#((and this is what i call a late reply--

[homuncvlus]

I'm so stupid

[bunnihearted]

.

[jrueships]

I'm shy but you're one of my favorite people that I follow on this app. You're so funny and I wish I could be half as clever as you. You've introduced me to a lot of interesting people and ideas! Just wanted to pass on some appreciation on this Saturday night. Hope you're having a good time 🥰

THIS IS SO SWEET, HELLO????

[guardiandamned]

Ryouga doesn't know how to face Yuma.

God, it pisses him off. That he's still such a coward, even now, who doesn't know what to say to the boy who should be his friend. ...Or is he an enemy?

Even now, he doesn't know what to think. It wasn't easy, turning his back on Yuma and the people he'd grown to love to fight for the Barians after remembering the truth of it all. It had been painful, hard, and cruel. ...But even that feels easier now than this shitty uncertainty that haunts him now, pulling him in two different directions, making him want to scream and just give up, but-

He can't. Not yet.

After he'd lost that duel to Yuma, he'd wanted so bad to believe that a miracle really was possible. If only he could put his faith in him one last time... but now that Ryouga's been revived, months into the past without explanation, he doesn't know what happened to the world he left behind. He doesn't know if Yuma and Astral's resolve was empty, or if they'd managed to find a way to save everyone - but even though nothing's changed... Ryouga just can't find it in himself to betray Yuma again for a second time.

"Yuma...?" Eventually, Ryouga speaks up. His heart is hammering in his chest, and he feels sick. "I... I need to talk to you for a moment. About something important."

@highfivethesky ( starter! )

[jewishcissiekj]

WHY DID THEY SEND STICKERS OF TWO RABBIS KISSING (looking extremely edited) IN THE CLASS GROUPCHAT WITH THE TEACHERS SEND HELP

[persephoneflouwers]

-

[bunnihearted]

🧸🧃⛈️

[chiropterx]

"Cute-Bat! Ohhh Cute-Bat!" Joker called out, carrying a basket of bananas under her arm. "There you are! Hello sweetheart, looking as cuddly as ever!" Using the same cooing voice as before she puts out the bananas. "Now see, everyone is riding Auntie J's back! That's unfair, right? I mean look at how nice I am! Could you help out Auntie J, Cute-Bat? Go cause some havoc for me! That way I can work in peace." "There's more bananas in it for you if you doooo~"

There she was, the nice lady! Auntie J coos up at him with sweet words and even sweeter treats, carrying a basket of bananas in her arms. Man-Bat doesn't waste any time, fluttering down to the ground before hopping over to the clown expectantly, pointed ears pricked all the while as she says how nice she is, that she just needs some help to work in peace because everybody is being so mean to her. Of course she was nice. Nobody had offered to give Man-Bat bananas before, least of all a great big basket of them! The chiropteran is half-listening, even nodding in agreement as his eyes remain fixated on the colourful fruits but then Auntie J puts them out, each one scooped up by a brutal thumbclaw before disappearing down his gullet. Even more bananas? Just for helping Auntie J out? Man-Bat's jaws smack and chomp, tongue licking his lips clean before he chirrups in agreement, taking wing to the skies and heading straight to the city center where plenty of people are still active and awake. Auntie J needed help, and Man-Bat was going to do what she asked. She had bananas and plenty more where those came from!

[blueeandyellowmakesgreen]

OH GOD NEW DM NOTIFS... ok i can do this gkgldfewkeoprwe;daks,dlsad,cslc kmsv csdfvkmcdsf vdc,vjmndsvdfjkgvnfdmb, vdsm

[crossbackpoke-check]

"This extra space next to me belongs to you. I know where I end now. I won't get lost." -- shoot me (metaphorically) and leave me for dead (metaphorically) why won't you. To make this about Dylan and maybe it's about Connor, maybe it's about Brinksy, maybe it's about any journeyman in the NHL. My brain screamed Chris Driedger and his memorable (to me) Players' Tribune article:

And how can you mention Dylan and Zach (Za-ach, the way Dylan says it) without me having a breakdown about them? You simply can't. And for the younger dudes, maybe it's a little Bords/Briss, not yet steady in The Show, a little bit of distance, a summer that tries to erase and make up all the memories they've made separately... and then a blurry insta story in Vegas. Just like old times but somewhere else. Maybe it's not the same bed, maybe it's not the same set of forks, but maybe it's the principle of the thing.

Anyway, goodbye. Sorry for this, your tag walls make me break out in imagined scenarios.

Much love. xxx

please never be sorry for sending me messages <3 i love reading them i love getting them i think they’re beautiful and i love them i’m!!!!! [🥹💕🦋🫧✨💘😭 <- the best approximation of what my heart is doing]

ok NOW i am taking this step by step because every narrative here kicked me straight in the knees (metaphorically) i am w e e p i n g (literally): i knew tangentially about chris driedger going to seattle but i had never read his players’ tribune love letter to seattle & all i can say is oh. oh. and with the part about trains delayed but still being right on time—

sometimes a dream is a truth your heart knows long before you do. the space that the city and the team made for him (“you’d be the only guy on the team”)🗣️🗣️🗣️ !!! but the way that chris talks about needing to put in the work & leo not letting him quit,,, that’s chris filling up the teakettle with twice as much water, crowding one side of the bed (falling asleep against a bus window dreaming), becoming unburdened by the idea of not being their guy, not having the fallback being their draft pick to content and settle himself with. that’s chris betting on a future. that’s the train coming down the tracks, right on time.

(i am feeling unhinged about it)

SECOND. i know i was the one that said zach and dylan to start so technically i brought this on myself but also i have been ktfo by the mere mention of the way that dylan says zach’s name different from everyone else, stealing an extra breath, stealing as much time as he can get with him, which reminded me of a poem i just read:

The Need Is So Great, Jim Moore

^^^dylan still in love with zach even as he’s leaving, can feel himself losing him, and taking every sliver of the love in his smile that he can get. even if he knows zach doesn’t still feel the same way he’s drawing out the long goodbye & saying i love you in a thousand ways without ever saying it out loud (“i have been asking for a time but in ways that have no words” because he doesn’t want to ask too much, to ask for love) in the hope that zach will say it back OKAY I’M LEAVING i can’t do this

that was a lie because THREE. “maybe it’s the principle of the thing” please insert the most ungodly screech how could you just (lovingly) come in straight with the steel chair and bean me upside the head with that l i n e i think this story has the potential for such tragedy in it but also the most tender domestic longing because bords & briss have known each other for a long time (i think) and guys do sometimes lose themselves when they first get to the nhl.

it’s a big scene, you’re with big name guys, you’re finally doing the thing you always dreamed about, you’re no longer necessarily the best because everyone’s the best, you’re not sure how you fit in, you can get lost in the glitz and the glamor of it but you can also literally get lost in it, the slog of the season and getting caught up and down between teams and leagues and endless airports and buses and travel and ice rinks, losing your phone (accidental) and having new people hound you for quotes and fame and connection so you lose your phone (on purpose) and i think where i’m trying to go is: this could play out as the tragedy of borde going to the california coastline and briss shipping off to the vegas strip and both of them getting a little lost.

maybe there’s someone else, maybe i am steadfastly not thinking about “a summer that tries to erase and make up all the memories they've made separately” as either a summer of them pretending things are ok after a year of barely speaking and now being completely different people they never were before OR a summer of them trying to pretend like they can forget about each other because maybe they didn’t think their relationship was the same thing, is all, when they were or weren’t together. maybe it’s nobody’s fault but for the fact that they were scared and tired and lonely trying to make it in the big times and didn’t know how to show it. and then borde shows up with takeout and plastic forks in vegas and it’s december and nothing like winter in ann arbor and still they fill up all the empty spaces in each other with the things they didn’t know they’d miss until they were gone and this is the real thing, not whatever they were trying too hard to be, to recreate their own nostalgia for the love in their memories. it’s the principle of the thing, is all, to always be true to the love they have right now & not what they think it should be.

sorry that i wrote you kind of an essay of an answer but i had so so so many thoughts because your ask was so lovely so thank you for sending it to me (you are always welcome to!! i love your imagined scenarios!!! cannot even explain how much!!!) & thank you for taking the time to read my walls of tags :))) <3

[gas-stxtion]

Closed starter for @modestmuses 

Jack doesn’t know how much time has passed since Spencer came and grabbed him at the gas station. It feels like it’s been hours, but for all he knows it could’ve been just thirty or so minutes.

What he does know, however, is that this is probably the closest to being in hell that he’s ever been. Which, considering the life he’s lived for the past few months, is a bit of an achievement.

He’s more than a little delirious from the sheer amount of blood he’s lost, and he knows if help of some kind doesn’t arrive soon, he’s as good as dead. Spencer’s already more than overpowered him, and he knows he has very little chance of making it out alive.

That doesn’t mean he’s making it easy for Spencer, though.

“Still don’t believe I’m here to kill you, Jack?” Spencer says, planting his boot on Jack’s chest and digging in his heel, just to fuck with his likely bruised and fractured ribs some more. His tone is calm and casual, as though he’s just discussing the weather, but Jack knows him well enough to tell that he’s pissed.

Jack can barely speak between his wheezing cries of pain, but he’s determined to reply. If he’s going to die here, he isn’t going to give Spencer the fucking satisfaction.

“N-No,” he chokes out. “You’re too much of--” Spencer snarls and puts more of his weight on Jack’s chest, and Jack can feel something crack, but he barely manages to finish his sentence anyway “--a fucking bitch.”

Spencer stares at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable, then abruptly he lifts his foot from Jack’s chest. Jack barely has a moment to suck in a breath before it’s quickly knocked out of him once more when Spencer aims a sharp kick to his side, knocking him closer to the gaping hole in the ground Spencer had forced him to dig. For a long moment, he simply lay there on his side, struggling to breathe and focus.

His mouth tastes like copper, and he tries not to think too hard about that.

Spencer is saying something, a vicious growl in his voice like an angry dog’s, but Jack hardly registers the words as his exhausted, aching eyes fall on something lying near the hole.

The shovel. The fucking shovel. Spencer had been taunting him with it all fucking night, just barely missing him each time he swung it his way.

“Stay still, Jack,” he’d said. “I wanna see how close I can get.”

If he can just get his hands on the shovel, he might have a fighting chance.

With what little strength and adrenaline he has left, Jack starts to drag himself over to the shovel. It hurts like hell, and he’s sure that he has more than a few new broken bones to add to his collection, but he has to try. He expects Spencer to stop him, but it doesn’t happen.

Instead, he vaguely registers the sound of a gun cocking. The haze that is Jack’s mind right now clears long enough to hear Spencer ask incredulously, “Who the fuck are you?”

Jack doesn’t look up to see who Spencer might be talking to, his hands shaking as he finally grabs the handle of the shovel.

Fucking finally.

[lilly-white]

The organisational tools I need as a self-employed author: > Personal planner > Professional planner > Excel sheet tracking all pro ventures with columns for: - If it’s a writing or admin week - A column for each small business I’m working with, which includes what’s been done so far > My pro discord where I include all links & summaries of what the people I work with need & what’s been posted so far > Labels in my pro email account so I can neatly organised people per company & project I’m involved in

The organisational tools used by the supposed “sPeciAL PRoJeCt ManAgErs” in this Company:

[rosicheeks]

Rosie darling just a reminder that you are a gorgeous goddess and my favorite ❤️😍🥰😘😁

🥺❤️

[stuntgirlbf]

i think robert francis “bobby” kennedy and laura palmer are good names for stuffed animals

[randomnameless]

I don't even consider Byleth a self insert

Good for you anon!

I think it all depends on what we understand as "self-insert".

Someone I can customize like in the Sims series? Nope. A mere player UI? Nope.

A bunch of pixels who is supposed to be able to represent my will and my choices, like the choose your adventure RPG books? Nope.

To me, a self-insert is a character who is supposed to be a player UI, but also able to impact the story through their choices (the player's choices) and, ultimately, a "character" you can customize to your will and by customize I don't only mean picking their eye colour, but picking their net/web of relationships or who is going to be the most important character to them.

Take ToX2's Ludger.

He is a mute (in the first PT) protagonist, there is a mechanic where the player has to pick one choice or another, and it can drastically alter the story (and the ending you get, true ending, normal ending and bad ending).

However, no matter how hard you try to support the cast, Ludger's most important persons and most important relationships will always be, even if the player does whatever he can, Elle, a random (well) child and Julius, his brother.

The player cannot "insert" in Ludger to make Ludger their avatar and able to marry/romance/befriend/care more about X than his brother and Elle.

TS's Serenor? His (the player's) choices dictate the story... until they don't, actually, only for the final map.

But no matter what, Serenor's fiancée (and only/true love?) will always be Frederica even if I deploy Milo on each map, and Roland will always be his BFF even if I always have him protect Lionel.

Granted, Billy apparently always cares for Worst Mom and Jerry... But Billy can side without blinking with Flamey's gang, who wants and technically got rid of both. Who are Billy's bestest friends and love interest? You decide.

The player gets to decide what is Billy's web of relationships with the other characters and can sever the existing ones to replace them with something else. The player gets to decide what is Billy's character, rather, Billy starts as a blank canvas with a red dot, and the player can erase that red dot to paint whatever they want on that canvas.

That's not a "character" to me, but a "self-insert".

[theghostofwilburtheworm]

aaagh calls with people i dont know too well make me so anxious