#and you need to acknowledge this

[yah1dka]

why would someone think that headcannon characters as russians is fun... like... i am not having fun scrolling through tiktok and seeing that, apparently, people enjoy picturing my favourite characters as russians. i'm actually stopping for a moment, unable to comprehend it, and then starting to feel nauseous.

is this my fate to remind people everyday that russians are killing my citizens at this exact moment and you can save your russians headcannons to yourself at least for the next ten years after ukraine wins?

the worst thing is that people either use ukrainian culture to picture their russian traits (fucking shum from go_a, guys, viral eurovision song from the year when russia wasn't allowed to participate) or romanticized image that has no relation to reality.

you can think what you want about are all russians guilty or not, but the bare minimum is to stop giving them representation while they're still attacking my country.

[stargirl230]

ghost of you

super quick Sua screencap redraw to celebrate the new video release - no I was not expecting it to be Like That and yes I was devastated

(no reposts; reblogs appreciated)

[calware]

every time someone (usually a trans woman) goes "hey based on [real world events] it looks like transfems are consistently persecuted significantly more than certain other groups in the lgbtq community" there's always someone ready to crawl out of the woodworks to say "umm the government hates us all equally 😇❤️ so what you just said was pointless" and if she responds with "no there are groups in the community with more privilege than others that puts us at an imbalance and we should be centering those who are most vulnerable" (or god forbid, she gets angry at someone essentially telling her to shut up) the response is always "stop dividing the community?? we need to stop this infighting!! this isn't the oppression olympics, you're just a fed at this point 🙄"

[madohomurat]

trans women are everywhere and are so eager to be seen and heard but only if they feel safe around you. if you hardly ever have trans women interacting with you, especially online, then consider there might be a reason for that and you should address it

[roach-works]

im working on a silly thought right now but: it deeply sucks that advertising is annoying, irresistible, and omnipresent, and we all just have to cope with that constant ongoing sandpaper irritation. meanwhile there's less and less grace for humans that are annoying, which is something that every human is at some point, and some of us are really annoying for most of our lives.

like. everyone has to be beautiful and graceful. everyone has to be sensitive and kind. or else they have to be apologetically disabled: autistic, bipolar, deaf. they have to be so so sorry for inconveniencing you, cutting you off, weirding you out, holding you up, annoying you. they have to take responsibility, they have to listen and learn, they have to make it up to you.

i don't think i want to live in a world where advertisers get to crawl into my eyeballs and earholes as often as they possibly can, but if im abrasive and clueless to someone i better be a card carrying member of the Broken Brain Club or prepared to grovel.

[specialagentartemis]

“young witch trying to solve the mystery of her neighbor’s missing cat in a small village in the Alps” continues to be hilarious don’t get me wrong but it’s kind of making me want to take a crack at treating the concept seriously. In this insular rural community, a cat goes missing. A young woman who takes her community’s professed ideals of helpfulness and harmony in witchcraft seriously volunteers to try to find him. Realizes the more she searches and the more she asks around that everyone in this idyllic village is quietly seething with resentment against their neighbors and against the world, that the insularity of her village is harboring a festering social rot that no one is allowed to address. No one can leave. The hills have fallen silent. Something is eating the cats and no one is allowed to address this. Ötzi is there

[kindaasrikal]

Morro’s reaction to meeting Lloyd again should go exactly like this

The two are just staring at each other, in complete shock. Morro is stuck frozen at the sudden appearance of someone he hurt years ago, but Lloyd has to quickly recover.

Lloyd, grimacing: Morro…It’s been a long while-

Morro:

Morro: Wait did you hit puberty

[moyazaika]

morning glory; tw yandere, gn reader, mdni 18+

the sun is shining, and the morning sky is a promising, pale blue; you are staring down at the stack of hot pancakes on your plate, to avoid looking at him.

completely unperturbed by your close proximity, he’s standing behind your seat at the table, leaning over; warm arms caging you in on either side as he drizzles sweet, chocolate syrup onto the golden face of the topmost pancake, so that it forms the shape of—

“a heart,” he smiles, “for the love of my life.”

“thank you.”

“don’t mention it.” he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. “dig in, darling.”

this fork in your hands, you consider silently, turning it over; should you jab it into his neck?

after he’s made your plate, he sits down in front of his own, across from you. after all of his extensive doting and fussing over you, his own food’s gone cold, but he either doesn’t seem to notice, or he simply doesn’t mind.

you don’t care enough to ask.

he takes slow, thoughtful bites of his own breakfast. you observe, with a bemused sort of awe, the care with which he breaks off the pancake in measured portions, before ensuring each spoonful carries a blueberry, and is dipped in the chocolate syrup.

fork in his mouth, he meets your gaze; takes his sweet time savouring the taste of his food, swallows, smiles at you expectantly. “something on my face, love?”

you turn back to your own plate, completely untouched. “no.”

“alright.” the sound of his fingers, drumming against the dining table. “be a darling and fetch me the milk, will you?”

he’s never allowed you to leave the table until you’ve finished all your food. he’s never even allowed you into the kitchen before. you look up at him warily, voice hushed, “..why?”

“i’d like something to drink, is all.”

you stand very carefully, the grating sound of your chair scraping against the floor making you wince. he says nothing, and so you take that as your cue to take a few hesitant steps into the kitchen.

when you step over the boundary where the wooden floorboards give way to checkered tiles, you turn over your shoulder, suddenly very unsure of what to do next.

“the milk…?”

he’s watching you still, chin resting on interlaced fingers, elbows on the table; even though he was the one who first instructed you that doing so was bad manners.

“yes, love.” he smiles patiently. “should just be in the fridge.”

“okay.”

you’ve never been alone in the kitchen before. never really had any reason to when he insists on making all of your meals. you know you’re technically being supervised even now, but it still feels strange to reach for the fridge handles and just—

“open it.”

you oblige.

you’ve gotten used to it, perhaps.

the cold air hits you in the face as soon as the doors swing open. it takes a moment for your gaze to flitter over all of the different compartments and containers before you catch sight of the milk, and—

why…?

the hair on your skin stands on end.

you read the words once, in a quiet shock.

then another time, as if you simply must’ve read them wrong the first time. you’re in disbelief, going back to the first letter—

your heart drops.

this can’t be happening to you.

—again

—again.

this can’t be happening to you.

your legs give out beneath you.

—and the very moment they do, warm hands, smelling faintly of pancake batter, are there to collect you; keep holding you up, as strong arms wrap themselves right around your body. his kind voice cuts straight through your thoughts. “what’s wrong, my love?”

“that’s…” you raise a shaking finger, point into the fridge. it’s more of a question, the second time around. “that’s…?”

he follows the direction in which you’re pointing, and then he lets out a sigh you can only describe as polite; a dismissive acknowledgement of your distress with no attempt, nor interest, in providing an explanation.

both of you stare at the milk carton where it sits in the fridge, right next to the fruit juice you like so much—beneath the logo, which you’ve traced over a thousand times, bored out of your mind at the breakfast table—is a picture.

an old image of you. younger. smiling.

free.

one word printed beneath the picture, in blocky black letters that take up half of the carton’s packaging, completely impossible to miss—

MISSING

there’s fine print beneath that, even. a smaller string of letters you can’t even begin to read, seeing as it feels like your own world’s tilted sideways; knocked right out of balance. completely off-kilter.

he understands this.

that is why, then, he decides to do it for you.

“town left devastated,” he reads evenly, “over sudden, unexplained disappearance of beloved, active member of community, who vanished without a trace last fall. family members plead with those who may have any information to call the national missing person’s hotline for handsome reward.”

the silence stretches on for a moment, so that the soft, low hum of the refrigerator is the only sound in the house.

“how unfortunate,” he murmurs, tone an imitation of empathy. “the world is only growing unsafer by the day, my love, and this is why,” he brushes your hair out of your face. “i need to keep you so close.”

he closes the refrigerator doors, and carries you out of the kitchen. so completely absorbed in your own shock, you’d neglected to even realise that at some point, he must’ve picked you right up; swept you off your two, very own feet.

“i can’t imagine losing you like that,” he shudders. “i can’t imagine if something like that happened to you, my love.”

he sets you down, very gently, into your seat at the breakfast table. your arms hang limp by your sides, limbs having completely given up on you; so he carefully folds your hands in your lap. pulls out a chair right besides you, and reaches for your cutlery.

“don’t fret over it, darling. as long as you’re with me,” he smiles, cutting into your cold food. “i promise i’ll always keep you safe, and take very good care of you.”

you observe the deliberation with which he breaks off the pancake in measured portions, before ensuring each spoonful carries a soft blueberry, and is dipped in the runny chocolate syrup.

“now open wide, darling.”

you oblige.

what else is there to do?

“try not to think about it too much, my love,” he hums, watching the way your lips fall around the fork, “there is, after all, no use crying over spoilt milk.”

you chew very slowly, taking your time to break the pancake down into something smaller. his eyes, which had been trained on the movement of your throat, now rise to meet yours—

and even though across the table, his plate sits empty: there is, you note, a faint hunger in them.

“wouldn’t you agree, darling?”

the food in your mouth tastes rotten; you don’t answer.

he only smiles patiently in response, as if he has all the time in the world.

the worst part of it all is that outside, you know that the sun is still shining, and the morning sky remains, even now, the same shade of a promising, pale blue.

[windfalling]

1.02 // 1.06 // 1.08 The Stranger vs. Sol on recognizing and differentiating Osha and Mae

[ahsoka-in-a-hood]

Occasionally I find it mildly annoying when Palpatine is posited as the one Anakin had always trusted the most, tbh. There's a noticeable shift in how he interacts with Obi Wan and Palpatine in between aotc and rots, and there's an obvious reason why: the events of aotc themselves. He and Obi Wan had plenty of friction, but they were still close, and Anakin did in fact confide in him in his grumpy teenager way. About his feelings for Padme, about his worries for his mother. It's after his trip to Tatooine that he turns to Palpatine instead.

[littlefankingdom]

"Dick had to take care of Bruce and teach him emotion"

"Tim had to mentally support Bruce when he became Robin"

Shut the fuck up, they did not. They did not have to do shit. Bruce learned from raising Dick and having Dick around, Dick did not have to take care of Bruce or shit. He learned from Dick behaving lile a kid and having to deal with that, not from Dick taking his hand and teaching him. Tim literally only had to be there for Bruce to be better, it is explained in A Lonely Place of Dying that Bruce needs a child to take care of, and that's what Tim is, a child Bruce can take care of. They weren't parentified to take care of Bruce instead of him taking care of their emotional and mental wellbeing. HE TOOK CARE OF THEIR EMOTIONAL AND MENTAL WELLBEING. Damn, with Tim, he does it when his parents don't. With Dick, it's the whole point how Bruce took him to take care of his emotional and mental wellbeing because nobody did for Bruce, and Bruce succeeded.

Stop infantilizing autistic adults. Bruce being autistic and having difficulties with communication, emotions and relationships because of it doesn't mean his kids were the one taking care of him. It means his kids had to learn how it is to interact with an autistic or neurodivergent person.

Bruce being well only when he has a kid to take care of is what is difficult for the kids, because it makes the process of becoming an adult more difficult when your dad needs a kid.

I challenge y'all to be able to talk about Bruce being mentally ill without painting it as a burden to his family, because that's the only way you ever do it.

[aro-in-danyl]

During an Overlord Meeting

Random Overlord: So how'd you bag the King of Hell?

Alastor: Well I-

Lucifer: The first time we met he told me to go fuck myself and dropped a piano on my head

Other Overlords: ...

Lucifer: I've been charmed by his audacity ever since

[normscary]

yknow it is almost cruel that we do not have a glenn close trio album. how do we not have a rock'n'roll christmas cover album by now?? how much money do i need to give freddie for him to sing santa buddy, the sexually charged homophobic AND gay as hell version of santa baby??? how much will it cost for freddie to sing a rock cover of all i want for christmas is you??? i need a glenn close trio version of youre a mean one mr grinch but its glenn roasting jodie. please freddie this all i ask. the druid gave us an album but the BARD DIDNT?????? PLEASE WHY DOES HELL GET TO HEAR THE GLENN CLOSE TRIO BUT WE DONT. WAHHH

[jiraisupportgroup]

I’ve seen a lot of comparing of trauma in the community lately

If you get a cut on your finger you still need to clean and bandage it. You wouldn’t sit there looking at it and say “well it isn’t a gunshot wound so I can just ignore it”.

Maybe you do ignore it and it goes away on its own after a while, but it takes much longer to heal. Maybe you do ignore it and it gets infected and begins to cause other issues.

Sure, it’s not a gunshot wound and it won’t need surgery like a gunshot wound would, but it still needs to be cleaned and bandaged, and it will still leave a scar.

Even if it’s not as bad as it could be, it’s still not good; it’s still going to affect your life, and it still deserves to be acknowledged and taken seriously.

[paiigemahoney]

9-1-1 | Athena Grant-Nash

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Conceal, don't feel, don't let it show.

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