#“sorry i'm not empathetic / sorry you think i'm pathetic” ????

[palewolfcheesecake-blog]

tyler had NO right making 'sorry not sorry' the vibe that it is

[adventuringblind]

Safety In Your Arms

Dando x Reader

Genre: Hurt-comfort, maybe spicy via implied smut

Summary: Sometimes things go horribly wrong, nothing like what you expected, and it sends you hurtling towards emotions you never asked for. Lando and Daniel hate to see her this way.

Warnings: implied sexual content prior to and post incident, r@pe, anxiety, panic attacks, worried partners

Notes: Not sure this is exactly what you wanted because I don't write r@pe fantasies... regardless I hope the requester likes it :)

Side Note: Please leave notes! I think I might have been shadow banned recently as my fics are not being interacted with as much as they used to. Maybe it's just me being self-conscious because I know I couldn't care but I do.

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Her heart thumping in her ears is all she can hear. Just last night, this had been something special and intimate. It was beautiful and loving. Now a stranger thinks he take something that isn't his.

Daniel and Lando are the only ones aloud to touch her like this. Their touch sends shivers down her spine in a pleasant way. This man makes her burn. His grip keeping her pinned to the wall feels like lighter being held against the bare flesh of her hips.

She was almost to the room. Back to the safety of her boys. Just up the stairs and down the hall. Curse the elevator for not working.

She's not sure where the adrenaline comes from. Her fight or flight response is pulling from some unknown energy reserve. It's enough for her to push him off her.

He falls backwards down the stairs. He's disoriented but still conscious. He looks like he might fight his way back to her and finish what he started.

She bolts. Her legs carry her to the door of her shared room. Fists bang on the door in terror.

The door to the stairwell slams open. She leans her weight into the door and slides down. Tears stream down her face at the hopelessness she feels in this situation.

The door flings open. Daniel on the other side catches her crumbling body before it hits the ground. She pushes inside and finds the farthest corner of the room.

She sees the silhouette of the man come to face Daniel. Lando is crouched down in front of her, trying to coax some kind of explanation out of her. She's too worked up to respond.

The loud crack of Daniel's knuckles fills her ears. Her attacker stumbles backwards once more, this time he's out cold. His body falls to the ground, with a soft thud muffled only by the carpeted floors.

Lando exchanges a few words with Daniel. The ringing in her ears makes it hard to understand. It's not until Lando hands her his sweatshirt to hold and Daniel is on the phone that she registers the safety.

"He - He - I was -" She can't even get the words out. Not without realizing how pathetic she sounds.

"Okay, breathe now love, you're safe." She takes a few breathes with Lando. "Can we try some yes or no questions?"

She hesitantly shakes her head yes. Slowly, she reaches to Lando. He intertwines his fingers with hers and both of them relax.

"Did her hit you at all?"

Yes. When he first got her against the wall.

"Did he touch you anywhere intimate?" Lando looks like he's trying not to cringe.

Yes. Everywhere. It burns still.

Lando look on the verge of tears. He's always been empathetic, hurting with them. "Did he - did he rape you?"

She breaks. Burries her face in Lando's sweatshirt and wails. Lando is careful not to touch her in any harsh way; lets her lead him.

Daniel clambers onto the floor with them. She doesn't look at him, but she knows he's there and that's enough. "Love, I'm so sorry this happened to you. The authorities are on their way to take, whoever that was, away. The question now is how you want to go forward." Daniel takes a heavy breath before continuing when she doesn't respond. "We have to go to the hospital, love. I don't want you to suffer any more than you already have."

She's still crying as they bundle her up in Lando's sweatshirt and Daniel's sweats. The soft baggy ones she steals from him all the time regardless.

"Dan, what about... him?" Lando stares at the man lying on the floor. She has to will herself not to vomit at the sight of him.

"I'll meet you there, okay? The police should be here soon." Lando looks hesitant to leave without Daniel. The Aussie plants a reassuring kiss to his forehead. "Take care of our girl, yeah?"

By the time they get checked in, Daniel texts that he's on his way. She hasn't said anything else since the hotel room, but Lando kindly offers her one of his airpods. The music helps, if only a little.

The nurse takes her back to the room alone. She wails the entire time until they let Lando, now with Daniel on his heels, back with her.

She dissociates through the entire visit. Not coherent enough to answer anything but yes or no questions.

The next few days are more of them same. Only getting out of bed to sit in the shower. The water hot enough to burn away her skin.

Daniel tells Max they had an emergency but doesn't go into any details. Max lets them fly out with him. She doesn't talk to him. Too tired to use any energy on conversation.

Daniel and Lando respect her space. They ask before touching her. They announce their presences, especially if they are behind her.

The bruises fade eventually. It's not like the physical evidence was going to remain on her forever. Still, with his handprints gone for her sight, they burn her every time the area is touched.

She doesn't wear anything aside from Lando and Daniel's clothes that are too big on her. Not until they are back in Monaco for the summer break. Four months after the incident.

Daniel gently coaxes her out of the warm clothing. The boys give her space until she's ready to join them and respect her boundaries when she asks not to be touched.

Her skin still burns.

By the end of summer break, she's had time to work her way up to new things. Small bits of skin-on-skin contact and hugs are quickly becoming her new lifeline. She missed being able to not fear the touch of another. Her mind tends to forget she's safe and fights anyone who tries to get to close.

By September she's able to sleep in the same bed as them without waking up panicked that they are going to hurt her in some way. The nightmares remain, but now she clings to the two males when she wakes crying.

On a particularly charged night filled with celebrations. The three of them work through it at her pace. She sets boundaries like her therapist had told her to do. Daniel and Lando tell her everything they are going to do before they lay a finger on her.

She missed this.

She missed them.

Their hands don't burn her skin anymore.

[etheries1015]

Arlecchino having a (female) s/o who is extremely sensitive and cries frequently.

You'd think arlecchino would have something against dating someone like this. Crying is a sign of weakness in her eyes, and honestly you were no different. Despite your typically optimistic and flamboyant personality, you were incredibly sensitive. Just leave it to Arlecchino to pick probably the most sensitive person in the world to choose as her lover, right?

You saw a sad play? Tears streaming down your face. You saw a malnourished dog on the streets? Sobbing while spending your life's savings to help the poor thing. It starts raining? You're crying, too. "Its been raining so much...The hydro dragon must be in such misery. I wish I could help him." One of the kids called you "mother" for the first time? You're sobbing uncontrollably. Most of the time Arlecchino would roll her eyes and be mildly unomftorable around your tears, but you knew she still loved you. Especially moments that it truly mattered, she would mutter a "Stop crying..." And pat your head, or quietly engulf you in a hug. She couldn't fully understand why you were always so empathetic and crying all the time, however they do say opposites attract, right?

Most of the time she found it to be one of your weak points, crying so much means you aren't strong to save face, right? That you don't have what it takes? Crying all the time was something only the pathetic and unworthy do...right?

Arlecchino heard two voices. One was her lover, you, and the other was the feeble whimpers of a child. She made sure to stay hidden from behind the door frame, eavesdropping on the conversation, where you and the young boy were left unaware of her presence.

"Father says I...shouldn't cry. I'm sorry, mother, I..."

"Freminet," Arlecchino heard your voice strong yet sweet, her heart skipping a beat slightly. She hadn't heard you so...authoritative in a long while. So loving, gentle...and so confident. There was not a hint of hesitation in your voice.

"I understand you think very very highly of Arle. She gave you a life here, along with your siblings. I know you look up to her. But if there is one thing we, even as lovers, disagree on..." The sound of rustling caused Arlecchino to glance around the corner, quickly noticing how you were pulling the young boy into your arms.

"Tears are not a sign of weakness. It means you have a strong heart, a heart full of emotions just waiting to burst and let loose. Strength comes from standing up again despite the challenges you have faced, and what may have made you cry." You pulled back and wiped his tears before poking his chest above the spot where his heart lay. "You have a beautiful heart, freminet. Its healthy, and strong. Strength is purely subjective, we can each decide for ourselves what strength truly means. Don't let someone else decide that for you, no matter how much they may mean to you."

"But-" the blonde haired boy went to object you, only to be promptly cut off.

"Arlecchino has her own definition of strength and weakness, and so do I. They are completely opposite from one another. But that doesn't mean the love between us isn't real because of that. We all still love you for who you are, Freminet. You're growing to be a very fine young man, and I'm certain you will find your own definition of strength. Create it yourself, okay? Your soul is meant to grow into your own shape, not forcefully conform into someone else's." There was no words, only the sounds of light sobs as Freminet hugged you tightly. You smiled slightly and pat his back gently and comfortingly.

"If you ever need a shoulder to cry on or someone to talk to, I'm always here for you. You do not need to suffer alone."

Arlecchino could have sworn your gaze notice hers and lock eyes for but a moment, with a gentle smile placed upon your features. Quickly turning her heel and walking away, Arlecchino simply scoffed at the notion you were breaking down the principals she had built at the house of hearth.

Night had fallen and you entered your shared room with the Knave, who was currently laying in bed with the lights off and blankets covering her body. You strolled over to the bed, sitting down next to her as you gazed down to the quiet harbinger.

"Are you mad at me?" You inquired, "I know you heard what I told freminet. I assumed you would yell at me by now, about how crying isn't a sign of strength, and how I'm 'teaching them worthless things'. " You awaited a snotty response from your thickheaded lover, yet much to your surprise, there was no response. It was only when you sat your hand upon her shoulder did you notice the slightest tremble, your eyes widening before you were abruptly pulled down into the sheets with strong arms wrapping around you. Arlechinnos head tucked into your shoulder, you could feel wetness seep through your shirt. You smiled sadly and began to hold her back, stroking her soft black and white locks.

"I see you're taking my advice, huh? Did I strike a chord finally?"

"Shut up."

With a shaky voice and mild hesitation, Arlecchino had become far more vulnerable than she had ever felt before.

"You're a bad influence," she sighed into your shoulder, her grasp tightening. With a chuckle and another gentle kiss, you hummed in amusement. It wasn't long before you felt the trembling come to a halt and Arlecchinos breathing even out, you closed your eyes and began to drift off into sleep with your lover still in your arms.

Maybe crying wasn't as bad as she made it out to be. At least, not when she had someone to hold her tight all night.

[cheesit-notes]

Widowed Ghost

Ghost goes through the stages of grief... but only 4.

tags: hurt/virtually no comfort, throwing up, implied ghost didnt eat, or sleep, or take care of himself, 5 stages of grief, reader died, (first time) angst teehee

a/n: writing this made me feel better teehee. anywho, i love reader deaths (love u readers ♡)

widowed Ghost who cannot bring himself to cry when he hears the news. allowed to see you, or at least the hollow husk of you, he’ll glance at the mangled burned body that was once yours with a thousand thoughts yet no words to say. he’ll turn away, unable to face the reality.

for the week leading to your funeral, Ghost cannot, and perhaps purposely does not, process your death. he goes on with life as he usually would. but there are a few moments where he'll call out your name, intending to show you something, talk to you, or just because he wanted your attention. and those moments kill him inside. the silence, the lack of a response, the lack of you, kills him. for a few seconds to minutes at a time, he faces the reality that you're gone. for better or worse, his mind quickly convinces him you're simply busy. and he'll foolheartedly believe it. 

Ghost is silent the day of your funeral. he's forced to face the reality that you are gone; not just for a few seconds or moments at a time, but indefinitely. pitiful glances from empathetic faces and softly muttered 'I'm sorry's feel suffocating. he can't- doesn't want to believe it. you, in that god awful box? it can't be true. as cruel as it would be, he wishes this was all some sick joke.

blurred memories of being driven home, walking inside his house, and mindlessly walking into your once shared bedroom. and as he sits on the edge of the bed, it hits him. the cold, harsh reality hits him like a truck. you were gone. and there was nothing he could do about it. he hated this feeling. he hated feeling like a helpless little boy at the mercy of his heartless father; unable to do anything.

tears threaten to fall, his eyes burning to hold them back as he chokes on air. he hasn't cried in so long. always feeling like his problems didn't matter enough to cry. the feeling, it's nauseating. he feels like he's going to throw up.

he stumbles over to the bathroom sink because he knows you aren’t fond of cleaning up vomit after he got too drunk once. he never got that drunk again. he throws up the bits of food he forced himself to eat earlier because you were always worried about the lack of food he used eat. he didn’t want to worry you. and he looks at himself, and thinks he looks pathetic. pale, unkept, dirty, and he believes he's so undeserving of you; this is why you left him. that you left this world behind, left him behind, because he wasn’t enough to keep you here.

he’s mad at you for leaving him, and he’s mad at himself for being so.. him. and god, he thinks if anything was different about him, maybe you’d stay. doesn’t matter to him if you had no say in your own death, all that mattered was that you weren’t here now. reason had no place in a man blinded by pure fury. all he could think about was how unfair it was that you left him, and how he wasn’t enough to have you stay. maybe, he thought, if he was better, if he was anything else than the pathetic excuse of a man, maybe then you’d care a little more and be alive.

the blinded rage continues for hours. it began with thoughts of hatred he had towards you, himself, everything, but slowly began getting physical. he was never taught to use his words to express his feelings so they came out in actions. holding back tears he didn’t know he had, he took his rage out on anything that couldn’t fight back. a table flipped over and broken, chairs laid on their sides, everything pushed and shoved over leaving him standing in the empty space he created.

there’s no dreadful feeling like what he felt standing in the middle of the mess he made. he felt like his father; taking his anger out on things that couldn’t fight back. the arguable difference was the things Ghost took his anger out on wasn’t alive, but what difference did that truly make? perhaps if he had a kid, he would be his father’s replica. and he feared such a thought. with a heavy heart, he slowly put everything back where it once was, because you wouldn’t like the place being a pigsty.

he hates himself for this but for moments at a time, he’s convinced that it’s better you’re gone. he’ll never have to hear you nagging him to eat more, clean up after himself, go take a shower, take a break; never again. he’ll never be woken up by your laughs because you stayed awake, watching videos, for him to sleep. he’ll never be interrupted in anything again.

but who was he kidding? he misses it badly.

he misses hearing you tell him to eat more, threatening to force feed him if you caught him eating less. he misses you shoving him into the bathroom and yelling at him to shower because he stunk and you couldn’t stand the fact he just didn’t take care of his hygiene. he misses you forcibly taking him away from his work; the cruddy attempts of kidnapping him away from base and the way he’d begrudgingly play along. he misses you reassuring him that he could sleep, that you’d keep watch. he misses being woken up by your barely audible laughs, and how you frantically apologized for waking him. he misses resting his head on yours while the two of you stayed awake watching anything. he misses having someone who cared enough about him to do all that and more. 

he misses you.

[jacandra-cerise]

Not the first time I did something like this, but this one's mainly for fun, idk the actual name for this type of person I'm so sorry-

OOC? Possibly.

Version: Not specified

Silver with a Soft!Reader [Platonic&Romantic]

Platonic

How in the world can someone like you actually exist.

He would absolutely be questioning how the hell did he become friends with you.

The two of you were almost opposites. One was aloof and cold most of the time while the other was just a shy ball of sunshine-

You getting him to get you plushies would definitely be something he'd have to get used to.

And sometimes he'd have to deal with you worrying about him constantly. He keeps telling you that he can take care of himself, but he won't tell you that he appreciates it.

He'd scold you for how soft-hearted and naive you can be sometimes, while you'd tell him to be more kind to his Pokemon and others around him.

Your style of battling definitely made him deem you as weak. Relying on feelings like friendship and emotions? Pathetic.

At least that's what he thought. The more time he spent with seeing you battle, and him battling others as well [his rival specifically], he grew to understand and respect that belief.

In a way, your personalities kinda rubbed off on each other. You learned to be a bit more tough while he had gotten a bit more empathetic to those around him.

Both you and him have a hard time opening up to each other most of the time, with Silver feeling that it's difficult to talk about his troubles, but both of you will get there somehow!

Romantic

He would start questioning himself a lot more about how you both got together.

Both of your Pokemon and a few of your friends kinda made you both confess to each other.

Dear Arceus, you two were flustered messes as soon as they cheered after you both almost screamed 'I LOVE YOU' at each other.

Not really into PDA or giving affection through touch that much. Still hesitant to hold your hand in public most of the time. Behind closed doors? Kind of the same. It's not like he doesn't want to, he just isn't used to it and feels embarrassed-

This is the reason why you're usually the one giving him the affection like hugs, kisses, and others.

Would it be wrong to think he'd act like a tsundere-

Every time he looks at you, it's like there are multiple signs pointing towards you screaming 'hug me! I am very huggable!'

Hugs are common from you. It's rare if they come from Silver, but when he does, he prefers to hug you from behind.

He usually wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. He either puts his head on your shoulder or on top of your head just so that you can't see his blushing face.

As for kisses, he prefers to give you small pecks on the forehead.

[emocheremuha]

sorry I'm not empathetic (nah, I'm fuckin')

sorry you think I'm pathetic

[quicksilverdrabbles]

At Largashbur

Atub: The ritual requires Troll Fat and a Daedra Heart, so I may commune with Malacath.

Morana: *pulls Troll Fat and a Daedra Heart out of her satchel* Here you go.

Atub: Oh- You- you have that ready to go. How nice.

Xelzaz: We are Alchemists. Such ingredients are a necessity.

Atub: I see. Well then, follow me. You've brought the ingredients for the ceremony, and now I ask that you see it through.

Xelzaz: Why though-

Morana: Hm.. *notices Yaksha trailing behind a bit, looking dazed. Stops so he can catch up and pokes his shoulder to get his attention* ... Are you okay?

Yaksha: Hm? Yes, I am fine.

Morana: I can imagine strongholds aren't very comfortable for you. Was there anything like this in High Rock?

Yaksha: There were Orc Strongholds in High Rock. I.. was a healer for one.

Morana: Does it make you miss your home?

Yaksha: ... It is not a home anymore. But I do miss it.

Morana: I feel the same. I'm sorry. We'll try to get this over with quickly, alright?

Yaksha: *smiles, waving off her concerns with a shrug* We can take however long it takes to get this done. Please pay no mind.

Morana: Still..

~One ritual later~

Yamarz: Grr.. This is all your fault, you know.

Morana: Excuse me?

Yamarz: You barged into our stronghold, brought your whole clan of outsiders with you..

Morana: *glances back at her team with a frown* I was under the impression we were helping you. I apologize if we cause any offense-

Yamarz: And to top it all off you brought a worthless wimp of an Orc with you.

Morana: ... I'm sorry, who exactly are you referring to?

Yamarz: Who else? *points at Yaksha with a grunt* He's absolutely pathetic. Wields no weapon, avoids conflict, and picks flowers like a real Orc would pick off enemy heads. Don't think I didn't notice how he stayed away from the giant when you lot fought it off.

Morana: ... Yaksha is a healer. He doesn't like fighting.

Yamarz: Ha! Healer?! Healing is a woman's job! And what sort of Orc doesn't like fighting, the coward!

Morana: *her charcoal snaps between her fingers* ... Is that so.

Yamarz: It's Orcs like him that make Malacath so angry, really. Pathetic creatures that can't even lift a dagger in self defense don't deserve to call themselves Orsimer.

Yaksha: Hm? *turns and looks for Morana, noticing her still talking to Yamarz* ...?

Morana: *glances over at Yaksha*

Yaksha: ...! *waves sweetly, smiling*

Morana: ..... *reaches and yanks Yamarz down by the neck of his armor, leaning in and whispering in his ear quietly* Listen to me and listen well, Yamarz.

Yamarz: ?! What is the meaning of this-?? Let go of me!

Morana: Yaksha is the most talented, kind, empathetic person I have ever met. His healing would save thousands more lives than your lack of brains and surplus of brawn ever would. His clan thrived under his care, while yours suffers at your lack.

Yamarz: ...

Morana: One of you is the worse Orc, and it sure as hell is not him. And if you ever disrespect my friend again, I will brew a poison so strong, your intestines will recoil and expel themselves from your body, allowing you to learn what it feels like to vomit your own guts. I will allow you to choke on them and take pleasure in watching your slow and miserably painful death. Do I make myself clear?

Yamarz: *sweating, visibly afraid of the little Dunmer* ... Whatever.

Morana: Hmph. *releases him, turning and walking back towards the group without a second glance*

Yaksha: Are you alright, Morana? You seemed very angry just now.

Morana: *smiles, shaking her head to reassure him* Yamarz is a very mean person. He's irritating to have to talk to.

Yaksha: Mm..

Morana: Shall we set off for Fallowstone Cave, then?

Xelzaz: No? Why are we even helping him??

Morana: ...

Xelzaz: Morana?

Morana: Let's just follow along for now.

~

At Fallowstone Cave...

Yamarz: *watching the giants swarming the shrine nervously* ... You know..

Morana: *perched in a tree above him* Hm.

Yamarz: ... I have another offer for you. Some good gold in it, if you do. Go up there and retrieve that club for me. The stronghold would never know I never got it.

Morana: ... *shakes her head, a quiet huff of a laugh escaping her* No way.

Yamarz: Huh? Why not?

Morana: Putting my previous threat aside-

Kaidan: Threat???

Inigo: I'll tell you later.

Morana: -I will not go against what your God has ordered. Daedric Prince or not, Malacath or Trinimac, I have no wish to anger any sort of divine or hellbound being. You kill those giants on your own, or die trying.

Yamarz: ... Hmph. Fine. You just wait here, then. This will only take a moment. *draws his weapon and charges towards the giants with a battle cry, instantly getting launched into the air by their clubs*

Team Dragonborn: *watches him get launched, and follows his descent as he plummets back towards the ground and dies*

Morana: ... Welp. At least he wasn't lying when he said it would be quick. Inigo, may I borrow your bow?

Inigo: Of course, my friend. Er, but.. Can you-

Morana: I'll be fine. I know how to shoot at the very least, and it only needs to be strong enough to pierce their skin. *reaches down and takes the bow from Inigo along with a few ebony arrows, taking the tips of them and dousing them in a sizzling liquid*

Xelzaz: What on earth is that?

Morana: Take a guess.

Xelzaz: *hisses, recoiling at the smell* Jarrin root.

Morana: Yep. *draws an arrow, the other pinched between her fingers for the next shot. Fires, lodging the arrow in the biggest giant's neck and watching as it falls to the ground instantly*

Lucien: ... That stuff really is terrifying.

Inigo: Not as terrifying as Morana when she's angry, I think.

[the-monkey-ruler]

Why does no one acknowledge the Tang Monks trauma like at all? Most adaptions just call him a crybaby and move on with the story

I think that some interactions do it better than others but... I'm sorry you've only seen bad ones but there is a legit a LOT more good than bad.

At least in my expectations, I don't think I've seen Sanzang as a crybaby per se. Some make him stricter than others, or goofier, or sarcastic, or even laidback, but overall I think that more adaptions have made Sanzang really interesting and charismatic.

Bias choice but the 1996 西游记 I think is the favorite because of how empathetic he is, you can really see how he cares for both humans and demons and how he only wants them to have a second chance. 1986 西游记 also gives one of the best versions I have seen. 1999 西游记 makes him the tallest of the gang and honestly, I've never seen that again... wonderful vibes. He never lost faith in his disciples in Monkey King Reborn 西游记之再世妖王 (even during that ending rip). But I think each one shows that he is a compassionate guy that is TRYING HIS BEST.

Might be an unpopular take but I also really love the Monkey King 2 2016 西遊記之孫悟空三打白骨精 Sanzang as well cause HE JUST CARES A LOT AND I think that storyline really hits home that he blames himself for every trial they go through when other people are hurt. Every life Wukong takes is a life on his head and he FEELS it. I know it's not perfect but really love how they show the weight of GUILT that Sanzang feels and that is why he lashes out. It was one thing after another he had no one else to blame.

I haven't seen a lot where he is pathetic per se (Chinese Odessey at most but even then he was just annoying for comedic effect), but honestly, I kinda would like to see some more where he cries more. Cause honestly I find it rare to see adaptions that make him visibly upset so seeing a take where we get a lot of emotion is always a treat. And I'm not talking about like disappointed anger every once and a while but letting tears of frustration or tear or relief after being saved. He is actually quite an emotional guy and would love to see that range being played with.

But yeah most versions I've seen him always portray him for what he is. A kind compassionate guy that is a little too naive or a little too trusting and makes mistakes and tries to find a way to make each trial he faces a lesson he can learn from and grow. He ain't perfect, hell no, he makes a lot of bad choices (but also there needs to be... PLOT so ya know) and I like to think that he has to figure it out a lot with the help of the three most unlikely people in his life.

[citruscloudsandmoon]

Hi sis!

As someone who supports Palestine, I think I can share this with you as an Indian. Most of the Indians are saying that India should support Israel because it helped India during dark times. Yes, I appreciate it but how can I even bear to see them destroying a nation? So, should Indians support a a genocide where over 5000 children got killed in the past one month? Does it mean that I should consider someone as a close friend even if they are harming others? Just because they helped another nation, it doesn't give them the right to destroy another.

I'm a Hindu girl, but as a human being it's pathetic to see another nation crumbled regardless of what religion they are.

(Sorry for the long rant 😔).

Hello ❤️

Before religion, comes humanity. So it doesn't matter if you are Hindu or not; right is right and wrong is wrong. And what Israel is doing is beyond wrong; they are basically raising hell by torturing civilians in every way for more than 70 years.

Quoting your words 'Most of the Indians are saying that India should support Israel because it helped India during dark times'. There are different ways of viewing this statement. The political view would be that India should definitely support Israel because it always aided them in times of trouble and havoc. The socioeconomic view would be that India should support Israel because it has all the power and the backing of strong nations hence India supporting them means it will come under the big leagues.

But if looking at the said statement from moral perspective; India shouldn't support Israel because what they are doing is large scale genocide. And considering India's own past who had once been colonised by white rulers for about 89 years….it should know well enough about the pain and the suffering of Palestinians because their own ancestors went through it.

So Hun, don't feel bad. Don't feel guilty for supporting Palestinians. It just shows you value humanity above everything and that you are empathetic and have a very kind heart. And I know a lot of Indians that are supporting Palestinians and they aren't even Muslims. Americans, Latinas, blacks and browns all are supporting Palestinians despite their home nations vocally supporting Israel like US, UK and Canada. Should they be counted as traitors?! Absolutely not!

[yulin-pop]

↛ ❀ Love quotes

Kalim Al Asim

“C’mere, don’t be shy.”

It’s disheartening to see how busy you are all the time. As a prefect, you’re rather busy with many things. He doesn’t often catch you at a moment where you’re free.

He’s met with the same disappointment every time he tries to hang out with you. You seem pretty bothered lately too. Everytime you two would converse in a short amount of free time, you seem pretty disinterested and stressed.

In another attempt to spend time with you, he invited you to one of his parties. It took a little bit of pestering but promised your presence!

The whole duration of the party he ran up to you every 10 minutes and asked if you were having a good time. You always shrugged and quietly said yes and he resumed his festivities with everybody else. He really didn’t talk to you much.

“How have things been? We were so busy with the games that I forgot to ask you.” He approached you from behind you and came to your side. You looked up at the sky, it happened to be a full moon that night.

“Not so thrilling. The best way to put it, I’ve been dealing with some heavy stuff. I’ve been making full reports of the past overblots and it’s no easy task. I also have to make up for tests Grim failed.” You didn’t even glance at him while explaining your troubles. “I dropped Grim off at the dorm already but I came here to pick up stuff I left.” You looked up at the sky with a bored expression.

The whole point of inviting you was to make you feel better but clearly it didn’t work. If anything, it bored you and wasted your time. Kalim came up beside you and stared empathetically.

“I'm sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it.”

Something brushed at your ankles and you turned around and looked at the magical carpet. You remember when you escaped Scarabia with it that one time.

“Eh? What’s up? …Oh, you think so? If you insist.” Kalim and the carpet converse for the short minute before Kalim takes a step onto it. The carpet moved into the open area in front of the balcony.

“That’s dangerous, isn’t it?” You expressed your concern while staring up at him.

“Not when it’s me! I’ve been doing this since I was a little kid.” He extended his hand out to you. You shook your head and laughed, that enough was to say “no way.”

“Aw c’mon. Don’t cha’ trust me?” He laughed back while you just smiled with confusion.

“I do but I don’t trust myself.” What a plain response. “It’s dangerous too.”

“That’s why it’s so fun. I promise if you come with me today then I’ll buy you lunch for the next week— no a month!” He offered. You raised an eyebrow and leaned forward.

“For real?”

“Yeah!”

Kalim moved closer with an inviting grin, “C’mere don’t be shy.”

You debated in your head for a second before lifting your head with a weak grin. “Can’t fight that, now can I?”

Kalim held his hand out. You looked at the thick railing, it should be able to support your weight. You hopped onto it and unsteadily readied yourself to hop on.

Kalim was fully prepared to catch you if you happened to not make the jump. “C‘mon!”

“This is…” You tried not to look down as your legs twitched, wanting to move but the fear enabling you not to. You changed to yourself and braced yourself for the jump.

Thank the seven, you actually made it. Kalim pulled you up and you settled in a more comfortable position.

“Why couldn’t you just have moved closer so I didn’t have to jump?” You grimaced while sweating.

“I wanted to see if you’d take the risk!”

“What’s the point in that?”

You could feel the carpet begin to move at Kalim’s command. You looked down for a spilt second before jumping into Kalim’s arms and burying your head in the crook of his neck.

“Woah! What’s wrong?” He asks while leaning his neck to the side at the sudden movement.

“It’s sorta high up…” You stated the obvious and you felt so pathetic saying it with such a frightened tone.

You moved away and looked face to face. His expression was completely different from what it was just a moment ago.

“We can go higher.”

“No. NO KALIM—!”

He moved forward and grabbed the corners of the carpet, causing it to speed up and the altitude to increase.

“Ahahaha!” He laughed as you wrapped your arms around his neck and attempted to distract yourself from how high it was.

You could feel the wind hit your cheeks and blow your hair back while you desperately hugged onto Kalim.

You whispered curses into his ear but it didn’t stop the fun he was having. “Are you okay?”

“No…!” You put your hands on his shoulder to look down at him. He sat on his bottom while you kneeled. You had your eyes shut the whole time, much to the displeasure of Kalim.

“Open your eyes. It’s really pretty!” He suggested while holding onto your waist.

You shook your head, almost hitting his head in doing so. “No way! We’re too high up.”

He hasn’t seen you this expressive since a few months ago. He thought you were cool when you kept calm in severe situations but seeing you like this made you feel a lot more… human?

He brought his hand up to pat you on the head but you quickly swatted his hand away.

You still had your eyes closed but you stopped clinging onto him so much. “This isn’t what I expected when I initially hopped on, Kalim. Well at least I know you’re the same as ever.” You relaxed your body and slowly opened your eyes.

“Look.” Kalim softly said while pointing at the sky behind you. You cranked your head just enough to see.

Your lips parted in a pleasant surprise. “I’ve never seen the moon so bright…”

Your eyes locked on the unusual sight. The light had been so dull just a moment ago but now it was almost overwhelming.

❤︎︎

“Woah be careful!”

“Sorry I’m a bit drowsy.”

You stumbled as you hopped off the carpet. It hovered above three feet above the floor but the drop concerned him.

“Good night, thank you for that Kalim.” You stared up at him. “Oh wait— I left a few of my things there.”

“You can swing by Scarabia tomorrow! Maybe you could stay and hang out a little.”

Yes, in truth it was an excuse for some time with you, even though he knew it’d be short.

“Hm, maybe I’d like that.” You crossed your eyes and smiled to yourself.

“Really? I’ll see you there then!”

“There’s no need to be so excited about it. You should head back so you can get proper rest. Good night, sleep well.”

“Good night, MC!” He waved.

Note: Kalim shitpost

[harpoonlover00]

I'm sorry, I'm sorry I don't see you more

I'm sorry that the four minutes where you see your son could feel like a chore

Sis', I'm sorry I'm your kin

Sorry we ain't close as we should've been

Sorry to my old friends

The stories we coulda wrote if our egos didn't take the pen

Sorry to the freaks I led on (nah, for real, I'm sorry)

Who thought their life was gonna change 'cause I gave 'em head on

But instead, I sped off, yeah, I know I'm dead wrong

Sorry to the guys I had to hide

Sorry to the girls I had to lie to

Who ain't need to know if I was by the lake switchin' tides, too

Anyway, I don't wanna talk

Sorry if you gotta dig for info I don't wanna give

So you stalk, make up fibs

Just to talk 'bout my private life 'cause you weird (uh)

Met that girl this year (but), that's none ya biz

Give enough with my art, know your place

My personal space, y'all don't need to to be a part

I'm sorry I don't wanna link (I don't wanna link)

And small talk over dinner, I don't even drink

Can't guilt trip me, I'm ice cold, roller rink

Nigga-nigga-nigga, read the room

Don't assume niggas is cool

Stay in your pocket, this is pool

Blah, blah, blah, blah 'bout trauma

You ain't special, everybody got problems, uh

Sorry I'm not empathetic

Sorry you think I'm pathetic

Sorry I don't wanna bro down, sorry I don't know your pronouns

I don't mean no disrespect, but, damn, we just met, calm the fuck down

Oh, I'm out of touch and I'm a jerk?

A bank account could never match my worth (that nigga gettin' money, he a dick now)

Sorry Mother Earth, pollutin' air with chemicals and dirt

These cars ain't gonna buy and drive theyselves

What the hell you think I work for?

Not to not explore and stay the same

Sorry to the fans who say I changed, 'cause I did

Sorry you don't know me on a personal level to pinpoint what it is

Sorry to my ancestors (I'm so sorry), I know I'm supposed to fight (I know)

But this ice shinin' brighter than a black man's plight, I'ma make it right

In the meantime, I'll give some advice while these blood diamonds gettin' cleaned off

Nigga, fuck the price, spend it then, then again

I can't save niggas, I'm not Superman, but I could try

I'm sorry I'm pretentious

Sorry that the talent, knowledge, passion isn't missin'

Sorry when I talk my shit and I could back it up with confidence

It get you niggas trippin', man

Fuck the numbers, fuck a hook

You put me on a stage and I'll show you the difference

Let me see y'all hit a stage (no, y'all can't do it)

Let me see y'all write a page (y'all not gon' do it)

Let me see you make a decision I made

And claim that I don't know about minimum wage or Section 8

Water in the ketchup bottle to stretch when niggas ate

Gettin' pressed by niggas hoppin' gates

Thinkin' it's normal 'cause you ain't supposed to make it past 18

Or escape the Figure 8 cycle

And I promise this is like a diet

I'ma make a way and I did, did

Feel good, work paid off, now we gon' celebrate

But niggas claim you arrogant

When they can't relate to moments of feelin' great

So they aim, duck-duck-duck 'em

Shot right back, buck-buck-buck 'em

Sorry, not sorry (buck 'em, buck 'em)

I got two words, fuck 'em

Okay, cool

And like that

We really mean it this time

I guarantee another era is upon us

So once again, we gone

[thewholecrew]

they were gone now kassy assumed, that after octavia came to tell her she too was going with nick that they would leave. she sat in the guest room on the floor for what felt like hours after that, arms wrapped around her knees as she stared unseeing at the wall. tears clouded her gaze, spilling every so often down her cheeks but she had settled from the painful sobs that had wracked through her after nick made his decision. she couldn't think about it, couldn't think about the two most important people to her leaving her, putting themselves in grave danger to try and bring back someone who let them down time and time and time again. she couldn't think about the torture nick had been through or that the man responsible for that had left with grant unharmed. that nick was going to risk putting himself through that again, that octavia could get hurt. that they could both die.

a painful, horrified sob escaped her at that and she dipped her head, hugging her knees tighter to her chest as she wept. she could hear alecs voice muffled on the other side of the door before he returned moments later with a tray of something but she couldn't care less. how could she eat, how could she function when at any moment they could get shot or tortured, maimed, killed. alec spoked quietly to her, hesitant at first as a hand touched her shoulder and she flinched away, shaking her head. "i'm so sorry kassy," he said quietly, his own voice thick with emotion as he tried again, wrapping his arms around her and she couldn't help as she turned into him, clinging to his shirt. "why? why would they do this? why can't they... why would they risk themselves....?" why would they leave me? she knew why, deep down, but it didn't seem to matter.

"what am i supposed to do? how am i supposed to just... just be here? waiting for a stupid text that they're alright? what if they lie? what if they--" her voice broke as she shook her head, trying to find comfort as alec rubbed her back and held her as tight as he could but it was useless. "i can't.... i can't stay here," she whispered, heart aching painfully in her chest as her eyes shut tight, hands fisted in his shirt. "i can't stay here... i--" she shook her head. imagining coming home from classes now to this home, to nicks home without nick? with all his things and all the memories and not knowing if he would ever come back? to remember the pain and struggle he went through recovering only to leave and risk it happening again?

"okay, it's okay kassy... you don't have to stay here, you can come stay with me," alec offered quietly as he rocked her in his arms, sitting on the floor beside her now as his blue eyes were glossy with the same fear and pain kassy felt along with the empathetic pain for how broken she appeared because of it. "do.. do you want to do that?" he asked as he hugged her tight and she whimpered with a nod. after everything they all went through she couldn't understand it. "i hate him," she whispered through her tears as she shook her head. "i hate him, i hate him, i hate him!" she felt like a child throwing a tantrum but anger swelled in her chest, hatred burning hot for grant as she replayed his pathetic goodbye to her in her head. all he did was hurt them and this... this was the most unforgivable act he could have done.

alec hugged her tighter as she cursed grant against his chest, he felt guilty as though he was standing in the middle because he had adored grant and octavia together, had rooted for them and in a way he still did but he could never tell kassy that, and now he felt as if he shouldn't. he too thought back to the injuries nick had endured, to the trauma octavia had been through and then when they needed him most, he left. tears spilled down his cheeks as he nuzzled his cheek against kassy's hair. his heart hurt for everyone, there was no good in any of this and he just hoped for everyone's sake octavia and nick would return safe. "alec..." she whimpered, "alec if they--- if something happens to them--- i-- i can't--- i don't think i could---" alec shook his head as a pained noise escaped him, "no! no, no kassy don't think that, don't say that, they're going to be okay!"

she hoped they would be, clung to that because if they didn't make it back to her safely it would kill her. she wept in his arms until exhaustion set in, tears still streaking her cheeks but her eyes were closed as she leaned into alec, focusing on the comforting touch of his hands as they soothed along her back and through her hair. eyes shut tighter and she pressed her face against his chest, forcing away any thoughts of nick, of octavia and how they would be there to comfort her. swallowing thickly, her jaw ached from how tight she had it clenched before finally she drew away from alec to sit up. he was a little reluctant to release her but did, hands going to his lap as he looked at her with a sad, trembling smile.

"i'm going to pack..." she told him in a deadened tone, closing down and almost finding relief in the numbness that enveloped her. alec's eyes shimmered with grief as he nodded, "i can help?" he offered, "i... i can start if you want something to eat here...? or... drink?" he gestured back to the tray and her eyes dropped unseeing to it. alec managed to get kassy sitting on the bed with a cup of coffee in her hands when he started to get out her suitcase and pack away some clothing. she sat there, staring into the black liquid for a while though she could feel that anger and hatred slowly building up once again, trying to drag her down, pushing against the numbness that shielded her in this moment.

some time passed and alec hurried around nicks home to gather the most essential things of kassy's along with her school bag and any paperwork. it was when he was bringing them to the front door that kassy slowly rose from the bed, the cooling coffee in her hands untouched when that wave of unbridled rage broke through and she sucked in a pained breath before she screamed out in frustrated agony, whipping the mug across the room as it shattered against the wall. alec gasped, darting towards her as he hugged her, pulling her away from the shattered shards of the coffee mug, "kassy," he whimpered, so out of his depth in this moment as tears streaked her cheeks again. "c-come on... we're done here.... we're done... let's go..." his voice was soft and urgent as he lead her unseeing eyes to the door, helping her dress before they left without giving the place another look.

[dairy-farmer]

Your brutim is so on point! All the delicacy I enjoy from these two.. their similar ways of thinking, sturbon yet empathetic nature, sort of naive vision due to resorceful upbrinigng, hubris of rich boys who get used to the world bend as their wish. They are detectives with keen eyes but almost blind to Their own feelings. Tim being such an loyal, obedient sidekick with noble heart AND acts like caretaker of his own mentor too? 😂 I love them being each other's mommy-daddy even without realizing what they are doing. Thats why I love your Roman Charity work so much! It's so believable! Tim would definitley force himself to lactate to save Bruce, his batman from starving. And if bruce acts like sturbon nine-year-old again by refusing profer diet and nap schedule? He would bribe him with omegan milk while faking scolding stone face lol. But on bruce's part... when tim having his life outside of robin duty, bruce is so pathetic, secretly throwing tantrums like 10. I just LOVE how bruce crashed tims date multiple times 😂 Your thread about this pathetic bruce who misses his own sex therapy with little timmy who valunteered without hasistation IS SO GOOD. I read it over and over, its short, but has so much potential!! Do you have any wip or plot for similar idea? I would love to hear about it... 👀

(PS. English is not my first language, so anything misconveyed or lost in translation is on me)

thank you so much!!! i'm so happy you enjoy my characterizations of them both!!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ it really means so much!!!!

the thread you mentioned here in your submission is definitely one of my favorites!!! (and sorry about the confusion!! i know that the ask button on my tumblr might be a little difficult to spot especially since it can be confused by the submission box right next to it!!) i hope you don't mind but i combined your ask with another one that also expressed interest in tim's 'catch and release' program au!!!

i don't have a full length fic in the works but i do have some thoughts!!!

i love the dynamic of one where bruce is this emotionally needy and dependent person who DOES feel better when he's around tim and especially when he's fucking tim!

tim, on the other hand, willingly spreads his legs for bruce because he can see it helps him. it makes bruce less violent and less angry, allowing bruce to fuck his pussy and cum deep inside him is something that genuinely works so he keeps doing it!!

the only catch is...tim's not all that into bruce. tim is attracted to boys his age, who share his interests. he's at that age where he's fascinated with boys in leather jackets, who ride skateboards, who have tattoos, who smoke, who have piercings. tim likes stoners, bad boys- all the kinds of boys TV tries to scare you away from.

he also likes boys like his friends. one's that like scifi movies, and wizards and warlocks, boys he meets in chatrooms that like talking about detective novels and unsolved mysteries.

tim likes and is attracted to those boys. he fucks bruce because it's his job and it helps. he's robin for the exact same reason.

bruce has crows feet and wrinkles. he spends all day in uncomfortable suits and he fucks tim just a little too hard. enough that his cervix throbs in protest afterward. but tim never says anything because he's supposed to let bruce fuck him the way he likes.

so when bruce starts getting better (less violent and homicidal, starts coming home less injured) tim absolutely delegates less time to bruce!!

before, tim used to fuck bruce at minimum once a day. it usually ended up more like three or four. but now that bruce's condition and mental state have improved - tim only fucks him three or four times a week.

tim starts accepting dates with boys again. he messages boys he finds attractive online and sends photos of himself to them. photos of his pretty little tits, pictures of his soft, pink cunt.

sexting.

that's what bruce calls it when he catches tim reclined on his bed and taking a photo of himself in his underwear. it's not even the worst photo tim's ever sent but bruce makes him delete them as well as delete all the boys in his contacts he was sending them to.

tim whines about it, kicking up a fuss about it. but a week later he messages them all again.

bruce is harsh sometimes, telling tim that no he can't go out on a date because they have patrol. no, he can't spend the night at the house of a boy he met online! absolutely not!

tim doesn't understand why bruce acts like this.

he tells tim he's just being an adult but tim's parents had never acted like this. they hadn't cared if one of tim's friends spent the night in his room or if he spent the night in theirs. when tim had asked to get on birth control they hadn't even hesitated to drive him to a doctor.

either way. tim finds away to go out any way because sometimes bruce is softer.

sometimes he's quiet as he asks tim to stay in tonight or to join him in bed, please. but bruce fucks tim really hard when he gives in and tim doesn't want to be all, sore, messy, and sweaty for his date so he promises bruce each time - when i come back, alright?

we can have sex when i come back i promise.

but then...well...tim forgets sometimes.

his tits are sore from getting sucked on and his pussy is filled to the brim with hot cum courtesy of a boy that works at the pretzel stand in the mall that tim's had a huge crush on for a long time.

most of the time bruce is already asleep anyway so tim just breathes a sigh of relief and rolls into bed, sticking his fingers into his wet, used cunt and humming with satisfaction at the thickness inside him.

tim does remember sometimes though. when bruce pesters him too much. on patrol. in the batmobile. in the cave. in the manor.

tim gives in sometimes just to get him to stop asking.

he moans just like how bruce likes, clenches down on the cock inside him and feels as bruce groans against his cheek, rutting hard and fast into his little cunt.

but it's like giving a dog a treat. as soon as tim gives bruce just a little taste he comes back begging for more.

sometimes tim lets him play with his body for awhile.

tim will be lying on the couch reading a magazine and bruce will come in and lift up tim's skirt to expose his underwear. he'll push tim's legs onto his shoulders and lick him through his underwear for a while before pushing the fabric aside and fucking his tongue into tim's twitching insides.

it doesn't feel bad per se....

tim does like when bruce's tongue traces his sensitive clit until it's throbbing. but it's hard to ignore that it's bruce between his legs. bruce's hands are hard and calloused. tim likes the feeling of softer hands. bruce eats him out with military precision, intent on making tim feel good. tim likes it sloppier. boys hardly know what to do with pussies so tim likes sitting on their faces or pressing their heads between his legs and teaching them how to do it just the way he likes. wrapping his fingers into their hair and directing them while tim rolled his pussy against their faces.

eventually, tim would get just too grossed out at bruce's old man slobber getting on his kitty and push him away.

he'd be met by a hurt and disappointed look and tim would assure him that it was good but it just wasn't working for tim.

in the showers after patrol bruce would try his luck again. rubbing his hard cock against tim's back, pressing his thick fingers inside and scissoring tim's cunt as bruce ground closer in anticipation. tim feels a bit of pity and lets bruce rut against his wet folds, trying to convince himself to get into it but it just...doesn't work. so tim pushes him away citing tiredness.

but bruce is persistent (or desperate). even when they're sparring bruce will tug tim close and hump him like he's the family dog going to town on a stuffed animal. tim lets him, just the stuffed animal does. tim lets bruce cup his pussy and squeeze his butt. bruce lays open-mouthed kisses on tim's braless tits separated by a very thin shirt. but tim still can't get aroused for it so he pushes him away, promising bruce they'll fuck at night but right now they're training.

it's not that tim leads bruce by the nose ALL the time. sometimes bruce does keep his promise. (he needs to keep bruce's temperament in check after all)

sometimes tim even surprises bruce.

when bruce picks him up from school tim will thank him with a blow job. gently suckling the head and then bobbing up and down until bruce pushes his head all the way down to the root, groaning as he cums in tim's mouth.

tim licks him clean and bruce is content the rest of the day.

after a particularly hard day, tim will climb on bruce's lap and ride him until the stress of the day melts away and he can sleep.

time DOES like bruce. he cares for him a lot too.

he just...doesn't like fucking bruce.

it feels good! it always feels good! bruce knows how to make him cum really good! but tim's only doing this until bruce is well enough.

so maybe tim gets...a little distracted. bruce had started fucking him harder and deeper after he caught tim texting a boy under the pillows while bruce was inside him (which tim apologized for!).

tim does get into it sometimes. he likes sex so it's not a hard mindset to settle into. the hard part is liking sex with bruce.

so tim goes on his dates, hooksup and fucks until his pussy is throbbing with aches. he notices bruce is acting just a bit more violent, a little more hostile in the intervals of time where tim is putting him off more.

so tim starts putting out more.

laying on his back, getting on his front, riding bruce, sucking his cock.

he reinforces it with praise, telling bruce he's doing a good job.

and it...doesn't work perfectly.

so tim dedicates more of his time to bruce, hugging and kissing him. he stops going out on dates because he needs to fuck bruce steady again. he can't text boys back because bruce wants tim to suck his cock for hours.

it's a hassle not being able to see the boys he likes but bruce takes priority. between him and them, bruce wins out every time.

and about a week into their marathon fucking it bruce seems to realize that when tim is lying on his chest and tracing shaps into his skin with a finger while they're both naked on the couch. a movie is playing on the screen and bruce is idly stroking tim's sweaty back while his cock is buried deep into tim's cunt.

they've both already cum but bruce is keeping his cock inside to keep the mess of cum plugged inside.

tim's not looking at bruce's face. he doesn't see this...dawning expression of realization. doesn't see how bruce's brows furrow in thought. and he certainly doesn't see the pensive expression of bruce thinking, considering, and planning.

maybe if tim had seen it he would've been more protective of his birth control and not kept it in bruce's bedside drawer.

because the thing is that tim is someone who takes responsibility for his mistakes. if he messes up then it's on him to fix it.

only that bruce doesn't want him to.

tim is in high school and pregnant with the baby of a man twice his age. tim took the test nearly six times to confirm before informing bruce.

he needed someone to drive him to a clinic afterall.

but then...bruce gets this look on his face. this gentle surprise was followed by the slow creep of a smile. not the condescending type of smile tim has come to know.

that night is the first-night bruce returns to the cave without a single injury.

and that's....that's not a small thing. because tim has been working with bruce for almost a year, he still hasn't been given the go-ahead to become robin. he's still in training and he can't be out there to watch bruce's back so more often than not bruce returns injured.

until the night tim told him he was pregnant.

tim listened through coms, he watched through the camera of bruce's cowl and...something in his chest stuttered.

because that was batman. not the angry hurting one that had been lashing out at himself and everyone- that was batman.

and tim...tim's always been a smart kid. he can see things and instantly understand what's happening so when he sees bruce's performance dramatically increase after the news its...

tim knows the score. he understands better than most people what the tenuous peace and justice that batman brings to justice means.

and tim was prepared to make every sacrifice to make sure batman remained that hope and symbol the city needed.

he was going to be robin to help bruce, but if this does as well....

tim doesn't mind plans shifting or changing. it's about batman. it's always been about batman and if this is what does it, if this is what works then...

he'll do it.

tim will do it.

[midwest-crybaby]

"Sorry I'm not empathetic (Nah, I'm fuckin')

Sorry you think I'm pathetic

Sorry I don't wanna bro down"

[juupajaa]

How do you cope with guilt without resorting to ED behaviours? I hurt someone today (emotionally). Really badly. They spent money, effort, and time on something that I completely forgot about and got wasted.

They got mad, and then they forgave me but I can't forgive myself. I feel so guilty and it's almost impossible for me not to listen to my ED thoughts now. Because I feel like I deserve them.

I'm sorry to burning you like this and wasting your time, but do you have any advice for me?

Thank you anyways (I'm sorry)

Don't be sorry, I love giving armchair therapy to anons ✌

I'm thinking you should try to think about what you're trying to accomplish by punishing yourself. Who does it benefit exactly? Is the person you hurt feeling better because you're punishing yourself? I doubt it, especially since they already forgave you. A more productive way to channel the guilt would be to try to make it up to the person you hurt. Try to do something nice for them instead. A "I'm sorry" gift can go a long way, or a proper written apology with your heartfelt regret (or face to face if you prefer).

It can be super tempting to keep wallowing in the self loathing (we all do it here and there), but you really have to take a step back and notice that it doesn't help the situation. This might be a hot take from me, but self-flagellation only helps you yourself feel better, which is a pretty cowardly way out of the feelings of guilt. A healthier and overall more positive way through guilt is making amends.

As for what I personally do to avoid disordered behaviour, I am doing pretty well nowadays so it's barely even any trouble anymore, but I like to be really mean to my ed brain whenever it pops up. When I notice disordered thoughts, I go out of my way to point out how stupid and lame and pathetic they are, and how much wiser and kinder I am in reality, compared to my ed voice. This of course only works if you have already thought about your disordered thoughts logically and sensibly beforehand, which is something we all have to do if we want to recover. When it comes to recovering and coping with difficult emotions, the key is the skill to separate your ed brain from your own sensible and empathetic brain, by thinking about your disordered thoughts when they're not overwhelming you, so you have arguments against them later when they take over during distress.

So once again, to resolve the guilt you feel, instead of letting your disordered thoughts do the thinking, try to find the wiser and kinder brain you have and see what it says about the situation. I'm pretty sure it would agree that instead of focusing on how bad you should be punished, it would try to come up with ways to make the hurt person feel better.

And in case you need to hear it from me: We all make mistakes, forget things, mess up and hurt others. It's unavoidable and understandable. Try not to dwell on it too long babe 💕

[incoherentbabblings]

Who would you say you're favourite writers are for Tim and Steph? Both as invididuals and together.

Ooooooooooooooooh!!!!! Good question! It likely changes with each new writer that comes on board and I'm sure I'm unpopular with these choices but whatever maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan don't judge.

But currently it's Fitzmartin's Steph and Tynion's Tim.

Which. Okay. Wait. Wait.

PUT DOWN THAT KNIFE.

Okay, to expand on others, it's more like bits and pieces I like rather than the whole. Often, for example, I like that characterisation but think the plot is stinking.

So, for Steph, I like Valentine's go at her in Catwoman, although she didn't get much to do with her, but she gets that determination whilst also being empathetic and utterly lost and desperate for validation which I liked, but never at the expense of her own morals. I like Lewis' Steph, he allows her to be flawed and angry and grieving whilst being witty and sharp and just in love. I like Cloonan's because her Steph is - for lack of a better term - soft af, if only she'd make Steph a little bit more act her age.

But as for Fitzmartin... I just love her Steph; she has that sharp wit and is heartbreakingly kind, she's definitely more self sacrificial than any other writer on the list makes her. She's desperate to help and she sits nestled in a part of Tim's heart that he's very vulnerable to, romantic or otherwise, to the point where I think you could argue it unnerves him to the point of avoidance. So yeah, I like Meghan's Steph.

Dixon and Miller I like too, simply because they are her… well. Her creators (as Spoiler and Batgirl respectively) therefore the most 'objective' one can be as a character writer but… well. I like my Steph more empathetic than what Dixon writes and a bit more serious than what Miller writes.

As for Tim... I like Yost's Tim because he's really flawed but also you understand the entire time of why he does what he does, even if you disagree, and I think that's a really good writer that can pull that off. I like Lewis' too - he overthinks and overthinks but he's at his most gentle and 'normal' I think, like the definition of a high school sweetheart. I genuinely don't mind Bendis', he's certainly very heroic and single minded, albeit just a little de-fanged and generic too.

Again though, I can't really say Dixon because I like my Tim's a little bit... more pathetic. Sorry Tim.

So that's why it's Tynion for me. He's at points two steps from becoming a lunatic, he makes choices and decisions based entirely off that bullshit love vs fear dichotomy from Star Wars or Donnie Darko and shockingly it ends badly for him. He's so desperate to help and leave behind something of value because he doubts his own worth. He thinks Bruce kind of sucks but has resigned himself to being his caretaker at the expense of his own happiness. He struggles to relate to people outside these constructions he builds for them so when people act outside his perceived norm he is completely thrown and digs his heels in going 'no this time it will work no this time it will work' - which, definition of insanity right there.

Together as a couple its Lewis and Tynion, not even a competition.

Lewis for 'first love first real love it's gentle and tentative and they both make mistakes but it's worth trudging through because they trust the other to hold onto and share that pain because it's unconditional and they've never had that before' versus Tynion for 'I'm not sure if this love is healthy at this point but they both drive the other to insanity and pull them back from the brink they're their home their source of identity they literally can't do this without the other next to them' which. Guh!

Different moods depending on the day you know? Do I want soft first love? Or do I want balls to the wall 'you left home so I panicked became a dictator and shot people in the head'? Both are good. Both fill different voids in my heart.