaze back to the board, her breathing shallow. The class seemed to stretch on forever, but in that moment, all you could hear was your own heartbeat—and Wanda’s quickened pulse beneath the surface.

When class ended, you didn’t wait. You stood immediately, gathering your things quickly, knowing she wouldn’t let you go without addressing what had happened.

You walked up to the front of the room, the slight click of your heels on the tile floor echoing through the otherwise empty lecture hall.

Wanda’s eyes followed you the whole way, and you saw the tightness in her jaw, the tension in her shoulders. She was trying so hard not to give in.

But you weren’t going to make it easy for her.

You stopped in front of her desk, standing just a little too close, waiting for her to meet your eyes.

For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Just stared at you, her breath ragged, her gaze dark.

And then, slowly, she exhaled. "Miss Y/L/N," she said, her voice dangerously low. "Do you think you’re clever?"

You leaned forward slightly, matching her tone, matching her challenge. "I think you want me," you said, each word deliberate.

Wanda didn’t move, didn’t respond immediately. But you saw the way her chest rose and fell, saw the way her fingers curled against the desk.

Her eyes never left you as she spoke again, her voice like velvet. "You’re playing a dangerous game."

You swallowed, a rush of heat flooding your body. Maybe you were.

But you knew one thing for sure—if she wasn’t going to make a move, then you would.

And this game? It was only just beginning.

You leaned in just a fraction closer, your breath mingling with hers. "Are you going to punish me, Professor?" you whispered, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

For a split second, Wanda’s face was unreadable—her expression wavering between something dangerous and something far more personal.

"You’re asking for trouble," she said, her voice barely a whisper. She stood up, moving just a step closer, her presence almost suffocating now.

Your pulse raced as the space between you two became thinner, the tension unbearable. There was no going back now.

"You want this," you said, your voice breathless.

Wanda’s eyes darkened, her lips parting as if to say something—anything—but nothing came out. Instead, she took another step, her hand reaching up to trace the outline of your jaw.

Her touch was light, but it sent a jolt of heat straight through you. You tilted your head slightly, your lips just inches from hers.

For a moment, neither of you moved, caught in the forbidden tension that had been building for weeks.

And then, Wanda's voice, barely above a whisper, broke the silence: "Next time… don’t come so close."

You smiled, knowing full well that there would be a next time.

And next time, your miniskirt would lay in a crumpled heap on her bedroom floor.

[chocochiffonnn]

Cookies & Promises

➸ Pairing: Idol BF! Nishimura Riki x Reader

➸ Word Count: 1.5k words

➸ Synopsis: Baking and a clingy boyfriend who rarely got to see you— combining the two creates a chaos, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

➸ Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, some curse words, riki is sososososo clingy here, riki and niki used interchangeably. enjoy reading guys!

➸ Songs to play as you listen!

Junny - Promise

Johnny Stimson - Casual

New West - Lovely

Taylor Swift - Say Don't Go

Enhypen - XO

●・○・●・○・●●・○・●・○・●●・○・●・○・●●・○・●・○・●

Nishimura Riki always found a way to touch you.

It hardly mattered when the occasion was odd, or the crowd was rowdy and bustling. Subtly, Niki just somehow always found a way to come to contact with your skin.

Perhaps it is because his love language revolves around it Though he hates the idea of over the top physical affection in public, he truly does revel and thrive in the subject once the two of you are alone.

Like this very moment right now.

A particular Saturday night, after the two of you had gone for early dinner, you decided make some cookies as a dessert. Riki had gone over to your house, as he'd often do when he wasn't out doing idol business, practicing, or training.

Which is, in all honesty— is rare.

Thus, the reason for him lazing around your house all day and sharing nothing but movies, games, food, and laughter the last couple of hours. This particular night, however, was the first time you got to see each other again after a week of him being away.

And following this event, you supposed you wouldn't see him again for as long as a month or so as they are to be in tour.

It explains the reason why as you prepped the ingredients needed for the cookies and scurried around the kitchen, Niki had you in a back hug the entire time.

It didn't help the fact that his head was on your shoulder, too. Peppering soft and gentle kisses around your nape, neck, collarbone, and cheeks, occasionally.

"Riki, baby, can you let go for a bit? It's hard baking these cookies." You reason, as you set a carton of milk atop the table. Niki only hums, pulling you closer to his chest.

"Why?" He mumbles, low and gentle against your ear.

"What do you mean, why? You're like a clingy little koala! I might not get anything done at this rate!" Truth be told, you did love it when Niki was needy like this, acting like such a baby when in front of the cameras, he was but a "tough boy".

"I can help you with that..." Niki suggests, swaying the two of you side to side. You giggled, "Yes, you will! If only you let go of me and—"

All of a sudden, Niki turns you around and envelops you with his arms once more. It comfortably tightened around your neck, and you came to catch a whiff of his perfume you can recognize miles away.

"Baby, why do you want me to let go so bad? Do you not miss me?"

Niki says, as if you were dismissing him. His tone was rather teasing, "W-what? Of course I do!"

"Then it's okay if I cling to you while you bake?"

With a slight groan, you reluctantly agreed to his antics and turn around. Baking cookies had always been a simple task, which is bound to get tedious now as a Nishimura Riki now clings to you like a little koala bear.

Your ingredients were all complete and arranged, you grabbed a bowl to put the dry ingredients first, and a separate ones for the wet ingredients. All the while, Niki would do just about anything and everything to get you to pay attention to him.

Poking your cheek repeatedly, "Hey! Shh. Stop that." You turn to look at him, to which he only grins.

Then, taking one of the ingredients, "Where's the egg?"

Niki taps you in the shoulder, turns around, and with full confidence— he just... Acts like he's pooping, as mysteriously, and egg comes out of his hands. "Look, I lay eggs now."

He must think he must be so funny because right after, he started stomping his feet, snickering, and laughing so hard over his own joke.

You took the egg from him with a laugh in sake of entertaining him, and cracking the egg into the bowl.

Then, he'd make silly faces as you kneaded the dough.

"Imagine if the dough had a face, this is what it would be making right now."

Niki goes in front of you over the kitchen table, making silly little faces every time your hands came to contact with the cookie dough. He'd obnoxiously widen his eyes, puff his nose and ears, stick his tongue out.

One of his goofy faces made you cringe and laugh loudly, to which Niki smiled, "Heck yeah!"

Then, once you put the cookie dough in the oven, he'd stand in front of it and randomly start breakdancing in the middle of nowhere, pulling out his moves which would normally attract you. Now, it just made you shit in laughter.

"What are you doing?" You say, crossing your arms as Niki b-boyed. "I'm dancing for you, obviously!" He pants, doing flips and stumbling right after.

Thud.

"Oh my gosh! Are you okay?" You quickly come over to him, kneeling in front of his fallen figure, inspecting his leg which had fallen down. Niki didn't speak for a few seconds until, all of a sudden, he tackled you down the ground.

In a very tight, and heavy bear hug.

Hell, this boy put all his strength and weight upon you, encaging you with his legs, and keeping you impossibly close. You could hardly breath!

"Riki! Let me go!" You squirm under his hold, Riki only snorts, "I tricked you there baby! Ha! Take this!"

Riki suddenly started tickling you, and you felt like a worm under his hold. You were thrashing uncontrollably, laughing so immensely as he tickled, and tickled, and tickled.

'S-stop! Nooo!" You manage to mutter in between laughter, and he soon stops, opting to embrace you in the cold, hard apartment floor. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He says, rolling your bodies around like sausages.

Gosh. At times, it hardly felt like you were taking care of a boyfriend, but rather, it felt like you had a child! Nishimura Riki is ridiculously mischievous and childish that sometimes, it felt like you're going to go insane!

The oven timer ticks, and Niki finally lets you out of his grasp. You take the cookies out of the oven, let them to cool as you grabbed some of the ice cream from the freezer.

Niki merely observes as you prepared him a bowl of cookies and vanilla ice cream, smiling when you hand him the bowl. You grabbed your own, and the two of you head back to the couch to laze around for the rest of the night and enjoy the rest of the night with him by your side.

"You baked these cookies so good, damn." Niki says as the two of you faced each other at the couch, eating away the ice cream and cookies combination. You smile and mumble a small thank you, opting to not tease him for annoying you so much as the cookies did taste good.

Once the two of you were finished, you settled your bowls at the coffee table and heaved a sigh, "I won't be seeing you tomorrow anymore, yeah?" you randomly brought up out of the blue, a wave of reality washing over you.

It didn't really matter where Niki had gone to, even if it's a country away, miles away, even just a neighborhood away. At the end of the day, you always missed your annoying little boyfriend terribly.

Niki sensed your sudden change of mood, pulling you closer and placing you atop his lap. He wraps both of your arms around his neck as you lazily hunched over and embraced him.

Niki pats your back in comfort, "I'm still seeing you in the morning, baby, don't worry." He assures, though, you can sense by the tone of his voice that he too, is disappointed.

"I'll miss you."

"I'l miss you too, baby."

You pull back from his embrace, holding his face within your hands. You lovingly caressed it, memorizing every detail and tracing it as if it was his last day on earth. Maybe it is to be, for a month or so, at least.

Niki only hums into your touch, closing his eyes and warming into your feather fingers further. His long fingers roamed around your back, caressing it, too.

"It won't take long, I promise..." He mumbles, opening his eyes and holding one of your hands. You only nodded.

You knew Niki found enjoyment in what he was doing. Performing in front of big crowds, making his name known along with his hyungs— it's all really a matter of accepting the fact that your very clingy boyfriend just had to be away for so long.

But then again, Niki always keeps his promise. Even if it is to be a year away, a decade away, even a millennia, you knew that Nishimura Riki always holds true to what he says.

And you know that by the end of each day, he'll always come back home to you, over shared ice-creams and cookies, over shared laughters and assurance.

And most of all, over a shared lifetime with his one and only girlfriend.

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ END *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

[postsforposting]

that's an incredibly negative view. i don't think people should default to steelman; i do think taking a positive view, especially of toneless plain text, should be the default. it makes for a pleasant atmosphere. unfortunately people, especially online, seem to think the meanest view of those around them is.....a good thing? how it should be??? that there's no other way to do things???

we really can just. not. do that. believing other people mean well is....a pretty basic requirement not only for civility but also for simple geniality.

and again, "it sure can be stated in a negative or entitled way, but that is true of literally everything. that isn't the nature of the sentiments expressed here." i didn't rephrase anything.

the difference is your attitude vs mine about other people that neither of us know. everyone knows a "bad attitude" sours everything, not because the rest of the world is suddenly foul, but because that's what you personally see. most people have the self awareness that's a personal problem and they should not change how they treat other people based on....personal mood. you can feel annoyed while understanding "annoyance and selfishness" is your own miasma and not what others meant.

that's. really the entire thesis. if we're going to declare hate is the default, and it's this hard for people to understand, perhaps we need to demonstrate why that's a bad idea.

"where is the content"

if we interpret the meaning in your way, this is someone who is either new to fandom or to a particular website. it is a normal question to ask. most people in the world never even know settings and manuals exist, let alone look at, understand, or change them: the things that control their experience. for clarity given the nature of this conversation, i do not mean "haha what a fucking entitled jackass" in the sense of your use of "ignorant"; i mean "figuring out and understanding things is hard for most people". let alone people who are new to a thing. asking something like this is normal, expected, and necessary. responding in the tune of "what an asshole" is unkind and establishes a gross atmosphere.

i daresay a lot of people are familiar with the lucky 10,000 comic. everyone likes that, but when it comes time to practice it? yeesh.

you misunderstood what i said above; i don't think it would be useful or correct to dismiss that as ""fucking ignorant"". it sure does make a lot of people feel good to do that though. which is the problem.

even going "where is the content????" is often "i am frustrated that i can't find these wonderful things everyone else easily finds, will someone show me". "where the fuck is everything" is the same idea in a much more combative tone; for some strange reason, it seems like that would be seen LESS negatively given the worldviews in this post.

imo, generally people ask "where is the content" to express that they have noticed there is less now than there used to be. hence: i love this so much, why don't other people.

people write in the style of how they talk when having an in person conversation. generally nobody goes around delicately crafting their punctuation to avoid the slew of wrong interpretations that are possible with any statement. let alone the cultural differences that can contribute to that. people assume you're going to understand them, or at least that you'll ask for clarification and not default to jumping down their throat. like, you know. the way people navigate normal conversations.

i don't know why people should have to put that much effort into what they say, while listeners not only don't but aren't expected to put in any thought to how they're interpreting it. the speaker has to accommodate literally every possible way they could be interpreted, including batshit aggressive ones (which means they have to assume their listeners are both.....ignorant....and nasty? unpleasant way to live.), while the listener gets to assume their knee jerk and negative assumptions are perfect and they can't have possibly misunderstood or inserted things that aren't there?

fuckin weird.

"why has all the hype died down"

if most people understand this, either this person is one of the ones that do not, or they don't mean it strictly literally.

if they do not understand it, again, asking why is a normal and expected thing. lucky ten thousand, yeah? responding negatively to that is....not nice. does not create a pleasant atmosphere. i don't think most people are familiar with serious fandom; most people aren't part of it, meaning they watch a thing, like it and move on without engaging further. the "fandom" people are generally familiar with is juggernauts that have lasted decades, things with dedicated yearly events: things that have never died down and the average person always likes. it is normal to think that if you like a thing, you don't suddenly stop. that's wrong, but it's how people think of fandom.

if they do not mean it literally, imo it usually means something to the effect of "why did people stop liking this". a normal thing to ask, especially if they also don't understand the fad nature that most fandoms go through.

"Why is there no more content why did everyone leave"

follows naturally from the previous. "there is nothing" generally means "i can't find anything". it's a request for help. people are uninclined to phrase it as "please help" because.....a lot of people respond to that with "haha what a fucking ignorant asshole". it should not be hard to see why that's destructive.

it could also mean "there is way less", which again, is normal to wonder. "there is way less" is only asked if you....want more. because you enjoy it. that brings us to

"it's about the blatent dismissal of creators' work and being content-hungry"

which you unambiguously mean in a negative way.

"i am sad that there is less" does require that the speaker enjoy the content and would like more. that is....the opposite of "blatent dismissal". the most common fan question is "will there be a sequel" and "what's the release date". you seem to think those are disgustingly hateful things to ask, which is a bit odd given that most fandoms get upset when their canon content is cancelled.

"i like this so much that i want more" is second breakfast and elevensies type behavior. of course people are.....content hungry. i think it's a bit mean to take gollum's view that pippin and merry are nassssty wicked hobbitses for that. it should be obvious that such an attitude drives people away and makes it feel like their appreciation isn't wanted.

....

i gotta say, i'm tickled pink that people who identify as "serious fans" deny that there can be meaning beside what you personally interpret, especially when the common fandom sentiment is "oh that was a clumsy accident, it doesn't mean anything deeper" while.....inserting all this extra meaning for actual, real, people who haven't had years to craft what they mean. we imbue two seconds of thought with hatred, but nothing for years' worth of a deliberate act?

"there is less" is about those who stopped. it is not about those who remain. it's quite obviously not about you. to answer with "it's not dead, i'm still posting" is to insert yourself where you weren't addressed. sir this is a wendy's. even when it IS a personal question, that's not inherently a demand to perform, it is literally just interest in you and your thoughts. "why" is not a hateful question. and even, EVEN a personal question, you still really can just. not answer at all. regardless of the valence you assign to it.

people are always going to have the same questions as other people, because every day someone new shows up, or someone old has a new thought. reality and your reaction to it are separate things. if they were not, we would have to shout down every kid asking endless whys, since obviously the parent's annoyance and frustration must be synonymous with the kid being a hateful greedy dismissive monster telling its mother she's not good enough, a child who needs to be taught that expressing interest is a sin. bad way to go about interacting with other people, if i do say so myself.

if you don't enjoy the culture of having everything you say reprocessed into its secret and true evil meaning that you obviously totally intended, perhaps we should. just not do that. to other people. as a general rule.

hostility is unpleasant to be around. there shouldn't even be "doubt" to benefit from, but even then, assuming other people aren't evil should not be treated as a sin. whereas doubt literally is a canonical sin.

'Where is all the Deadpool and Wolverine content'

'Why has all the hype died down'

'Why is there no more content why did everyone leave'

Meanwhile the people who are making the content are left feeling insulted because lord forbid we're not enough. Dude stfu and make your own stuff or didn't complain.

Do you see me whining about Boondock Saints? No! Because that's an old franchise and there's not near as much stuff as they're used to be, but I love everything that comes from it. And I don't ever complain.

[justablah56]

they should invent a job that I can do and I don't have to drive super far to get to

[silusvesuius]

g*lmar rly has to be the best skajrim character on the real like even if you don't like him he just is . literally The best one i think......... on dat note i also imagine that he and ulfr*c despite being fairydust BFFs for lyfe genuinely have the worst communication skills ever seen

[icewindandboringhorror]

Everytime I face a new character limit on a website that didn't have them before/used to have really long ones... AUGHHhhh the modern social media world was not made for people like me (lovers of details, rambling, elaboration, thorough explanation, and nuance)

[beneathsilverstars]

I think maybe they’re acting odd enough in Dormont that when Isabeau leaves the favor tree and goes up to the cliff, he stays closer to the town side — looking at Mirabelle and the path to the favor tree — as he considers whether he should talk to anyone else about it, or ask Siffrin if they’re okay once they’re back from the favor tree, or something. And honestly he probably wouldn’t have ended up doing any of those things! But it means he is close enough to see when Siffrin is about to slip on the banana peel, whereas Siffrin didn’t even notice him there, because why would they look for any changes? Nothing ever changes unless they change it by force.

So Siffrin casually strolls towards the peel, and Isabeau shouts, "Woah, Sif, look out—!" and manages to catch him right as his legs go out from under him. Which, wow! That was scary! Good thing he was there, that could’ve been awful, what with the cliff right there and everything!

So now Siffrin can’t use the banana peel; Isabeau threw it away. And they can’t will themself to just jump off the cliff without it. So they resign themself to getting to the house the slow way, but, stars, they do not feel like sitting around Dormont right now. And it wasn’t even the first floor that they needed to go to anyway, so they’d be doing the whole entire night in Dormont, just to end the loop asap anyway! So. Eventually they give up and go for the dagger. But they’ve never used the dagger in Dormont before, and once they decide to use it they don’t waste a lot of time planning, so. They don’t do a good enough job making sure no one is nearby.

And it turns out Odile was right around the corner behind him, and she rounds it just in time to see him raise the knife. She casts slow on him and rushes forward and manages to yank his arm back before he can cut unsalvageably deep, then shouts for help. She sends the nearest villager to get Mirabelle, who hasn’t used any craft yet today, so she’s able to pour everything she has into healing him. Meanwhile Odile goes to get Isabeau and make sure Bonnie stays away until the situation isn’t so gory.

Eventually Mirabelle has Siffrin all healed and cleaned up and situated at the clocktower, and Bonnie is retrieved to start making dinner a little early. And now Odile and Isabeau and Mirabelle have allll evening to talk to Siffrin and try and figure out what’s wrong and how to help. Though Siffrin, of course, is being very unhelpful. They're desperately looking forward to their next chance to loop, and worried they won’t get one, and spiraling about upsetting everyone, but refusing to tell them about the time loops because it doesn’t matter, Siffrin doesn’t want to upset them more, they just! need! a way to loop!!

And of course he doesn’t say any of that out loud. But it’s not hard for the others to pick up that Siffrin wishes they hadn’t stopped him and is looking for a chance to escape, so of course they don't give him the chance. They ask if anything happened during/before his nap, and he insists no, nothing happened, he's fine. They suggest he doesn’t have to — and in fact, probably shouldn’t — go to the house tomorrow, but that really upsets him, because he wants to help them, he doesn’t want them to get hurt without him!! But they don’t want him to get hurt either.

But eventually they’re like, okay, even if we did give you your dagger back tomorrow so you can fight with us in the house, because we trust that you wouldn’t put us in danger, and we’ll keep a close eye on you — what next? We can’t just! Leave you! I mean we can't stop you from leaving but we want to help if you’ll let us!!!

And Mirabelle starts saying, "Maybe you could stay in the Dormont house with me, when it's back to normal? Until you're feeling better? I know everyone here, I could help you find a counselor if you'd be okay with that!" And Odile adds, "Or if you have somewhere to be I could accompany you; I didn’t have any particular plans on where to go next, so I might as well go the same direction as you." And of course Isabeau chimes in, "I really don’t need to get back to Jouvente any time soon — I quit my job, after all. I can stay with you as long as you need, as long as you want." And they ask Siffrin what their plans were, where they’re headed, and. Siffrin can’t come up with an answer that’s specific enough to be believable, not when they’re currently trying to plan specifics. Playing it off with a joke won't work, not this time. He tries to reassure them that they don’t need to change their plans for him, he’ll be fine, he knows they have their own things to do, and he’ll be fine on his own—

But Isabeau says, "You gotta understand why I don’t really believe that right now, Sif. You don’t have to let us stay with you if you don't want, but please don’t lie to us, you're obviously not fine. We want to help, if there’s anything we can do." And Mirabelle realizes she knows something relevant, so she says, "You told me... You told me a couple weeks ago that— this journey was the happiest you’ve ever been." And in the horrible quiet, Odile reaches the inevitable conclusion: "That journey will be over tomorrow, one way or another, and you don't have anything else to keep going for."

And Siffrin — they've been internally freaking out and spiraling this whole time, right? But it was never quite enough to automatically loop back, because— every mistake they made was immediately followed by clear assistance and compassion. Even when they first cut their throat, the moment that they realized they'd been caught was also the moment Odile touched them and then held them, reassured them with uncharacteristic desperation between shouts for help as she used her own coat to staunch the blood.

And now, no matter how horribly guilty and sick he feels that he's forcing his family to stay with him because they mistakenly think he's suicidal, this is them staying with him. It is a way forward.

So. The truth is out. They know that Siffrin was dreading the end of the quest because he had nowhere and nothing and no one to return to. They're wrong that he was about to kill himself over it, technically, except aren't they right about that too? No one knows it, but that was the reason for the loops, and he sure did kill himself far too easily in them.

The others talk about how they enjoyed the journey together, too, and... none of them wanted to part, either, they just hadn't brought it up yet. Odile says, "If I'd just said something sooner... I couldn't have known this would result, and yet... I should've known something was wrong. I'm so sorry I let you feel so alone and hopeless." Isabeau breaks the sorrowful quiet to say, determined, "We'll just have to make it up to you now. Bonnie will need to get back to their sister, right? What if we all accompany them to Bambouche?" And Mirabelle says, "Yes! That would be wonderful! And, you know, I was thinking of going on a pilgrimage soon — Siffrin, would you want to come with me, after we drop Bonnie off?" And of course Isabeau and Odile chime in that they'd love to go too. And, if they're all staying together, Bonnie might be really disappointed to stay behind in Bambouche, but maybe they could ask their sister if the two of them would like to travel for a bit as well...?

And Siffrin just starts sobbing. After a moment Mirabelle can't stand it, she has to at least offer, "Would you like a hug..? No pressure! But if you want one!" She holds her arms out a little in offer, and Siffrin can't stop themself from falling into them, and soon enough even Odile is patting Siffrin's back while Mirabelle and Isabeau hold them. After a bit, they hear Bonnie from outside the door, sullen: "I know you said they need space because they got hurt. But. You're all in there. And dinner is ready..?" And they tell Bonnie to come in, and Bonnie was mad at Siffrin for getting hurt again, but it turns into shock because, "What the crab, since when are we allowed to hug Frin??" And Isabeau says, "Since now, I guess?" And Bonnie hesitates for a moment, but relief that Siffrin is upright wins out, and even as they launch into a lecture they launch themself into the hug and nearly knock everyone over.

And then they're all laughing, and crying, and telling Bonnie about their travel plans. And then Bonnie brings in dinner, and Siffrin is ready to make himself eat it, but his poker face is gone right now and it's obvious he has no appetite for it — even aside from the fact that it's the same clocktower dinner that he's eaten dozens of times in a row, there's the whole recently-healed neck injury thing — and Bonnie's like, "Well, duh, if you're hurt or sick or whatever you need like, plain rice! And soup! And crackers! And lots of water!!" And they rush off to get a little of the extra rice and whip up a quick simple soup. And it's so nice to eat something new after months of the same stuff that Siffrin starts crying again, so of course they all have to hug him again. And eventually he falls asleep like that, surrounded by his family.

... And then they have to go through the house again the next day.

And, actually, at this point Siffrin is so scared of losing all of this. It's what he deserves, after guilting everyone into staying with him — after making Odile see such a horrible sight, making Mirabelle exhaust herself healing them, making Isabeau carry them back to the clocktower, making Bonnie cook them a whole separate meal — but still, he doesn't want to lose it. And he knows that doesn't actually matter, he'll loop again like he always does; if the perfect family loop didn't work, why would this failed loop change anything, this disaster where he didn't help anyone and instead they all helped him? But he wants to stay with them so bad. Can't he pretend, just a little longer, that there's any chance of escaping? Can't he force himself through the entire house again, just in case? Can't he act like this miraculous plan to travel together is possible? Can't he hope, one last time?

At the very least, they can linger. Siffrin can feel the dread building, they can't imagine how they're going to bear waking up in that meadow again, but they can put it off for as long as possible. They take their time to check every item. They try not to zone out, and sometimes they accidentally drift for a bit, but sometimes they listen and they do catch something new, bits of travel planning and bits of worry. They don't even use their strongest attacks unless the battle is looking dicey. They just make their way through the house as slowly as they can without raising suspicion.

Siffrin is terrified the entire time; he tries to hide it but he's so so tired, and he's so tired of hiding it, too. Everyone tries to reassure him, but it's to little success; and honestly, that's fair enough, with the King ahead! But then they beat the king and Siffrin is more scared, not less? And he's starting to feel sick and dizzy, too — the wish's conditions have been fulfilled. Its craft is dissipating, and without that energy the craft exhaustion is starting to hit.

But everyone is determined to help. They remind him that they've promised to keep traveling together, and it sets him off crying because he wants it so bad and he's so scared, so they all hug one more time before heading to Euphrasie. And Siffrin reminds himself, just one more time. He just has to hold onto hope this one, last time. Just in case.

They talk to Euphrasie, Siffrin shaking, one arm around Isabeau and other hand in Bonnie's, Odile right next to them, Mirabelle right ahead. When it's their turn, Siffrin takes a deep breath in and out and steps forward, and Euphrasie starts to talk and then—

Stops to ask if they're alright.

And she says something else to him, but he can barely hear it, because it's something different. It's something different. And then Isabeau is guiding him to sit down and reminding him to breathe, and Euphrasie is discussing something with Mirabelle, concerned, and it's all different.

It's different.

And it stays different for the rest of the day, and they wake up the next day to Bonnie shouting that they all need to pack so they can leave for Bambouche. Together.

:( au where siffrin tries to end a loop early but someone sees in time to stop/heal him. and they’re desperately trying to figure out why he did that and convince him life is worth living, and in that discussion someone suggests traveling together after the loops. and then ofc they’re keeping a very close eye on him after that, so, he doesn’t get another chance to reset. then they beat the king! so! conditions met! that’s the last loop! the one where they all saw siffrin try to kill themself! the one where the party surely only agreed to stay with them out of guilty obligation. but he’s selfish so of course he won’t do the right thing and refuse to go along with it. :( :( :(

[starbuck]

i think it’s kind of hysterical that - out of any piece of media that could possibly have a straight relationship that passes the sniff test for me - it’s this one, considering like *gestures to the misogyny*

[gamebunny-advance]

Random Thought

So, a while back I posted a pic of all the Pokemon dudes that I like despite knowing basically nothing about Pokemon, and it's become a very shocking fact to me that despite their apparent popularity, the train dudes do basically nothing in their home game.

[mainfaggot]

how do you cut someone off

[milfbrainrot]

thinking a lot about separatist attitudes on here that have done more harm than good in the past

remembering how when i was younger it was common to reblog posts about discrimination etc with a disclaimer in ur tag that you don't personally experience what's being talked about, or at least something on ur blog listing out ur privileges. and like, privacy concerns aside, i also remember when it then became Problematic to do tags because it's a Reminder to the minority op that... other people exist and were trying to make the post about themselves or something?

like maybe the argument was that it came off like a way to get points for reblogging a post about oppression while not experiencing it urself, even though... in my experience the reason we did that was because our identity labels determined what we could/couldn't do in the eyes of our surveilling mutuals. if i reblogged a post about racism without clarifying my own identity, people might assume i wasn't white and put my opinions through a lens i shouldn't have had, because i also fully believed the idea that only people who experience a thing can have valid opinions on it.

it also determined whether you were Allowed to reblog posts with certain slurs, or reblog posts about something as simple as listening to music if it was from a blog with bpd in the handle but you didn't have bpd because listening to music with a mental illness makes it... different somehow. so you needed to be as transparent as possible so people could judge your morality appropriately and it was normal to want that because otherwise what are you trying to hide and don't you want to improve? etc. and i do think, superiority complexes aside, people did think they were doing a good thing when they'd send me asks like "hey you reblogged a video where a black person says the n slur but you're white so you shouldn't be communicating that by extension!!!"

like of course we have to keep our own privileges in mind when discussing certain topics. it does have an impact, something something intersectionality. but the culture around this being SO micromanagy and invasive seemed to create more divides because relating to people with different experiences was Bad and trying to be supportive was impossible to do in The Right Way.

we need to be more critical of the info we get, of course! but being in a tumblr sphere where you could only listen to minorities about their oppression meant that when some black blogger said it was fetishistic to find people of color attractive, i went "okay i won't do that then!!" instead of realizing... hey maybe barring myself off from finding anyone who isn't white attractive as an attempt to not be racist is in fact looping right back around to being racist. you need to be mindful of what that attraction entails and how to go about relationships fairly etc, but it was basically asking us to find people of color unattractive????? which kinda sounds fucked up!

and that doesn't even begin to cover how so many minorities have different opinions on things, and then i later realized if i could be wrong and change my opinions about things related to my own identity that's not a solid mindset to have. "listen to minorities instead of platforming oppressors about these matters" got totally misconstrued into listening to takes that make no sense from 15yr olds who had been identifying as lesbians for 2 months total, because ur made out to be an idiot who can't think for urself if you don't share an experience. i say this as a lesbian but lesbians seemed to spearhead so much aphobia that it was justified because welp, gotta listen to lesbians and other queer people about this even though they haven't yet unpacked the personal issues that come along with intersectionality yet! and ofc, ignoring the queer people who did support aces and aros because that was decided to be homophobic to do.

i think we can go forward into these conversations consciously without going so hard about it that we end up creating new walls between us and anyone different, but thinking it's okay because These Walls Say I'm A Good Person For It. like, back to the disclaimer tagging, i feel like if i made a post abt lesbian stuff and ppl were tagging it with a disclaimer abt being straight it would be weird but appreciated that it's solidarity from people i wouldn't have expected it from at the time.

i also think that having microlabels and split attraction and all these different ways of letting people embrace queer relatability (for example, since this applies to some things more than others) even if they're not the traditional definition of the label is a good thing because more investment and support for an oppressed community can only be a good thing in the end. but no, you can't have an icon of a character of color if ur white, even though doing so would help other people find the show and therefore support it!

we are all so much more similar than we are different and as long as people are mindful of their experiences versus those of others in the right contexts, and as much as i get why people did want to treat their tumblr circles like locked forums where they wouldn't have to deal with cis people asking questions or having misconceptions on their posts... i just don't think the infighty/hostile ways we went about it and still do go about it sometimes ended up as helpful as people treated it to be.

but whatever, tumblr is tumblr.

[xoxo-ren-xoxo]

it's controversial to say this i guess but i genuinely believe last life was the least interesting life series season and youre all lying to me about enjoying it

[chiropteracupola]

the amount of time I spend on tumblr dot com has given me quite the set of standards when it comes to artworks on the theme of 'Trans Angel', and actual museums are failing to meet those standards quite spectacularly.

[hauntingblue]

Choose your favourite reaction

[jon-withnoh]

There have been too many big life events in the past week. I am sleeping so badly. My brain is not processing.