#with content like this it's truly not a phase mom

[kindahoping4forever]

📸: Ryan Fleming

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

We need a part two of the harley quinn mother headcanons!

SUGAR & SPICE!

pairings ⸺ Mother! Harley Quinn x Teen! Reader.

(PLATONIC FIC)

¿Request? Yes!

This is a Headcanon!

sinopsis ⸺ Every mother reaches the moment when she sees her chick starting to become independent from the nest. Harley loved you from the moment she found you in that abandoned alley, and now she finds it hard to accept that you are drifting away.

If she knew why you were leaving her behind, she would probably be thinking about putting Robin in the oven.

warnings ⸺ Fluff and Angst, Platonic Cuddling, ¿OOC Harley? Idk, Disturbing Content, Street Fights, Violence, Trauma.

A/N ── Honestly, I didn't plan on making a continuation of that headcanon, but since you asked (and your requests are sacred to me), here it is! Shoutout to @animequeen4 for the inspiration too!

When you grow up as the child of one of the most notorious supervillains in Gotham, things get a bit complicated. Harley knew this since you entered school, and especially since she separated from the Joker. She had prepared for everything: to protect you from clowns, snakes, and even snakes disguised as clowns. But what she didn't see coming, what truly drove her crazy, was the biggest challenge of all: your adolescence.

Harley noticed it almost immediately. At first, it was small things. Like how you no longer wanted to listen to the music she played at full volume in the lair. Instead, you started listening to your own songs, the ones she described as "unbearable noise." Then came the decoration of your room, which went from posters of heroes and villains to something "weird," according to Harley. “Since when do you like bats so much?” she would say with an eyebrow raised. But what broke her heart the most was when you stopped letting her dress you. She got frustrated every time she tried to put something on you that she thought looked great, and you would just say, "No, mom, I don't like that anymore."

But the worst, the worst of all, was when you entered high school. You made friends. Friends whose names Harley didn't even know. Horrible! For someone like her, who was used to knowing all the details of your life, that was the worst that could happen. And on top of that, you no longer asked for permission to do things! The worst part was that she had raised you "well" (according to her criteria), so she didn't understand how you ended up at the police station several times for vandalism and disturbances.

"I raised you better than this!" she would shout, completely indignant, while signing the papers to get you out of another detention. Inside, she knew you were going through that rebellious phase, but that didn't make it any easier to cope.

One day, Harley stood at the door of your room, frustrated because you didn't even ask her for help with your math problems anymore. She stared at you, her hands on her hips, and exclaimed, “Look, little birdie, I get you! I know you're growing up and all that, but can you please stop doing it so fast? You're slipping through my fingers!”

It was a mix of desperation and tenderness. Harley wasn't ready to see you grow up. She knew you were becoming more independent, but in her heart, you would always be her little one. And even though she got frustrated with all these changes, with every new friend or every time you snuck out to go to a party, deep down she just wanted to make sure you were okay.

Puberty was a roller coaster, and Harley was starting to realize that nothing in her villain life had prepared her to deal with it. The first thing she noticed was that you no longer wanted to go out with her for taco Fridays with the girls. Those days when they went shopping, wore neon clothes, and had laughs while window shopping stopped being your thing. Harley watched you from the doorframe, taco in hand, saying, “What happened to my buddy? Where's the kid who loved to eat until stuffed full of carnitas?”

Sometimes, Harley tried not to take it to heart, but it was hard. She crumbled a little every time you locked yourself in your room instead of watching her roll around on the sofas with the Birds of Prey or with the Sirens, planning their next crazy scheme. It was then that she realized she needed help. So, as a good mother (or as close as she could get), she turned to the only person who could understand her frustration... Catwoman.

But the chat with Selina wasn’t exactly helpful. “Harley, sweetheart, I don’t mix with kids. I don’t know what you want me to tell you, mine has four legs and purrs,” Selina said, taking a sip of her martini while checking out a new leather whip. It was a "thanks, but no thanks," and Harley left with more questions than answers.

Next stop: Ivy. Harley had high hopes that Ivy, with her serenity and green wisdom, would give her the key to understanding you better. But Ivy just shrugged and said, “Plants grow, Harley. Just like kids. You can't stop the natural process.” Harley frowned. “And what do I do when they doesn’t want to tell me who he's with all day?” Ivy, very zen, replied, “You could always... spy ” It wasn't exactly the help she was looking for.

After exhausting her resources with the girls, Harley did the unthinkable: she turned to Batman. Yes, Batman! In a conversation that turned out to be as awkward as it was effective, the Dark Knight explained to her what he had learned from raising his multiple Robins: “It's part of growing up. You just have to be there, but give them space. You can't control everything.”

Harley, of course, took it with her usual dramatism: “Give them space!? But they doesn’t even want to go for tacos anymore!?” It was as if the world had turned upside down.

Meanwhile, at school, things weren’t going smoothly either. Your new “friends” were... questionable. People that Harley, if she had known, would have kicked out. But, for your luck (or misfortune), those friends didn’t last long. In the end, the problems they brought with them distanced you from them, and unexpectedly, you found yourself spending more time with Damian again. Harley, of course, had no idea about this. To her, Damian was just the rude boy you sometimes talked to.

There was always something about him that intrigued you, and despite his constant grumbling and "I don't care" attitude, you managed to see beyond that. Between talks about anything (and often about nothing), Damian became someone important to you. Harley had no idea about this mini romance, because if she did, she would probably already be plotting a plan to scare the Wayne boy. “If you think he’s cute, go for it,” she had once said with a mischievous wink. And although she didn't think you would take it seriously, here you were, emotionally entangled with Batman’s son, even though at that time you didn't know he was Batman's son.

It all started with an idea that, in retrospect, wasn’t the best: throwing paint cans at Robin. In your defense, it sounded like a funny prank at the moment. What you didn't calculate was that Robin, being Damian Wayne, wasn’t exactly easy to evade. You ran as if your life depended on it, covering almost twenty kilometers, and the most frustrating part was that he wasn’t even sweating. Every time you turned to see if you had lost him, there he was, impeccable, with that unfriendly look and his expression of "When I catch you, say goodbye to your legs."

When he finally threw you to the ground, ready to give you the lesson of your life, you looked at him more closely. That perfectly styled hair, that look of a thousand deaths, and the sarcasm in every phrase... "Damian?!" you shouted, more out of disbelief than fear. Because, of course, it turns out your boyfriend wasn’t just a rude jerk, but also the damn Robin. The pieces finally fell into place, and you didn’t know whether to laugh or feel betrayed. In the end, you did both.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he reprimanded you with that authoritative voice he usually reserved for criminals and his family. "Throwing paint? Seriously?"

The funny thing is that, even though you were completely exhausted from the chase, your brain didn’t stop working. So instead of apologizing like a normal person, you shrugged and said, "At least it wasn't green paint. That would have been offensive." He didn’t find it so funny.

From that moment on, the romantic dates became something much more... practical. Damian decided that if you were going to get into trouble, at least you should know how to defend yourself, so starry night strolls turned into intense self-defense training sessions. "Nothing says 'I love you' like a well-placed punch," you thought every time Damian corrected your stance. And although at first you considered it the least romantic of gestures, there was something sweet about how he insisted on keeping you safe.

Of course, these "dates" weren’t just training. Eventually, you met Jon Kent, the super-sweet boy who contrasted so much with Damian's serious personality. The trio you formed was a disaster waiting to happen, yet somehow it worked. Between secret missions, night escapades, and 'lots of fun,' the three of you became inseparable. But it was all super secret, because if Batman found out, well, the reprimand wouldn’t be exactly gentle. And Harley... well, don’t even think about what Harley would say if she found out.

But Harley, being Harley, didn’t take long to notice the changes. For her, it was alarming to see how her kid, her little birdie, was starting to come home late through the window, with two colors in his hair that reminded her a bit of her own lifestyle, and some bruises that you, of course, tried to hide. "Did you fall down the stairs again? Seriously?" she would ask skeptically while helping you tend to your wounds.

Her biggest fear wasn’t that you would get into minor trouble, but that he would have come back. Harley began to suspect that the Joker had found you, and that kept her in a constant state of alert. She watched you more closely, trying not to show it, but it was obvious. Nights with Damian always seemed to fly by. Between training, talks, and that connection you both shared, the hours slipped away without either of you noticing. That was how it happened that one particular night, after a long and exhausting session, he decided to walk you home. Not that you needed it, you were perfectly capable of getting home on your own (or so you said), but Damian liked to make sure you got home safely. Plus, it was an excuse to spend more time together.

It was already four in the morning, and you were ready to say goodbye with a kiss when suddenly, three giant hyenas sprang out from under your bed, and Harley, in full ninja mode, dropped from the ceiling with a baseball bat in hand. "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!"

You had to close the window, leaving Damian outside, to prevent your mom and the hyenas from getting to the "mom, chill," you tried to calm her, putting yourself between them. "It's not what it looks like."

"Oh no! It looks like you're turning into a mini-Harley with a boyfriend and everything, and I'm not going to sit back and watch how they break your heart like that stupid clown broke mine!"

But you managed to slow her down, and with Harley calmed down (more or less), the tension of the moment seemed to dissolve, but she didn’t stop there. The next morning, she showed up at the Batcave (Only God knows how she found the Batcave), furious, and ready to confront Batman for allowing his son to "seduce" her little birdie. "What kind of father lets his son stay out late with my kid?! This is unacceptable!"

Bruce, who was busy with his screens, barely looked up. He listened to Harley’s furious monologue while maintaining his typical calm posture, nodding from time to time. When Harley finished, he just raised his thumb calmly, as if giving his approval. "Damian has good taste," was all he said.

"That doesn’t help me, Bats!" Harley exclaimed, frustrated. But Bruce, in his minimalist style, simply added, "You... should spend more time with your kid, Harley. Don’t worry so much. And if you need help, just let me know."

Harley was left speechless. It wasn’t the response she expected, but deep down, she knew Batman was right. She sighed and, resigned, left without more than a warning for Bruce: "Just because you told me that doesn’t mean I won’t hit you with my bat if things go wrong."

But the truth is that as Harley made her way home, she reflected a little. You were growing up, and although she didn’t like it, it was part of life. You couldn’t be her little one forever, and while the fear of losing you was always present, she knew she had to trust you. After all, she had raised you well (in her own way), and now she could only let you fly a little, like that little bird she often mentioned.

Back at home, she found you lying on the couch, still with some paint in your hair from the prank on Damian. Harley watched you for a while, noticing how much you had grown. Not just in height, but in attitude. The way you had started to move through the world, making your own decisions, forming relationships outside the little universe she had built for you. And that, even though she sometimes denied it, hurt her a little. She sat on the edge of the couch, sighing as she stroked your messy hair.

Harley noticed it before anyone. First, you stopped getting excited about taco Fridays with the girls or going out to dye your hair neon. Then, it was the uncomfortable silence when you no longer sought her advice for anything. You had become more independent, but Harley only saw you drifting away.

Harley sighed and looked at you with a mix of nostalgia and worry. “You’re growing up... and even though I hate it, I know I can’t stop it. I just want you to know that you will always be my little birdie. No matter how big you get, you will always have a place with me.”

You stayed silent, noticing how difficult it was for her to say it. Harley had been many things, but she had never stopped being your mother. You smiled at her and nodded, feeling a familiar warmth in your chest. "I love you too, mom. I promise I’m not drifting away, I’m just... growing."

Harley gave you a tight hug, and in that moment, you knew that even though everything might change, you would always find that common ground, whether it was stealing marshmallows or just sharing a night under the stars. "Puberty sucks," Harley joked, and for the first time in a long time, you both laughed together.

As the hug lingered, you felt how the outside world faded away, leaving only Harley and you in a bubble of safety and love. "I’ll be here, always ready for you, even if sometimes I’m a little... crazy,” she replied with a soft laugh. “But you know that’s what makes everything more fun, right?”

You nodded, and inside, the worry you had felt about drifting away from her faded. There was comfort in knowing that even though the road ahead might be complicated and full of challenges, you had a beacon lighting your way. A mother who, with her craziness and unconditional love, would always guide you home.

"Let’s promise to do more things together, then," you said with determination. "No matter if it’s stealing candy or painting our nails bright colors. There will always be time for that."

"Deal," said Harley, raising her pinky as if sealing a pact. You smiled and linked it with yours. The connection you shared was stronger than any challenge you could face.

"And when it’s time to face the world, I’ll be your ally," she added, a spark of determination shining in her eyes. "Because we will be a team, always."

After that, everything changed, but for the better. Learning to divide your time between everything you loved wasn’t easy, but you knew you would succeed. After all, you had the strongest support: that of your strange yet endearing family, that of your partner, and above all, that of the best mother you could have ever dreamed of.

A/N ─── Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to request anything, don't hesitate to ask. I read all of your comments and questions!

Take a Bath!

[imthepunchlord]

Hand Holding

Read more here.

.

For Momo, it was amusingly endearing how the simplest things would fluster Okarun so much. Like hand holding. A thing all couples did. A thing she wanted to do, and she knows he wants to as well, with his shy attempts to reach for her hands. 

And when they do, it’s nice. 

His touch is gentle and timid, a sharp contrast to Momo’s confident and affectionate grasp. And sometimes, his grip would tighten, as if there was a desperation to hold her, to keep her hand in his. 

And while Momo would notice that clear want, he was always the first to let go, often quickly, as if the flusteredness of such a simple touch was too much. 

On some level, Momo was impatient. 

Of all the things they’ve gone through, holding each other, Okarun often ending up on top of her (even nude once!), and just how much physical contact they have; holding hands was apparently too much? 

Momo thinks it should be the easiest thing. 

But she also considers that this is a first for Okarun. 

His first friend. 

His first crush and love. 

And now his first girlfriend. 

There’s a lot he’s easing himself into learning and adjusting. 

And she’ll take their baby steps as wins. She likes it when he gathers the courage to hold her hand, likes it when he matches her in grip and want, as if he was touch starved and her hand alone gave him all he wanted. And she genuinely liked holding his hand. She could feel the strength he developed in his hand, but he always held her so gently, as if afraid to break it. 

In comparison to her first boyfriend, that stupid tuna, this was so much nicer. Momo recalls she got jerked and dragged along instead of simply just enjoying the touch and moment together. 

But she does with Okarun, at least when he’s able to hold her hand. 

And one day soon, she knows it’ll be natural. That Okarun will be comfortable and confident enough to do so, she just has to be patient. 

God knows he has endless patience for her and her antics. 

It seems though, that this night, with the moon full and bright, her wants were answered, though not entirely how she wanted them to be. 

Stepping out of the maid cafe, she wasn’t surprised to find Okarun waiting for her. She was surprised to see him in his yokai form, white hair blowing in some unnatural wind, staring out into the world vacant like there was nothing he truly saw before him. 

“Okarun?” she prompted, drawing near.

Lazy red eyes slid her way before he turned to face her. “Done?” he asked in his deep drawl. 

“Yeah, but why are you transformed?” 

He heaved out the loudest sigh. “It’s my moon time…” 

“Oh, right,” Momo said, glancing up at the full moon. Grandma confirmed that yokai strength did echo the lunar phases, growing stronger during full moons, and for Okarun and Aira, it meant their yokai power would manifest and transform them out of their control. 

As the full moon often came out during the night, there haven’t been that many issues with this. At least, not on Momo’s end. She can’t speak for their own home life. 

Momo had a start as Okarun reached out, his hand coming to touch her lightly, impatient to hold her hand but waiting for that permission. With a beam, Momo laced their fingers, and Okarun quickly engulfed her hand with his larger hand and held with gentle tightness, like she was some treasure that could be stolen from him. 

It dawned on Momo that this was the first time she held his hand in his yokai form. His hand was bigger, easily dwarfing hers, and his fingers were longer as were his nails. Momo didn’t feel uneasy with his hold like this, he was just as gentle as any other time. 

In spite of initiating the touch, Okarun stood still, seemingly content to just stand around and hold her hand. 

“Shall we?” Momo asked. 

Okarun just hummed, staring at her.

Used to him staring at her openly in this form, Momo led the way, starting to fill the air with chatter. 

“I think the plan tonight was crab, but knowing Grandma and Turbo Granny, they probably ate it all.” Momo made a face at the likely true fact. But that was how it was in the Ayase home. At meal time, it was a first come, first serve. 

“Bummer,” Okarun replied. 

“Are you hungry?” Momo asked. 

“I could eat…” 

Momo bounced about giddily, Okarun’s arm jerking and moving about with her as he refused to let go. “Then let’s go eat our own crab!” 

“Sounds good, yo.” 

Okarunw as nearly toppled over in Momo’s rush for food, having just the place in mind. They got themselves a booth, placed their order, and Momo started to go off for the events of her work day, still holding hands with Okarun much to her glee. 

Despite dating for a near month, Okarun was not able to hold her hand for long, so this was rather nice. 

Until the food came. 

“Mmmm, that smells so good,” Momo declared in delight, drooling at the steaming red crab legs before her. “Thank you very much!”  she declared and was ready to start pick up a leg—  

— only to find one of her hands isn’t free. 

It was still, quite firmly, in Okarun’s grasp. 

“Okarun, I need my hand,” Momo stated, giving him a dangerous look while she tried to tug her hand free. 

“But I missed you, Momo-chan,” he replied, ignoring her glare and refusing to let go. 

“You can hold my hand after dinner,” Momo said, now trying to grapple his hand off of hers. 

No one will come between an Ayase and their food… 

Okarun groaned. “That sounds like a long time to wait, yo.” 

“Dinner won’t take that long!” Momo snapped, baring her teeth at him.

Okarun was unphased. He replied, “It will be for me…” 

“Okarun! I don’t need this right now!” 

She was just starting to consider biting his hand outright when Okarun shifted, sliding around their curved booth to sit next to her, his free hand coming to her crab legs. Momo was about to go feral at the thought that Okarun was going to steal her food when his long nail slid over the shell, cutting the leg open and revealing the steaming meat within. 

Momo drooled. 

Oh, it looked so good… 

“Does that help?” he asked.

Momo licked her lips, but turned to him to stress, “I still need two hands to eat.” 

“What if I fed you, yo?” 

Momo went stiff, her cheeks starting to blush. She turned away, suddenly feeling a little shy. “Um, I guess we could try?” she shyly agreed. 

With his free hand, he used a fork to pluck some meat free and offered it to her. Momo took, humming in delight as the flavor danced on her tongue. And by the small, happy sound from the small little gesture, a switch seemed to go off in Okarun’s head. He suddenly perked attention, watching intently as she ate.

Not that Momo noticed, too happy having some crab. 

When she opened her eyes, he had another piece ready for her. 

No way Momo was going to refuse. 

But, after a few bites of bliss, she came to realize Okarun wasn’t eating at all, he was just focusing on feeding her. 

Not taking the offered food, she asked, “Aren’t you going to eat?” 

“After you,” he replied, still waiting for her to accept the next bite. In truth, even if there was a twinge of hunger, he was ready to bring his plate over and keep feeding her. Instinctively, it just felt right. 

Momo narrowed her eyes at him. “But you were hungry, weren’t you, Okarun?” 

“Yes,” he confirmed, waving the fork about, trying to tempt her to keep eating. 

“Then eat your crab.” 

“But you had a full day of work.” 

Momo plucked the fork from his fingers, turning it to him, pressing the meat to his lips. “How about I take a turn feeding you?” 

Okarun went stiff. 

Oh my, Momo thought, that is the most torn expression she’s ever seen on yokai Okarun’s face. 

And torn he was. 

The thought of Momo feeding him shot delight and warmth through him, but there was a need to offer her food, to feed and provide for her. An instinct to insist that this was what he must do, even as hunger poked at the back of his mind, the want to feed and provide for her was stronger. To prove to his heart’s desire that he could provide. That he was reliable. As much as he loved her offering him food in return, offering her own promise to care for him, he really wanted to be the one to stress this message. 

As Okarun tried to work through his inner turmoil, Momo had only so much patience for his struggle before she turned the fork around and ate the crab herself. 

That seemed to jolt Okarun out of his dissonance, gawking slightly at her choice before slouching over in defeat. “What a bummer…” he bemoaned. 

He missed his chance to feed and provide for her. 

He missed his chance to be fed by her. 

How terrible. 

He wanted to go home…

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Momo scolded lightly, rolling her eyes at him. At least her hand was free, and she took the chance to handle her own crab legs how she wanted. Plucking the meat out, she offered it to him again, watching his red eye flicker to attention. “Are you going to eat it this time?” 

He eyed the offered crab for a few seconds, torn again between wants and instinct, before deciding that wants mattered more. 

And this was what she wanted. 

Who was he to refuse her? 

He sat up and grasped her hand again, accepting the crab, his lips tickling her fingers. It sent a slight pleasant tingle up Momo’s arm.  

Momo beamed, satisfied that she got him to eat and for the slight kiss on her fingertips. 

Only for that satisfaction to falter when she realized she couldn’t move her hand. Okarun had it once again, and refused to let go. 

“Okarun!” she half whined, half scolded. 

“I want more food, Momo-chan,” Okarun lightly demanded, opening his mouth expectantly. 

“I need both my hands!” she snapped. 

“But I want to hold your hand, Momo-chan.” 

“Okaruuuun!”

[cowboyjen68]

Hello, Jen! I hope you’re having a lovely day today. 💞

I’m not sure if you’ve ever experienced this, but I feel like there’s a specific kind of loneliness that comes with being a lesbian. Having a sexuality that stems from the absence of men makes me feel very removed from other people, sometimes even other queer people. Have you ever felt that way? How do you handle that? As much as I love being a lesbian, sometimes I yearn to be attracted to men just so I feel a little less lonely.

I would say I have felt the isolation and loneliness you are talking about even in LGBT+ spaces.

In high school many of the girls around me were "boy crazy" and they were at once made to feel bad for that and praised. It was weird to me as I watched them talk about how great boys were only to also hear them in secret being grossed our OR worse, scared of the boys they publicly "chased".

Since I felt the no real need get the attention of boys but knew it was expected I thought it was a phase. That we were all like of faking it until the attraction was real. That set me up to very often second guess any feelings of sexuality towards women, thinking it was me misinterpreting the way everything was supposed to play out.

As I got older most of my friends in college were gay men or women who dated women but did NOT use lesbian and almost all of them them went on to marry men while the gay men continued on as gay men. This made me feel like perhaps I was the odd one out. I did have an RA who was out and open but I was skeptical I could ever be as brave or confident in my sexuality as she was. What happens if I too was in a phase and had to leave behind any woman I formed a relationship with only to grow up and marry a man?

I literally was waiting for the "phase" my mom and my peers and media was telling me I was in to finally end. Thankfully (because I LOVE being a lesbian) it was not a phase. The phase we being unsure and repressed about it.

The good news that I can impart from experience is that the more lesbians you meet the more you see that you are not alone and we can experience different things and still deeply connect on our sexuality. It gets less lonely as you get more life under your belt and truly love your sexuality as a lesbian for things that media can't explain but other lesbians can. The deep connection to women, the intimacy that is mutual and so warm it makes your entire body and mind content while in each other's arms.

I used to want to be straight just because it looked easier and safer. Now I would take on hell or high water to stay just as a I am.

[ashxketchum]

Some consolidated thoughts on the new Digimon announcement:

Since it's set to Brave Heart, which is originally 4:13 long, assuming that they add an intro scene and round it off to 5 mins, I think that it's best to not have high expectations of the amount of content they will cover.

Having every Digidestined (including 02 kids) get substantial screen time is the highest bar I will set. If this requirement is fulfilled I will personally consider the video a success.

I can't seem to land on one solid reason for why we are getting a PV instead of a third movie to truly tie off the series (giving space for the Reboot version to take off into their journey so we're all like 68 and still watching & arguing about Digimon lol). I've seen a few comments about 02TB not performing well enough to warrant a third part, which I don't feel is the case because that move was even released in India, a rare occurrence, so the global popularity was definitely felt considering Kizuna was hit by the pandemic in this department.

I'm leaning more towards creative differences, because Kakudo has made it quite obvious that his vision does not align fully with the narrative that Kizuna, then 02TB have built. It's entirely possible that Seki and Kakudo just couldn't sign off on the actual plot presented to make a third movie, and decided to do their own thing hence the shorter format.

One staff at NYCC was introduced as being responsible for heading the new Digimon team, which does give me the hope that another anime series (REBOOT SEASON 2!!!) is in the works and they were just waiting for the 25th Anniversary projects to tide over before announcing it.

Onto the actual content of the video, I think for the fans that enjoyed Kizuna, especially the open ending (I'm Fans) a half-assed explanation of how Taichi and Yamato get back together with Agumon and Gabumon will be disappointing. That said, I don't think we'll really get an explanation for it but I do think the video can start off with Taichi and Yamato reuniting with their partners.

However, the tone set by 02TB implies that these guys are also well settled in their lives even without their partner Digimon, so for them to rush back into battle something HUGE would need to disrupt that flow, but can they even explain & sustain a huge occurrence like that in 4-5 mins? I don't want to answer this question lol.

Personally, I wouldn't mind a more laidback take, which leaves a lot of space for fans to interpret what happened, rather than just shoving sequence after sequence of important moments in high speed. Showing Taichi and Yamato and other older kids just going about their lives as adults and then there is that moment when they're hit by a nostalgic memory of their partners which starts off their path to reunion. I understand the need for having a villain for Taichi and Yamato to join forces and battle, but I'm totally okay with a more nuanced, slice-of-life version which hits home for all older Digimon fans currently struggling with adulting.

And finally, the controversial (still traumatized by it) Epilogue. I would prefer it if the point of this video is to show the reunion of the Digidestined and their partners, with the implication that this will lead to the epilogue shown in 02. But I also fear that in order to fit in the societal standard of "adulting", and with Seki being a part of this team most likely, they'll definitely add the married couples with kids tropes.

Keeping shipping aside, I think that showing Sora, Mimi, Miyako and Hikari in their exploration phase during Kizuna/02TB did wonders for their characterisations. Rather than shoehorning all of them into wives/mothers/tradfem roles, we actually got a glimpse of how they will always continue to break barriers and moulds, which is at the core of how every Digigirl was written originally. Still, as life goes on people do change so even if we see Mimi with a typical cooking show or Miyako the Mom, I wouldn't be as upset because Kizuna/02TB already gave us a good glimpse of how the girls are capable of forging their own paths, regardless of any male presence in their lives.

But jk we all know this is going to be a TaiYama fest so Idk why I'm even worrying over my girls, I will be grateful if we get Mimi on screen for more than 10 seconds 😂

So that's my thoughts, open for discussion, not condescending arguments 🫶🏻

[kiwwia-wiwwia]

God Must Hate Me

A call to your mother goes horribly wrong. Luckily, Matt is there to help you pick up some of your broken pieces.

Listened to God Must Hate Me by Catie Turner and decided to project into my writing!

Matt murdock x reader, hurt/comfort, bisexual!reader Word count: 1.8k Warnings: swearing, religious trauma lol, self-loathing, implied CSA EDIT: I know Catholicism is a part of Christianity!!! This is just based on my parents and how they talked about other denominations :)

Your shoulders shook as you slid down the wall, silent sobs wracking your body. One hand was clutching your phone, the other clapped over your mouth, desperate to contain any noise that might slip out. Sinner, your mother had called you. Hedonist. Sodomite. Her words looped over and over in your mind, drowning out all other thoughts. 

You wouldn’t have called in the first place had it not been for your sister. She texted you the night before saying that she was back home caring for your elderly father who had caught the flu. She said that your mother wouldn’t stop talking about you, complaining that you never called, that she didn’t know anything about your life. You spent that night tossing and turning, contemplating whether it was worth getting back in contact with her. Your relationship with your mother had always been strained, considering the abuse you endured in your childhood, but you didn’t hate her. You couldn’t. You felt a sense of guilt in pushing her away, as if you were abandoning a debt you owed.

What pushed you over the edge was a text from your father this morning. 

Hi pumpkin. I miss your smile. I’m a little under the weather, and I’d love a visit from my girl. Hope all is well. Love, Dad.

Despite everything your mother had put both of you through, you and your father were always close. You had talked to Matt, sharing your dilemma. On one hand, you didn’t really want to speak to your mother. On the other hand, your father was getting old, and you didn’t know how many more visits you had with him. He had always been delicate, getting sick easily and hurting himself by accident. He was also the only person besides your sister who truly understood you until Matt, and you missed him.

“Give them a call,” Matt suggested. He looked so beautiful, his hair catching the sunlight from the window and his body draped over the armchair. His hand lazily grasped a mug, steam drifting up from the warm coffee. “If the call goes well, go over and visit. I’ll come with you, if you want.”

You chewed on your lip anxiously. “And… if it doesn’t go well?” Your fingers picked idly at the rug below you. You were seated on the floor, resting your head against his leg as you sipped your tea. This was your unofficial weekend tradition, the two of you seated in this position while you talked about… well, whatever you needed to talk about. Anything that didn’t get brought up during the week, a dream one of you had, a funny story you had from work. Mornings like this were sacred, the peace and domesticity somehow washing away any other worries. In these moments, nothing else existed except you and Matt, your own little corner of heaven.

He ran his hand through your hair, slowly and deliberately raking his fingers over your scalp until you sighed in contentment. “Then I’ll be here for that, too,” he hummed.

Now, you found yourself wishing you had never said anything in the first place. All you wanted was to talk to your parents, check up on them, maybe even test the waters of a possible visit. Instead, you were berated for your lifestyle, called a whore and a sinner and told you were destined for hell. 

“And how’s your love life? Have you finally found a nice man or are you still in your lesbian phase?” You bristled at the comment, knowing your mother never took your sexuality seriously. Your coming out had been a disaster and had resulted in you staying with a friend for two months because your mother couldn’t stand the sight of you. “I’m bisexual, mom, that’s not a phase. But… yeah, I met someone,” you admitted. Your mother scoffed on the other end of the line, which you pointedly chose to ignore. “His name is Matthew, he’s a lawyer here in Hell’s Kitchen.”

“Such an awful name for a city. Why do they call it that, anyways? It couldn’t have been heaven’s kitchen?” You kept quiet, doing your best to push off the inevitable argument as your mother plowed on. “It’s good that you’ve come to your senses and met a boy. Where does he work? Is he Christian? Does he want kids?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice. “He runs his own firm, Nelson and Murdock, he’s actually over there right now to grab some paperwork. I don’t know if he wants kids, we haven’t really thought about it. I only just moved in with him, and no, he’s not Christian. He’s Catholic, goes to mass every week.” There was a long silence before your mother finally spoke again.

“You… you moved in? As in… you live together?” Her tone was as if you had just told her that you shoved someone off of a building. “Yeah, I was staying over so much that we figured it wasn’t worth spending money on an apartment I don’t live in.” You arched a brow at her sharp intake of breath. “Mom? You okay?”

“Honey,” she said, her words dripping with venom. “Are you having sex with this man? Before marriage?” You couldn’t help the choked laugh that escaped your throat. “Mom, it’s not the 1800’s anymore. People have sex and move in with each other, it isn’t a crazy concept. My sex life isn’t really any of your business, though.” She made a sound of indignation, her voice an octave higher than when she last spoke. “That is no way to talk to your mother! I can’t believe you would be such a sinner, after everything I worked so hard to teach you. This behavior is disgusting, you know that? Only whores engage in such hedonistic acts.”

You stiffened at her words, years of religious teachings and long hours spent in churches creeping into your mind. Memories of wooden switches and Sunday School songs wrapped their tendrils around your throat, threatening to choke you until you had to plead with God for mercy. You took a gulp of air, trying desperately to keep your voice steady as tears pricked your eyes. “Mom, I’m not going to let you make me feel bad for the way I live my life, especially regarding something as small as who I’m spending my nights with. I just called to see how you and dad are doing, but if you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. I have other things to do anyway.” Her voice pierced through your phone’s speaker before you could hang up, your name spat from her lips like it was something profane. “All I ever did was try to raise a nice Christian girl, and this is what I get in return? A slut that sleeps with women and men before she’s even married? A sodomite? And he’s Catholic! You know catholicism isn’t biblical, how many times have I told you to stay away from non-Christians?” Tears were streaming down your face at this point, recollection of the confession of your treatment at the hands of the local pastor resulting in beatings. For some reason, you could only form a response to the last part of her rant. “After all of that, catholicism doesn’t seem as bad,” you said dryly.

“If we weren’t on the phone I’d smack you across the face for that. Don’t bother calling again. I’m not interested in hearing the lifestyle of a hellbound heathen.” The call ended with a dull beep, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You distantly registered the sound of the door opening, footsteps coming down the hallway and making their way to where you were outside of the bedroom. Matt knelt in front of you, his unseeing eyes wide with concern. Your name fell from his lips as he cupped your face in his hand, lightly tracing his thumb along your cheek. “What happened? Was it your mom?” All you could do was nod as another sob escaped you. Desperate for some kind of comfort, you reached out your arms in a silent request. He complied without hesitation, drawing you into his chest and letting out a sad hum as you gripped his shirt, clinging to any semblance of stability.

“What do you need, love?” he asked softly, his fingers gently running up and down your spine. “Do you want to talk about it?” You instinctively shook your head and then paused, reconsidering. “I don’t… I don’t know why she still affects me the way she does,” you croaked. “It’s like every time we talk, I’m a scared little kid again.” Your voice dropped to a whisper, shame making your words thick. “She called me a whore, Matt. Called me a heathen for moving in with you, said I was going to hell. There was more, some sexuality stuff and Catholic-shaming you, but that was the main point.”

Matt went rigid, his fingers abruptly stopping their soothing motions on your back. When he spoke, his voice was dangerously low. “She’s wrong, love. You know those are just lies, right?” You shrugged helplessly, keeping your eyes trained on the ground as you shifted your position, opening up the space between the two of you. “I’m not religious. Not anymore, not after everything I went through in the church.” You sighed tiredly, scrubbing your hand down your face. “But being raised the way I was… it sticks, y’know? That belief system is a part of who I am, whether I want it to be or not, and I can’t help but think… what if she’s right? I mean, I’m not exactly a saint. Usually I’m pretty good at rationalizing all this stuff, but man, God must hate me. I’m such a bad person, Matt.”

He physically flinched at that. “Don’t ever call yourself that,” he seethed. You jerked your head up to look at him, his anger taking you by surprise. His words were sharp, his tone dripping barely-concealed anger. “You are not a bad person for living your life.” You made a noise of protest but he quickly cut you off. “I don’t know what they drilled into your head to make you hate yourself so much, but none of it is true. You’re the most wonderful, kind, selfless person I’ve ever met, and God help anyone who makes you think anything different.” He pressed a kiss into your forehead and you managed a small smile. “I love you. So much,” he breathed.

“I love you too. Thanks for trying to undo my religious trauma even though you have enough of it for all of Hell’s Kitchen. Sorry for crying on your shirt.” He chuckled at that, helping you to your feet. “Nothing to apologize for, love. Now, let’s go to the store. We need to buy some eggs.”

You arched a brow. “We have eggs in the fridge. What are you up to, Murdock?” He smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye. “We have a house to egg, of course. Don’t tell me you’re above petty revenge?” 

You laughed, the tension in your body draining. God, you loved this man. “Of course not. I’m a good heathen, after all.”

[katiekatdragon27]

Guys, there is a severe lack of Sodascent content on this site and it irks me greatly. These are super self-indulgent lol.

Meet Dusty and Lucile Hansen-Euler. Lucy is a molotov cocktail and Dusty is a sand candle (like that one product that was shoved in my face for two weeks straight on Insta) They are 10 and 15 respectively, and they are a girl and demiboy.

Lucy is an excitable tomboy with a ton of explosive energy and a proactive mindset. She's always in everyone's business (if they let her) and is constantly egging on dangerous stuff. Half of the time she is the one doing said dangerous stunts. Her self-preservation is pretty low, but once she begins forming alcohol in her body instead of juice, she becomes more cautious. She still has a very unhealthy and worrying interest in fire.

Dusty, on the other hand, is a grumpy dude who's full of cringy preteen angst and a rebellious mindset. He's the guy to post stuff like "It's not a phase, Mom" and "The shadows are the only things that truly understand me" and other edgy quotes like that. He's also that kid that hates that his parents love him cuz he's a "how can I relate to these edgy characters when my family is so nice????" person. Also, his wick is burnt since I think that all candles have the ability to light up when feeling strong emotions (for him, usually anger).

Bryce is doing his darndest to be present in his kids' lives (parent issues) but tends to over-worry about them and comes off as strict as a result. Amelia is more laid back and calm of the two and is more inclined to trust her kids' decisions (good childhood), but she is the scarier of the two when she's mad.

(The dust bag above is my brother's character)^^

Take a wiiiiiiiild guess who's kids are the first two 💀

They'll get their own post eventually, I just have to finish their refs.

The ref sheet w/out shading and the sketch are below:

Have a good day bros 👍

[1waveshortofashipwreck]

Misc. Tag Game! ✨

thank you for the tags @ronald-speirs @panzershrike-pretz and @sharkboyandlavalieb !!!

Made by the amazing @ronald-speirs 💖

Favorite place in the world you’ve visited?

Hmmm I’m gonna have to go with when my mom, sister, and I all went to Las Vegas for my 21st birthday! It was so much fun and just an incredible experience 💕

Something you’re proud of yourself for?

Probably continuing my therapy journey! I’ve been in therapy continuously since I graduated in 2020 and I feel like I’ve made some good progress! I’m proud of myself for not giving up when things felt impassable

Favorite books?

Soooo i’m not too big on reading but something I will read over and over again is the fruits basket series!!!! That’s the only book series I’ve read in its entirety and I love every bit of it!!!

Something that makes your heart happy when thinking about it?

It’s not the dart scene at the start of replacements idk what you’re talking about

Favorite thing about your culture?

About being American? I guess just the fact that BoB is American 🤣

When did you join the HBO War fandom? What was the first show you watched?

Umm i think in April ‘23?? @dontirrigateme and I had just watched the x-men first class movies and wanted to watch more James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender, so of course we watched BoB… the world has never been the same

Have you read any of Easy Company’s books? If so, which ones were your favorite?

I’m trying to read Ambrose’s book right now, but I have Winters’ Beyond Band of Brothers, Guarnere and Babe’s book, and a couple others on my shelf!! (if anyone finds Webster’s shark book i promise you my first born for a copy of that)

Favorite HBO War character and your favorite moment with them?

Oh goodness there’re so many!!! Ummm well right now I’m going thru a Liebgott phase oml the man makes me FOAM AT THE MOUTH so I’m gonna go with when he tends to Talbert on the Night of the Bayonet, like Liebgott is known for his temper and fighting but here (and with Tipper) you can see he’s an absolute SWEETHEART AAAA I WOULD DIE FOR JOSEPH DAVID LIEBGOTT

Do you make content for any fandoms, if so; what sort of content?

I’ve just recently started writing for BoB!! I also have some Pokemon x BoB collages that I’ve made 🥰

Favorite actor/actress and your favorite film of theirs?

Johnny Depp hands down, and absolutely pirates of the caribbean, it’s just all-around lovely and whimsical and amazing (fun fact till like middle school i had no idea what Johnny Depp actually looked like because my only references for him were Captain Jack Sparrow and Willy Wonka and they just did not look the same to me 🤣)

Favorite quote/s that you wish to share with others?

I think I’ve said this before, but it’s a quote from my blorbo Vincent Van Gogh, “I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.”

Random fact your mutuals/followers don’t know about you?

My dad’s retired Navy, so I grew up moving around until he retired when I was about 8!

If you’re a writer, do you need a beta reader (say yes so I can be your beta reader 🤭)?

ASDFDL I WOULDN'T MIND HAVING A BETA READER

Three things that make you smile? (I’m watching BoB rn so this is about to be BoB momes)

“CURRAHEEEEEEE!”

“We salute the rank not the man”

“I’m John Wayne! The costume department set me up with these nice navy whites, what do ya think!?”

Any nicknames you like?

Honestly I just feel warm and fuzzy when given any nickname, I’ve been called Em, Emmy, Ems, my favorite might be “Yellow,” I’ve had three separate best friends give me this nickname just cuz they associate me with the color yellow and sunshine vibes ✨

List some people you love to see around on tumblr!

ASDJ:LKF THERE ARE SO MANY @dontirrigateme @panzershrike-pretz @ithinkabouttzu @executethyself35 @ronsparky @love--persevering @ronald-speirs @sweetxvanixlla @whollyjoly @xxluckystrike @venus-haze @thicccqueyoongimin @joetoyesbrassknuckles101 @neptunes-blue @ewipandora @hanniewinnix @sharkboyandlavalieb @footprintsinthesxnd @mutantmanifesto @jump-wings @malarkgirlypop @mads-nixon @blueberry-ovaries @coco-bean-1218 @b00ks1ut AND SO SO MANY MORE I'M SORRY IF I DIDNT TAG YOU I PROMISE I LOVE YOU

What would you do during a zombie apocalypse?

Cry and die probably

Favorite movie?

Bohemian Rhapsody, the Mummy, and Pirates of the Carribean, and the Blair Witch Project!

Do you like horror movies? YES!! Especially found footage movies!!

No pressure tags!! @dontirrigateme , @ithinkabouttzu , @executethyself35 , @neptunes-blue , @thicccqueyoongimin , @love--persevering , @jump-wings , @blueberry-ovaries and anyone else who wants to do this!!! 💖

[dedicatedfollower467]

actually regarding that last post, i can map out the timeline of my book/series obsessions pretty well.

kindergarten-1st grade: The Chronicles of Narnia

1st-2nd grade: Nancy Drew

2nd-3rd grade: various horse books, including The Pony Pals, The Black Stallion, Black Beauty, and various Marguerite Henry books including King of the Wind, Misty of Chincoteague, and Brighty of the Grand Canyon

4th-5th grade: Redwall, Guardians of Ga'Hoole, and Warriors (my "talking animals" era)

5th-8th grade: this was my Harry Potter era

5th-8th grade: this also happened to be my DRAGON era, where i became obsessed with pretty much anything that had a dragon on the cover, notably including Eragon, Hatching Magic, The Last Dragon Chronicles, The Dragons In Our Midst series by Bryan Davis, The Dragon Keepers Chronicles by Donita K. Paul, and Dragon's Blood by Jane Yolen. my mom would not let me read dragonriders of pern at this age and i resented her for it.

(there was also a short period of time in 5th-6th grade where i became obsessed with the Star Wars: Jedi Apprentice books)

7th-9th grade: my STAR TREK era, and also around the time i discovered the existence of fanfiction.

i don't remember if i had a specific book series i was into at this point in time, although this is when i first read Bone and realized comics could be longer than the stuff in the newspaper.

9th-10th grade: this is where my comics era TRULY began, starting with X-Men and a whole slew of webcomics, including Gunnerkrigg Court, The Wotch, Darths and Droids, The Order of the Stick, Shortpacked!, Questionable Content, and Homestuck.

I don't remember if I was particularly hooked on a book series at this point--I vaguely remember feeling like all the books actually aimed at my age were a combination of unnecessarily edgy and uncomfortably sex/romance-obsessed, books for younger kids were too dumb/simple, and books for adults were mostly uninteresting because they weren't about experiences i cared about or could relate to.

11th-12th grade through sophomore year of college: DISCWORLD DISCWORLD DISCWORLD, i discovered discworld and DEVOURED those books.

this time period was also my Batman era

12th grade-junior year of college: my Avengers/MCU and SuperWhoLock eras

this is kinda when i mostly stopped reading books for pleasure? apart from my ongoing Discworld phase, i didn't read a whole lot of fiction books that weren't for school.

senior year of college: Undertale, Ace Attorney, and Hatoful Boyfriend all happened to me in this year, i was too busy with them to read actual books. also i think this is around the time i hit on The Adventure Zone

master's degree years: Critical Role and Evan Dahm's Overworld Tales comics

i don't actually remember what fandoms i was cycling through between the end of my master's degree and the Plague Years, apart from my Homestuck Revival Period.

Pre-Plague Era: Homestuck Revival Period.

Plague Years (part one): The Magnus Archives, Rusty Quill Gaming, and Stellar Firma

Plague Years (part two): Hollow Knight, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood and Manga

The-Plague-Isn't-Really-Over-But-Let's-All-Pretend-It-Is: The Untamed, leading into Scum Villain. Also, the Locked Tomb.

Post-Move Era: Trigun and Revolutionary Girl Utena

Now: idk currently it's Hollow Knight but like two weeks ago it was Batman and before that it was MDZS/CQL again for a hot second, i'm just kinda floundering around at the moment and haven't found a new series to get obsessed with for.... a pretty long while actually? i know i COULD start things and there are many many things on my to watch/read/listen list but starting new things is Incredibly Difficult and has been for a while now actually.

[metalprompts]

*      ―      IT WASN’T A PHASE, MOM !  ( PART TWO. )

a collection of lyrics taken from my mostly myspace era nostalgia playlist. this one goes out to all the former emo kids.  some triggering content may appear.  as always, feel free to change and adjust anything as needed.

“ things happen but we don’t really know why. “

“ all these things i hate revolve around me. “

“ why can’t you just be straight up with honesty? “

“ i’m coming home. i’ve been gone for far too long. “

“ have i fucked things up again? “

“ my bed’s so cold and lonely. “

“ you’ve got me shaking from the way you’re talking. “

“ if i had common sense, i’d cut myself or curl up and die. “

“ if this is love, i don’t wanna be loved. “

“ if i could be the devil, you can be the sinner. “

“ you could be the drugs and i could be the dealer. “

“ everything you say is like music to my ears. “

“ i’ve got you under a spell and i don’t think i’ll be letting you out. “

“ if this is heaven, then baby i don’t wanna know hell. “

“ i could’a went to college like rich kids do. “

“ in rock n’ roll, i got a phd. “

“ we got all that we need, packed it up in the van. “

“ i ain’t got shit, but i got this far. “

“ it’s probably better we’re not together. “

“ we were so young and invincible. “

“ young love was such dumb love. “

“ our first kiss stole the breath from my lips, why did the last one tear us apart? “

“ we were just kids in love. “

“ you won’t try to save me. you just want to hurt me and leave me desperate. “

“ you taught my heart a sense i never knew i had. “

“ i bet you believe that i’m better off with you than someone else. “

“ i’m not your boyfriend, baby. “

“ i’m not your knight in shining armor. “

“ l-o-v-e’s just another word i never learned to pronounce. “

“ how do i say i’m sorry? ‘cause the word is never gonna come out. “

“ i’m so bored, your words aren’t making sense. “

“ one more drink and i’m convinced. “

“ it’s been hell not having you here. “

“ i’ve been missing you so bad and you don’t seem to care. “

“ i bet you’ve never had a friday night like this. “

“ i don’t want this anymore. the thought of you is no fucking fun. “

“ i’m tired of begging for the things that i want. “

“ if i leave, i’m alone. but what’s the difference when you beg for love? “

“ we fell in love and now we’re both alone. “

“ i know it’s hard, but who are you to fall apart on me? “

“ i still think you’re beautiful. “

“ i don’t ever wanna lose my best friend. “

“ i really hope you enjoy the show. “

“ hotels are cheap and there’s one down the street. “

“ i’m sorry, i can’t see that you truly love me. “

“ i don’t care if you’re sick, i don’t care if you’re contagious. i would kiss you even if you were dead. “

“ did you call me last night just ‘cause you couldn’t get laid? “

“ you’ve got me right where you want me. “

“ i know i’m a bastard, but i’m not a coward. “

“ why can’t you see what you’re doing to me? “

“ don’t worry, i’ve let you go long before you left me. “

“ nothing compares to a quiet evening alone. “

“ let’s be more than this. “

“ you wear your heart on your sleeve, i threw mine to the sky. “

“ when you use your lips, they better be on me. “

“ liars turn me on. “

“ it’s only a crime if i get caught. “

“ i can’t keep sleeping in your bed if you keep messing with my head. “

“ i can’t keep touching you like this if it’s just temporary bliss. “

“ don’t even talk about the consequences, ‘cause right now you’re the only thing that’s making any sense to me. “

“ i don’t give a damn what they say or what they think, ‘cause you’re the only one who’s on my mind. “

“ will you be mine tonight? “

“ i thought you knew that i was crazy. “

“ who the fuck do you think you are? “

“ i can never be a perfect fucking image of what you want. “

“ we’re dancing with the devil. he’ll drink you under the table. “

“ do you still want me? “

“ i won’t be angry if you have to leave. but i won’t be waiting. “

“ don’t say you’re sorry because i won’t believe you. “

“ i’ve tried so hard to be what you needed. “

“ i’ve tried for so long to make you believe that i’m not the enemy. “

“ i never wanted a partner and i never loved you. “

“ i never wanted a partner and i never loved you, so now you’re free to leave. “

“ i swear to you now, i won’t call. “

“ congratulations. go home now. “

“ stop talking to me. i haven’t been listening. “

“ music is dead thanks to you cunts. “

“ my only home is the bottom of a bottle and a rolled up bill. “

“ i am rock and roll at it’s fucking finest. “

“ self destruction is such a pretty little thing. “

“ don’t bother sleeping without one eye open wide. “

[fyrewalks]

a not-so-brief look at bob's early life and things pre-top gun, all in one post for your convenience!

his parents met at 19 and 23 at rit in ny, his dad was finishing up college. they started dating in october, by february she was pregnant, and by the end of the spring semester they were married. as rushed as everything had been, they truly love each other, regularly gush about it being love at first sight, and are still very much happily married.

they lived briefly with his maternal grandparents in ridgewood nj when stevie was born before moving when his dad started flight school

bob was born four years after stevie as his dad finished flight school and started his navy career as a fixed wing pilot in earnest

gracie was then born four afters that (bob 4, stevie 8) and his parents were really starting to feel settled in their lives at this point - despite their rushed start, they feel like they've finally done things "right" and "traditional", old enough now that the worst judgment for being young military parents doesn't phase them as much.

his childhood is largely happy, even with the constant moving (they bounced between virgina and florida, mainly) and his dad's deployments.

bob was always a shy, quiet child very much the opposite of his mom and sisters who are social butterflies, well suited for military life. while his sisters ran around the house with the other base kids, bob was content to help in the kitchen or hide out in his room with whatever electronic he'd been allowed to tinker with, legos, or whichever comic or show he was into at the time.

while his dad may at first appear quiet, at least compared to his wife, he's loud and the first to laugh when at home with his family and friends. he is, however, strict, reserved, and protective in a way that many military parents often are so bob's often struggled to read him.

growing up, they'd split summers between montanna at his paternal grandparent's ranch (stevie was the ultimate horse girl fyi) and his grandparents in ridgewood, who spoiled them endlessly

during a family vacation in ridgewood in january, a trip they took as an entire family before an upcoming deployment, stevie fell into the ice while they're out ice skating on a local pond. while she was initially resuscitated, she passes a week later. she was 14, bob 10 and gracie 6. his parents tried to be optimistic, shielding them from the worst by not being entirely truthful on how unlikely it was that she'd wake up again and keeping the kid's visits short; as a result, bob feels robbed of that time.

their house, which was once constantly loud and busy with activity, becomes quiet after they sit shiva. his dad is redeployed two months after stevie's death, unable to defer it further, and whatever success his mon had at holding their family together, crumbles. no large shabbat dinners where everyone from the neighborhood is invited; no more kids running around the house as the moms chat.

(@heartsbreaking quote wrecked me when were talking about this so must share it with you - like imagine having a big family with kids always doing SOMETHING and you can always hear someone somewhere and then suddenly you lose one of those sounds)

bob goes from helping around the kitchen to cooking meals, helping gracie get ready for school and then camp. two weeks into a local day camp, he breaks down in the middle of lunch, which sets off family counseling and support from their temple.

with help and time, they all adjust to their new family dynamic, but the damage is already done - bob was forced to grow up too soon, too fast and his mom depends on his help more than either realizes.

he also starts spending more of his summers at his grandparent's ranch rather than new jersey. bob likes the horses and, perhaps surprisingly, prefers the physicality of it. he enjoys working with his hands, though, bob quickly realizes he has no interest in taking over the ranch. no, he'd love to be up in the sky.

in the summer between middle and high school, bob comes out as gay. his dad doesn't hesitate; he's the first to hug his son and reassure him that everything will be alright, but while bob sometimes has trouble reading his dad's expressions, he doesn't struggle in the days after - as supportive as his dad is, there's no ignoring the plain fear in his dad's eyes inspired by the military's policies and attitudes towards gay men.

it's a fear that grows when bob starts to more openly express his interest in becoming a naval aviator.

they're lucky; they move back to jacksonville at the start of tenth grade so bob gets to enjoy a more traditional high school experience. he runs track, is popular among his clique of nerds by virtue of being top of the class, and is president of the robotics club. he also spends a good amount of time volunteering for a jewish family services organization.

don't be fooled, though, while he is largely mild mannered and follows his parents more tedious, over protective rules, he's easily talked into breaking some of them by gracie, more so once he's driving.

in an effort to dissuade bob from becoming a navy pilot, his dad allows him to take flight lessons at 17 so he can get his civilian license. it does the opposite - bob finishes high school with a navy rotc scholarship to mit. (his dad also spends some time encouraging him to go into intelligence, capitalizing on his love and interest in learning hebrew)

it's a tense summer, his dad is terrified both by bob being a gay man in the navy and just at the idea of losing their son. so is his mom, though her fear is more inspired by the danger of piloting. it culminates in a nasty fight, his dad threatening to cut him off should he go. so, bob goes and his mom follows his dad's lead.

bob's roommate invites him to some house party two days into term, and without the rules or any reason to say no, bob goes and finds that liquid courage makes him courageous instead of overanalyzing every word of every social interaction. and thus starts his spectacular spiral. he drinks, a lot, and sleeps around. he scrapes by in classes because he's the type of person who doesn't have to study too hard, and well, his rotc requirements are another story. bob manages, but he's not impressing anyone.

bob doesn't go home over winter break and when he stays in boston for the summer too, his parents realize he may not ever come back home again. it takes some time for them to mend their relationship, slower due to bob's drinking. as much as he tries to hide it from them and gracie, it's obvious.

while he does come home for winter break the next year, it's not his family that convinces him to stop drinking. one of his instructors sits him down when he returns to campus for the spring semester - he knows bob's been drinking, has lost a few part time jobs due to it, and with more than a few mentions to his father's successful career, outlines just how thoroughly he's screwing up any chance of accomplishing something similar. it's a real 'come to jesus' moment and it helps give bob the final push he needs.

it works, in part because bob's ready to change and because he also starts going to temple again, which in turn helps him build a healthy, if small group of friends and gets him involved in a few campus clubs (one of which he starts dating their final year of mit. they later mutually breakup a few months into flight school, neither interested in long distance.)

with sobriety, a few friends, and new interests comes clarity - bob's still very much interested in aviation, just no longer piloting. he likes the technical side of things and wso offers him the same satisfaction he'd assumed piloting would.

flight school was largely uneventful. he dated around casually but found it hard to date other service men just as it was hard to judge if civilians were interested in him beyond his uniform (and he was, and still is, reluctant to drag someone into this life).

bob also found it hard to fit in due to the drinking culture. while he becomes comfortable enough to have a glass of wine during shabbat dinner or pick out something that compliments a good meal, bob does not go back to social drinking and will not drink at bars, parties, etc. a single glass of wine with dinner is his limit.

he graduates flight school, gets assigned to a squad to the eagles and is quickly recommended to top gun despite his little experience and young age.

[theghostiedyke]

@molsno​ tagged me in a 20 q’s thing. it was originally a reddit refugee thing but now it’s just fun hehehehe

Name? lavi :) i also answer to ghostie :3

Pronouns and gender? they/she; my gender is dyke lesbian. like my sexuality is simply too tied to my gender to consider it otherwise. i am woman aligned because i am in love with women and other lesbians with fucked up genders

Sexuality? lesbian <3

Country? U.S. :/ (but also PR)

Top 5 fandoms? uhhh rn: LOZ, Bleach, Ace Attorney, im probably forgetting some. i’m quite picky with how i interact with fandoms too i like find my lil niche and stay there and ignore the big stuff. i always love when i find fellow queer or fans of color :>

What is your Most forbidden snack? squishies

Would you pet a bug? depends on the bug! it might be too small to be petted or might be something that scares me. i do like to photograph the non scary ones at work hehehe. (i.e. pollinators and or invasive but pretty bugs)

Share a weird fact/story about yourself with the class. i am suddenly blanking as if i am not constantly weird and awkward. i wouldn’t call this weird but more so enjoyable but i have now had two parties where i have had a autism moment with someone i am meeting for the first time on the couch. and we talk in depth about our shared interest. truly a melding of adhd (on my part) and austism (on the other persons part).

What does the color blue taste like? “blue raspberry slushies, my favorite flavor :3″ i am partially copying this answer from vivi! and adding on: blue raspberry dumdum lollipops.

What is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen? idk if can only pick one thing! so many things are beautiful! Puerto Rico, women, a hibiscus I saw blooming the other day, my baby niece, fan art of a current hyperfixation, my baby nephew’s love of ladybugs, artbooks i bought at a convention

What is the stupidest thing you've ever done? only one?? anytime adhd tax has affected me lol, or when it took me literal years to realize two family members were specifically my first cousins from an aunt I never realized was a mom too lol.

Stupidest thing you've seen/heard someone else do/say? a professor asking me and coworker for a “boneless” book when i worked at a uni bookstore.

Hyperfixation song? currently so far so fake by pierce the veil but it might be changing soon

Is there any meaning behind your profile picture and/or username? my avatar is a lil piccrew of me and the username is now self explanatory but originally was a halloween variation back when ppl changed their usernames. it’s undergone many changes on whims lol.

Dream career as a child? i had a couple of different phases so: chef, fashion designer, interior designer, artist

Dream career as an adult? ehhh designer/artist. i’m content in my job rn i get to do enough of stuff i like and the work environment is good and i really like my coworkers.

Thoughts on cilantro? fresh! tasty! a perfect topping to savory foods!

Have you ever been banned from a location and if so, why? nope

What is your cursed food combination? hmmm i don’t think i have one? when i have like 0 groceries i sometimes experiment by putting different things in rice, like cheeses and sauce and condiments and cooking it with bouillon cubes. 

hmmm okie! i am tagging: @onequeerruffian @mothghhost @hitofthesearchparty

(no pressure though)

[belamuse]

Rethinking “Warrior” Culture: Why Life & Love Don’t have to be Hard.

I wore the title like a shimmering badge of honor upon my heart although it was more than a meaningful compliment. For most of my life, it was my identity.

An identity that served me well in that it helped me to survive complex trauma, but at 40 years old I’ve long reached the point where I’m ready to finally lay my inner warrior and her high drama, seemingly constant conflict and defensiveness to rest in peace.

As in, “And it is peace I give to you and peace I leave with you— ashes to ashes, dust to dust and thank you for your service.” Peace out.

Morbid though it may sound, I’ve simply outgrown the need to be in a state of combativeness.

My two most recent pieces I've written have brought me face to face with the reality of war culture permeating every human experience, from aging to disability.

Like buying a cherry-red Subaru and suddenly the freeway is crawling with the exact same car, now that I’m aware of it I can’t unsee it.

“F.U. Epilepsy” or one bold middle finger on a shirt with the epilepsy ribbon is the sentiment, or lack thereof, illustrated in this post. “Combat signs of aging!” The media aggressive approach to time that the media splashes all over advertisements for creams, serums, and lotions is the theme drawing attention to in the post prior to that.

I realize I might offend people who are encouraged to persevere by the David and Goliath narrative that permeates society, and that’s fine too because the problem with being offended is that you are playing offense, which puts someone else in the position of defense. It’s like an athletic sport but without the rules and regulations that distinguish friendly, safe competition from genuine barbarism.

I grew up watching��Final Girls in 80s horror movies take down their antagonists against all odds, and watching a certain blonde teenager on TV “save the world… a lot.”

Female identified heroes were sparse in my childhood and adolescence, and I clung to any role model I could find to give me an example of femininity that didn’t shrivel up apologetically in the face of constant adversity in a patriarchal world.

And then I discovered music. Not me, personally— I didn’t put it on the map but I discovered music for myself by female artists who bolstered my courage and gave me a new identity in a female-driven utopia far removed from the infantilizing, mansplaining, pre-#MeToo society I grew up in during the 80s and 90s.

Like Fiona Apple, I was a “Shadow Boxer Baby.”

Like Tori Amos, I believed in “peace, B*tch!”

Like Shirley Manson, I couldn’t “use what I can’t abuse.”

Like Poe, I apparently grew up “mean” because someone messed with my dreams when I was little.

And like Gwen Stefani, I was ready to have the pink ribbon taken off my eyes.

But before all of that, there was the long overdue Riot Grrrl Movement challenging the sexist world of punk rock just south of my mom's hometown, in Seattle.

I do not for one moment regret the empowering messages my younger self internalized from my favorite female artists in all mediums. They showed a petite, young girl from a broken home that she literally had “A Fighting Chance” through what was, at the time, a revolutionary lens that has paved the way for so many women and female and femme-identified artists to come, as well as paved the way for not only content that would truly shatter the deeply embedded gender stereotypes of society but generate conversations and institute social change in life and legislation.

So what’s the problem?

There is a quote from Michelle Rosenthal, author of Your Life After Trauma: 

“Survival mode is supposed to be a phase that helps save your life—it’s not meant to be how you live.”

The problem is not art and it’s definitely not social justice; the problem for me was that I continued to experience the pressure of being a badass warrior long after it had served its purpose and when it hurt me and my interpersonal relationships due to the fact that I was (and still struggle with being) combative and defensive all the time. Being in a constant state of hostility and an “us or me against them” mentality did a number on my cortisol and adrenaline levels, and ultimately my central nervous system, which meant “taking the bull by the horns” and not letting PTSD “mess with the wrong woman” and “teaching it a lesson” by “showing it who’s boss,” even when this was 100 percent defeating my purpose and actually making my symptoms worse. Oh my!

The mentality that had helped me survive domestic violence, sexual assault, being unhoused, being an adult child of alcoholics, generational poverty, and more was suddenly destroying me.

I was literally foiling my own best efforts, or to use a more modern analogy, “Shooting myself in the foot.”

Swords and guns were the metaphorical violent accessories I wielded skillfully throughout the three decades prior to my life-saving brain surgery. And they worked. And I was applauded.

“I will survive” (Gloria Gaynor) because “I’m a survivor” (Destiny’s Child) and “stronger” (Britney Spears) and “a fighter” (Christina Aguilera) and all of the “Slay” Queen anthems that inspired Rocky Balboa training montage vibes that motivated me to “rise up to the challenge of our rival!” (Survivor)

You’re welcome?

I was out here in a custody battle, battling addictions and other so-called “personal demons.” Pow! Mental illness, I’m going to “knock out” my to do list and “tackle” my grey hairs while “crushing” my “unforgiving” morning workout before “attacking” my thesis and “whipping” my house into shape.

Yikes.

So much hostility. And for what? Why?

I’m no longer in harms way and I’m not sure how much I was actually accomplishing besides living in a perpetual state of fight or flight mode that hurt me in the long-term more than any of my adversaries, real or imagined.

Because that’s the thing: I was mostly at war with myself.

As the song goes, “there is a time for peace and a time for war, which is actually a biblical excerpt. I am grateful to all of the social justice “warriors” out there on “the front lines” as I was once as a “trauma-informed survivor leader” but I’m no longer interested in survival of the fittest being central to my identity.

The integrity of my beliefs hasn’t changed, but my approach to them has as I continue to learn to stop beating the war drums for no one in particular, take my armor off and shift from my sympathetic fight or flight nervous system to my parasympathetic nervous system in order to heal.

“The parasympathetic nervous system, also known as “rest and digest,” can be thought of as functioning in opposition to the sympathetic nervous system.” (1)

My old MySpace tagline was: “Walk softly and carry a machine gun,” a derivation of Theodore Roosevelt’s “walk softly and carry a big stick.”

These days, I just walk softly, sans machine guns and big sticks and I don’t “pound” the pavement either.

“You’ve gone soft” was always an insult in the working class, Boomer/Gen X culture of toxic masculinity that “made me” until I took back the night, and then, as time passed, learned to just lay down and go to sleep during it.

Going soft is one of the wisest, healthiest things I have ever done for myself and my loved ones. It’s also a journey, one that requires me to lay down my machete, which is not always easy as it leaves my heart open to wounding. My body doesn’t need me to beat it into submission, which would be completely unacceptable for anyone else to do to me or anyone.

And I don’t have to w-rest-le satisfaction from life.

Approaching my sons with an aggressive, authoritarian attitude just puts them on the defensive and results in a power struggle when we are all seeking connection.

Love needn’t be “tough.”

Life needn’t be “hard.”

And crying is extremely brave, powerful, and healthy.

“Researchers have established that crying releases oxytocin and endogenous opioids, also known as endorphins. These feel-good chemicals help ease both physical and emotional pain.” ~ Leo Newhouse, LICSW

Interesting how something so beneficial still has so much stigma and shame attached to it.

Though the warrior part of me got me this far and I am both grateful and extremely proud of myself for that, I’m also ready to release what no longer serves me: my “armed guard” being one of them.

I’m learning that it takes more strength to listen to and honor my body and its needs as well as the needs of my loved ones, to open myself to love as well as rejection, to embody the courage of daily living and practice healthy habits, cultivate patience, and laugh at myself.

Brook Siem wrote: “Happiness is a most rebellious act.”

I’ve learned that acceptance doesn’t mean rolling over and allowing myself to be abused, nor does it mean wallowing in my pain or, conversely, denying my negative emotions. I’m not advocating toxic positivity or denial.

Genuine happiness, for me, means accepting that life is a spectrum and not creating false expectations of perfection, setting boundaries while opening my mind and heart, making peace with my past, and realizing that not everything deserves my time, energy, or attention or even my response because I am not responsible for saving the world. Not even a little.

Whew!

Now I’m just taking care of my little corner of it and being kind to others in my pleather pants, Dr. Martins, and a friendly wink.

I would be completely remiss if I did not quote the brilliant Jaiya John:

“The softer she became with herself, the softer she became with the world, which became softer with her. She birthed a new generational cycle: Peace.” ~ ~

(1) National Library Of Medicine Physiology, Autonomic Nervous System Tyler LeBouef; Zachary Yaker; Lacey Whited. Last Update: May 1, 2023.

[erigold13261]

Random HCs of Pav and Gayatri (applies to both canon and the NSpideR AU)

Pav and Gaya became friends when Gaya was singing. Pav fell in love with her voice! The others… were afraid of her though.

Later, they realized that Pav wanted to be like cool boy like Gaya and vice versa. They were both trans! They chose each other’s names.

Gaya’s dad immediately accepted her because it all clicked for him, the clothes, the rejection to cut her hair, her friends mostly being other girls… Her mother… didn’t. She just said it was going to be a phase, and ignored her wishes. She was also afraid of her daughter’s powers, which she had no immunity to.

inspector Singh decided to fight to get full custody of his daughter to keep her safe.

he somehow succeeded, and now Gayatri barely meets her mother. (She has abandonment issues and anxiety though)

seeing how Pavitr makes his daughter happy, inspector Singh considers Pav to be his secondary family.

now, they were both in elementary school and quite content, but as they got older, people made strange jokes around them saying that “boys don’t have feeling for other boys if they aren’t gay.” Turns out they were both mspec.

After the rock revolution, things got much harder for Pav. His peers teased him for being the cousin of Eve, and started to fear he would “Diva Realm” them

those fears became true, and he accidentally used his powers on them.

this earned him a recommendation to go to Nueva York.

Pav was miserable in Nueva York for the first few weeks, barely talking to anyone but Gayatri, via video chats every night.

Hobie reached out to him, and asked how Eve was able to master her powers while not going to Nueva York.

This is all I have for them now…

1). She had absolutely thought she hypnotized him at first and refused to talk to him or get near him. After a while though, when the singing would have OBVIOUSLY not been affecting him though, and he still tried to hang out with her, that was when she started to let him in closer.

2). Oh that's really sweet! I like that a lot!

3). I for some reason felt like Gaya's mom isn't around at all (either died or left, forgot what I wanted to go with), but if she is around I can definitely see her being like this. Possibly having Gaya be mute or extremely quiet because of no immunity to her voice like her husband ended up having.

4). Good for him! Keep his daughter away from that awful woman (especially if she did what I suggested in keeping Gayatri quiet).

5). Poor Gayatri. At least she has a father who wants her and is absolutely willing to fight for her.

6). At first I do see Inspector Singh being hesitant to let Pav around, but like you said, after seeing how happy he made her, especially after the divorce, you better believe he was doing what he could to make sure Pav stayed in his daughter's life.

7). For some reason I always read mspec as "male spectrum" and not "multiple spectrum/multiple-attraction spectrum" and so think it's specifically a term for gay men. Anyway, wouldn't they be seen as a "straight" couple, or were people just being total asshats and accepting Pav as a guy while denying Gaya the label of girl. That's probably what it was.

8). There's probably rumors that Eve poisoned Pav's mind or that Eve ran away to NSR because of Pav being born. Like truly awful shit to try and make Pav feel bad (as well as him being unhinged or crazy like Eve). Literally anything to try and get under his skin.

9). The fears coming true in that instance probably made even more rumors spread and the ones already around just got bigger/more "real" to everyone. Pav is in an absolutely lose-lose situation with no outside help really coming (other than Gaya and Nueva York's "help")

10). More like a "strong recommendation" that Pav and his family couldn't really fight against (though thankfully Pav actually believed in this company and so went willing and wasn't giving the traumatizing forced to go to Nueva York option).

11). And yea, even if he did go willingly, he would still be miserable because of the culture shock, loneliness, and overall situation her was in sucking the joy out of almost everything.

12). Pav hadn't thought about how Eve had mastered them, but that was enough to make Pav snap a bit out of his depression and think a bit. It got him talking with Hobie a bit and the this is probably when Hobie starts to hint that Nueva York isn't actually going to help Pav without fully saying it yet (Pav is still in shock from everything and Hobie wants to get his trust before outright saying how shitty Nueva York is and to not trust it)

[au-tumn-al]

It's my 8 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

I uaually wouldn't post smth like this, but I'm honestly so appreciative for Tumblr these past 8(??) years. I was a very lonely kid growing up, and didn't have any friends, & wouldn't until going off to college in 2020; I didn't ever make friends on Tumblr (i had amino apps friends 💀💀💀😭😭😭😭😭) but for a long time, it would give me things to do. I had an outlet for literally every single fandom that I got into, especially Ace Attorney. I'm so, so happy that the series has matured with me, and even if we never get AA7, the localization of DGS 1 & 2 was an amazing note to end on. They are probably the best-written games in the series and I loved finally being able to play them after so many years.

When I was still making original content for Ace Attorney, I was kind of sad to think that when I grew up, I would stop my real-time playthroughs of Ace Attorney. I played through the entire first game in the original time that it happened back in 2016 (which is when the first game took place, canonically), and I knew I probably wouldn't do that by the time AJ rolled around in 2026.

Now those years are in reach. 2026 is only 2 ½ years away, and yeah, I probably won't play AJ like I did the first game. But I'm really happy that I never really grew out of my "phases" that I went through on Tumblr. I still love Ace Attorney, and it has remained my very favorite video game franchise through nostalgia alone, and have gone back to the series over the years. Getting into the series because of the announcement of PLvsAA was such a magical time. I had no idea that AA would become such a core part of my teenage years. I got into the series when I was 11 or so, and so I have literally spent half of my life alive loving Ace Attorney than not. And tbh, I'm really happy with that.

I've come a really long way in these past 8 years, and I can better appreciate how the 7 year time skip in AJ did so much to Phoenix lol. I was a very lonely 14 y/o, stuck in an abusive home. I lived day by day, and my mom insisted that I be homeschooled K-12, despite having such an unstable household & her deteriating health so she didn't even get up out of bed most days so I rarely left the house, except to go grocery shopping with her.

But now? I graduated college an entire year early, earning summa cum laude this past May. I met some honestly amazing people, and finally started making friends for the first time since I was 9. I had some fabulous mentors during my undergrad, and not being their students anymore was the hardest part about graduating so early. I'm still actually at my college now, since I'm working a residence job over the summer, but once it's over, I'm finally moving out. I have no idea what's going to come next, but I'm tentatively looking forward to it all.

Tumblr, for its bad reputation, never actually negatively affected me in the same way other apps did (amino was fucking traumatizing 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭), and for me, was exactly the kind of platform that it promised to be. I have loved growing up with it, and coming back to this blog every so often feels like coming home.

I know some of the followers of this blog have really been with me from the beginning, and I really, truly appreciate you. I still recognize your @'s, and they make me happy when I see them in my notifs every so often :) unlike literally every other social media, I have not thought once about closing this account, so I'll be here a while longer.

Who else is going to reblog my yearly Amathatober 5th XC2 post? 🤭

But that is to say: thanks, Tumblr. This platform has been good to me, and I'm so glad I joined it.

[seerofmike]

with everyone digging their talons into the apex lore recently, i wanted to zero in on something i think actively ruins the lore, but not enough people realize it or talk about it:

character motivations (and lack thereof).

i'm gonna ask ya'll a super simple question: what is mirage's character motive?

is it paying for his mom's dementia treatment? while a popular theory, it’s not entirely confirmed, and only implied in one line from a different character entirely. is it looking for his brothers? he seems to have accepted that they’re gone. is it looking for his dad? he honestly doesn’t really seem to care about him too much.

one could eventually come to the conclusion that maybe he just wants fame and fortune so he can have a better life with his mom, but that’s after stretching everything we know about him to form one solid character motive that isn’t actually in the story, or at least, explored.

and that’s the basis for half this post: lack of character motive.

what are some characters here for? helping people out? saving lives? chasing the best thrill? bringing honor? all technically motives, but all so vague that it doesn’t grasp you or leave you as interested as you could be.

[more under cut]

eventually, bloodhound’s motive of honor extended to bringing enough honor to get boone into valhalla, but it’s never actually said how they’ll do that. it just seems kind of pie in the sky. like, how does one determine when they bring honor to boone? will bloodhound decide that for themself? will they maybe realize they don’t need to be hung up on this boy from like years ago? don’t know. it’s so vague.

what’s wattson’s motive? like, her actual motivation? she doesn’t have one yet. some cool stuff is IMPLIED, with her father--but like, she didn’t join the games to find out any sort of truth, or get revenge, or anything. she just joined because she considers them family, and if anything with her father happens, maybe then it will become her motivation, but as of now: none. 

some characters HAVE a motivation or a clear ‘end goal’ to their story--actually, change ‘have’ to ‘had’. that’s another issue. some characters reached the goal of their story too early.

pathfinder was introduced with his motive being to find his creator. well, we found out who pathfinder’s creator(s) are, and now he has a totally new one: find his son.

wraith’s thing was discovering her identity and finding out who she is. in season 6, she gets handed this information. literally. she does nothing for herself and mirage just gives her a file with her name on it. her ‘goal’ has been reached prematurely, with little actual input from her. it just happened to her.

loba joined for revenge, and she gets it. she throws revenant’s head in the phase runner, kicks his ass, and seems satisfied. now, technically that’s not the end of it, and there’s more revenge to maybe be had considering rev can never truly go away and he’s intent on killing someone she loves. but right now? loba seems really content with where she is. it kind of feels like she thinks she’s gotten her revenge. so her goal: achieved. for now. she’s just kind of hanging around, currently.

horizon: needs to return to her son. finds out in her debut season that she does end up doing it. we see her end goal achieved, and though we still wonder how she did it, we know she does it, and we found out shortly after her release. there’s no tension in her story now relating to her motive, to be quite honest. her goal: technically achieved, but achieving still in the works. (time travel--It’s Complicated(tm)!

on the flip side, other characters have a motive, and haven’t achieved it yet, but are moving at a SNAIL’S PACE to get anywhere with it.

crypto’s goal of exposing the syndicate and getting his old life back? mila ??? on PAUSE for relationship drama with wattson.

revenant’s revenge and systematic takedown on hammond ??? on PAUSE for relationship drama with loba.

bangalore getting back home ??? on PAUSE. kind of never really brought up after the first couple of seasons. her motive now seems to be finding her brother (possibly as a part of her larger goal) and to be honest, i think it’s the best we have right now in terms of motivation. like, it took us. several. seasons to get there...but there seems to be small developments in it with every season. incremental development towards an end goal. that’s better than most characters.

anyways, this is getting kind of long, but the point is--the reason apex often feels so empty and dry at times despite things technically happening, or messy and confusing and frustrating because ‘too much’ is happening--is because motives are all over the place. some endings are seemingly achieved too early--and it’s likely that those were never their real motives or arcs to begin with, but hell, the story sure did represent them as such for a long period of time, and when they achieve their ‘end goal’ and suddenly get a new one (or worse, meander around for a bit) it just feels. Bad. it feels empty and rushed. 

characters with little motivation waiting for something to happen to them feel just as bad. wattson could eventually have a motive if she finds out something happened to her father--but that is plot happening to her. not her actions moving the plot forward as it should with a character arc. same thing for rampart--rampart doesn’t actually seem to give a shit about big sister, like, it’s explicitly stated she’s just not the kind of person that really cares for revenge and stuff like that. so the big sister plot we’re all interested in? isn’t really her motive, end goal, whatever word you wanna use for it. and again, if she gets one eventually--it happened to her.

this post is going for a while, and i don’t really have much smart to say or add on, and if i proposed a way to fix the shortcomings we would be here all day. but it’s just something i wanted to make an observation of and put into words, ‘cuz it’s been bugging me for a week.