#But it's still a sore spot

[sweetdreamspootypie]

*scream*

(ventpost)

"you know you're getting a bit old for meeting people if you want kids"

WHO'S FAULT IS THAT?!

Who chose to raise us in the middle of the the fucking woods?!

Who actively deliberately isolated us from our ethnic community because you were embarrassed by how we were failures and your internalized self racism makes you think all brown men as skeevy and you specifically wanted to keep us away from them and put effort into achieving that and cutting us off from all community connection?

Who let me switch to correspondence school and study alone at home because I said I was bored, instead of giving a single solitary fuck about me and noticing I was obviously depressed?

Who raised us abstinence only to the point that any mixing with the 'opposite' sex was unacceptable?

Who actively shut down any attempt I made to develop or act on hobbies or personal interests, because the only think I should be doing is studying?

Do you think that somehow the negative effects of keeping kids at home only allowed to do schoolwork and chores and unable to drive unable to leave the house unable to get a job unable to engage in hobbies unable to engage in community unable to leave the house... somehow the negative effects only apply if you're deliberately doing it for patriarchal cult reasons?

Bitch managed to raise us fully traditional entirely by accident

With a good dash of learned helplessness with constant messaging that were incapable of managing to do anything or survive by ourselves

I've only been out the house for 3 years! And 2 of that was the last year of the degree and the first year of the job being a new grad Covid nurse in peak Covid!

I've only been able to breathe for one year!

I've had one year of freedom and I've been using it to learn how to be human for the first time!

And you've spent that year telling me to break up with everyone I happen to meet!

Don't fucking tell me I'm too old now

You were supposed to help me!

You knew I wanted kids! Why didn't you help me earlier!

You did everything you could to keep me isolated because you were projecting your own trust issues onto me and never stopped to think what effect that might have when you're raising someone!

Why does generational trauma have to be so mundane

[sysig]

“It could be that the loss of her children drove the Queen deeper into her darker desires...but, I don’t believe she was fighting against them that hard before that particular tragedy. No monster does.” (Patreon)

Bonus:

Hmm, wonder what he could cover those holes with :3c

[nenoname]

still love how the book starts out with stan beating up the statue and taking ford's discarded one dollar bills and then ends with stan completely destroying bill and ripping up money just to spite him

[shiraishi--kanade]

I have Words to Say about disabled characters in Proseka but I'm especially kind of... Eeh about Saki, because of how perfect she is.

I've talked about this before but Saki is just not allowed, by the narrative, to be flawed. We have some very, very brief moments of anger or lashing out from her (NSNF, Doll Festival in particular), but aside from that Saki is just... So cliché and surface-level regarding her disability. That especially reflects in how the writers handled her relationship with Leo/need.

Yes, she is not angry at her friends for, let's call it what it was, abandoning her (besides Ichika). She is not upset with them or feels betrayed by them. She just forgives them for doing that because she's a good friend and that kind of person, to not dwell on the past and just look forward. She's only really upset at her illness, rate, and herself.

Do you know how shitty of a story that is to sell to disabled people? Oh look, this character suffered a lot and then their friends just stopped visiting them at some point! But no big deal though, they're all good! She doesn't hold a grudge against them so it's actually totally understandable and fine and you should look up to that attitude.

Sure, Saki isn't upset with Honami and Shiho. My point is that she fucking should be. I know their reasons and I don't care about them; what they did is shitty and I hate how the story just moved on from that and we never confront that again and probably won't. Why the hell not? It would make for an interesting conflict and story. It would make Saki an absolutely stunning character, and reflect many of our struggles with loving and caring for people that don't understand us and don't stand with us. Why do we have a story we do now, where Shiho and Honami's fuck up only bothers them but not the person they hurt?

Oh wait, I know the answer: because god forbid disabled characters be anything than inspiration porn.

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

if 9&10 were "dont wander off", and 11&12 were "the doctor lies", 13s rule #1 is "dont question me"

"have we not had a good time together" shes pointing yaz to the rule that yaz very well knows is there: we can travel if you dont ask me any difficult questions. yaz knows this is the rule - "because you ask too many questions", "this team structure isnt flat" - but she also was the one to invite the doctor into her home so im pretty sure she also knows shes not gonna kicked out that easily. she has some leeway. which she has been using between revolution and flux, which is why the doctor reminds her of the rules

i dont think she'd kick her out though. she wouldnt. i think it's just that the more you break the rule, the more unpleasant she becomes to be around, and eventually youre gonna walk out on your own. she doesnt want you to, she'd rather you stay and dont ask questions. but if youre gonna try to ask questions anyway, i think thats whats gonna happen

and yaz must think so too. because she does back off. because she doesnt want that to happen either. and it does anyway

[zer0point5ive]

post saw 2004 bathroom trap situationship

[adyophene]

It's been over a week, but I should finally be able to get back into drawing daily! I burnt the tips of my right hand a few days ago in a moment of toast oven drama, but the blisters are almost gone and it no longer hurts to hold a stylus!

[thesmpisonfire]

Forever: You betraying us caused all of us to loose Richarlyson. You lost him, I lost him, Tazer and Craft lost him, even Felps lost him.

Cellbit: Don't talk about him.

[hood-ex]

wait idk anything about the tevis’— why would tommy tevis call dick his son? would you be willing to give a quick rundown

After Dick failed to get himself incarcerated, he became an enforcer for a mob boss named Tommy Tevis. Tommy took Dick in and made him part of his family. Tommy considered him an honorary son and thought very highly of him.

Nightwing (Vol. 2) #107

He even told Dick that everything he had (his home, his reputation, his family, etc.) was Dick's as well. Lynette, Tommy's wife, told Dick that Tommy would let Dick do anything. The whole family loved Dick, including Tommy's 15 year old daughter, Sophia. Sophia actually had a crush on Dick, but Dick acted like an older brother to her, helping her with her homework and such.

While Dick was away from the family for a few days, the cops busted into the Tevis's home. Lynette got killed in the gunfire, Tommy got taken to jail, and Sophia got taken in by the state.

Dick, while mentoring Rose, broke Sophia out of the state home. He got Sophia to help him with the mob. Then, when Chemo fell on Bludhaven, Dick saved Sophia and left her with Amy. When they reunited at the hospital, Dick asked Sophia to leave the mob behind and join a boarding school.

So, yeah, that's Dick's relationship with the Tevis family.

[gavin-reed-is-gay]

Me trying not to ask every artist who draws Gavin/Nines if they also ship reed900

[that-one-poison-trainer]

4 and 5, stupidest injuries you've ever gotten and given

stupidest injury I've ever gotten? Probably when I chipped my baby teeth on an Oreo? Does that count

As for the stupidest injury I've ever given that has to go to me accidentally giving @lostlornghost minor bran damage back when I was a medium because how the fuck was I supposed to know that would happen?!

[beevean]

This scene was supremely uncomfortable to write.

~

A certain vampire hunter named Belmont had stepped foot into Wallachia. Hector had never heard of such a clan, but Lord Dracula hissed the name with hefty wariness, and every creature in the room knew that he was no trifling meat to mince: this Belmont could be a genuine danger to the castle. Isaac had noticed him, apparently, and eagerly reported the news to their Lord like a dog bringing a stick and expecting a treat in return.

In that moment, Hector knew. He had to prove himself.

It was not hard for him to enter back in Lord Dracula’s good graces. A few apologies that meant nothing, a couple of languid smiles that cracked his lips, and it was as if their last “conversation” had never happened. He kept his promise. Hector had always been special to his Lord, after all.

As his chewed, dried out remains laid there, cast away as he had fulfilled his purpose, the one thing that pushed him on his feet and dragged him through the vast hallways was the mirage of the forest stretched for miles.

He wanted to die so much.

No. One step further. He had to live for a little longer. Death would not take his soul so long as Lord Dracula held his leash; Hector would not allow it. After he had broken his leash, anything could happen to him. He would die soon, that much was certain; at his Lord’s hands, under the jaws of his loyal hound, or because eventually his body would give up on him. But as long as his grave could be a shallow hole in the forest, far from the enormous castle that used to be his home, he could take another step.

(I’m yours, he had sworn. He did not feel guilty for lying to his Lord, for leaving the kiss of Judah on his blood-caked hand. I can handle the Belmont myself, he had promised. He did not feel guilty for going behind Isaac’s back and taking away the one chance for him to prove himself. He was the lowest kind of sinner: it was what he was born for. He, too, could devour them to the bone. They would both be proud of him.)

« Don’t you look at me like that, » seethed Isaac. Hector started: when did he get back to his room? He didn’t notice himself applying healing oil on his neck. « I asked you a question. »

Hector wasn’t even looking at him, really. He just happened to be in the way of his gaze.

« I wasn’t listening, » he mumbled, hoping that Isaac would leave him alone and knowing he wouldn’t. And right as expected, everything fell into place: Isaac’s cutting glare, the tensing of his shoulders, the smell of a storm approaching. Hector had played the script one too many times.

« Of course you weren’t. Why would you? »

« Don’t start, Isaac. »

« Or what? Are you going to cry to Lord Dracula that I upset you? »

« I’m not being the child here. »

« Excuse me? » Isaac bristled. « Who gave you the right to speak to me this way? »

« According to your logic, Lord Dracula. »

At that, Isaac lunged at him; Hector flinched, body ready to receive a slap, but when he opened his eyes, he saw that Isaac had stopped in an awkward position, with his arm half-raised and teeth bared in a snarl.

Hector was less than grateful for Lord Dracula’s distant protection on his body. He wanted that slap, now. Not to make Isaac happy in his misery, but because it would break one of the many walls between them.

The man’s attention was caught by the fresh bites on Hector’s throat; he had a knack for spotting them, unless Hector buttoned his collar so tight that it clasped on his neck. Now, slick with ointment, they were in full display, the ghost of Lord Dracula hovering between the two of them.

Perhaps, the more he bit them, the more part of himself he infused in their bloodstream. Perhaps that was the reason Isaac passed a thumb on Hector’s scars, with an ugly mixture of scorn and fascination.

(What did that make of Hector?)

« I’m surprised you haven’t dropped dead yet, with how often our Lord feeds from you, » Isaac commented with the impression of aloofness.

« Why do you care? » One last chance.

« What does your blood have that mine doesn’t? »

Hector pursed his lips.

Interpreting his silence the Lord knew how, Isaac replied to it by jamming a long nail in a particularly sore bruise; Hector hissed, and his hand slapped Isaac’s away before he could think of doing so.

And the fuse went off.

« Stop looking at me like that! » Isaac’s face went as red as his hair. « Like I’m not worth a damn! Just because you’re the Lord’s favorite it doesn’t make me inferior to you! »

Hector had planned to leave quietly, without rousing suspicion. He was ready to leave Isaac behind without thinking twice about what he had planned to do; he couldn’t delve too deeply into the consequences. He could still walk past Isaac and ignore him, slam the door shut, leave him out.

The words rose from his throat before he could recognize them for what they were.

« Then perhaps you should do more to be worth something. »

« What…? »

« What are you doing, Isaac? Slacking behind and stubbornly beating your head over the wall instead of listening to me. Crying that Lord Dracula won’t praise you and taking it out on me. Pushing me aside except when you need a warm body. Why should I feel sorry for you, when you treat me like dirt under your heel? »

Hector’s own voice sounded distorted to his own ears, jagged and unpleasant. As unpleasant was the visceral pleasure that seized him at vomiting the thoughts he had buried deep for far too long, at the sight of Isaac’s eyes growing wide and him stepping backwards, away from him.

He should apologize. He would never apologize. Isaac deserved to hear that.

But his surprise lasted for far too little, and he counterattacked:

« You… You would be food for the zombies were it not for me! You threw me away the moment I was no longer useful to you! The only reason Lord Dracula is even sparing a glance towards you is because I felt sorry for you first! I was ecstatic when you came here to study the dark arts with me, I thought you’d be… » A crack where weakness should have been. « How could have I imagined that you would have ruined everything? You are standing on my shoulders and basking in all the glory, and have the gall to pity me! That’s all you care for, selfish bastard! »

Oh, if Isaac thought Hector would fold like he would have in the past, he had no idea of how utterly sick of it all he was.

« I don’t want the glory! I don’t want any of this! » How could ever be happy to be a toy, to be coated in his Lord’s sick touch and sicker lies and expected to be grateful for it?

« Our Lord adores you more than anyone here, more than His own son. What more could you possibly want? What else does the universe owe Saint Hector, for him to finally be happy? »

Why couldn’t he have asked sincerely? Why couldn’t Hector trust whom he thought was his closest companion? He did want, and he wanted too much for him to burden alone: he wanted more of that sorry excuse of an existence, he wanted to cleanse himself, he wanted to live, he wanted out!

He wanted a friend.

« I’m tired, Isaac, and you never noticed, because all you can think about is Lord Dracula. » He would not wipe any tear. Not in front of that man who would devour him at the first sign of fragility. « If I spoke, would you listen to me? Have I ever mattered to you? »

« What you want doesn’t matter. You don’t matter more than Lord Dracula. Don’t you even insinuate that. »

The lack of an answer burdened in Hector’s chest. He wished he could be furious at it.

« I would never. Your world begins and ends with Lord Dracula. »

« And that is how it should be! For being Lord Dracula’s favorite General, you are obnoxiously dense! » Isaac spread his arms like a proselyte. « We were born and made to be His tools to wield. I am honored to be used by Him! I do not need a reward, unlike you: it’s about loyalty! It is the bare minimum of gratitude I can show towards the only person who has ever cared about me. »

Hector took the jab in silence. He would not try to defend himself.

« Do you think he does? »

Isaac stammered. « More than you! »

Is that so.

« You are the worst kind of liar and hypocrite. » Hector dug his nails into his palms, and willed his arms to stop shaking, even though he wanted to hit Isaac so hard. « You say that you’re loyal, but are you really? Because if you were, you’d stop crying and accept how things are! You would accept that Lord Dracula doesn’t give a shit about you! »

« Shut your mouth! How dare you speak in contempt of our Lord?! »

« I don’t care! I am talking about you! » Hector yelled with more force than intended. « If you were a weapon like you claim, you would not be here with tears in your eyes because I’m trying to make you reason. Why do you refuse to see reality? »

« Oh, do you now? Are you speakings from the heavens now? » In the light of the candle, Isaac’s tired eyes flashed a sickly yellow; with his gritted teeth and bulging veins in his neck, he looked less and less human the more he spoke, unrecognizable.

« You make me puke, Hector. Look at you, with that disgusting veneer of superiority, even placing yourself above Lord Dracula… You dare talking about reality? Well, the reality is that you are nothing more than a selfish little boy with an inflated ego, spitting in the plate he’s been eating, expecting to be worshipped because you gift us with the air you breathe on us. » He jabbed a finger on his chest as if to bore it: his hand, too, was trembling. « Never forget that when we met, you wouldn’t even talk, you were that afraid of me. You are here, looking down on me like I am your damn scullery boy, because Lord Dracula tasked me with making something worthwhile out of you. And right now, I am so close to breaking your nose to teach you the lesson you deserve, and then we’ll see how perfect you are. »

Hector let Isaac talk without interrupting.

He should have been offended, he knew it. He should have sworn that he never thought Isaac was inferior to him, he did it all by himself. Somehow, Isaac’s words reached him like a vision through a foggy glass: he had a vague inkling of what they could be, but they didn’t leave an impact.

He, on the other hand, yearned to leave an impact, for once.

« But you won’t do it. Because you are terrified of Lord Dracula not loving you. »

Why wasn’t he furious? He wished he could shout like Isaac, have his heart hammering in his chest, be completely engulfed by rage like flames devour a house. The man in front of him no longer stirred his heart.

What grew louder inside him, instead, were the echoes of his demon friends, always within him as they had never abandoned him – no, he had allowed himself to become them, and just like back then, just like when his mother dared to hurt him… Isaac deserved a lesson.

« I used to be afraid of the world around me, yes. But you are, right now. You are so, so scared of ending up alone and unwanted that you do everything in your power to make sure no one wants you and loves you first! You will drag everyone down in your misery, because it’s easier than clawing your way out! Forget about me – why do you think Lord Dracula would ever love a thing like you? »

And Hector kept talking, and talking, his words a river in flood; he couldn’t stop, he wouldn’t stop, his voice spilled out of him like it was edging at the rim and it couldn’t wait to get out:

« You are a doll to Lord Dracula. You’re a cute toy to play with before putting it on its shelf, once he gets bored of you. You will never be anything more than a thing! And it’s all because of you. You chose to be a thing to be used and thrown away, because, because… because you truly believe you don’t deserve better, I suppose, and when I tried to convince you that it was not the case, you rejected me, because it scared you. You broke yourself into pieces for him, and it was for nothing, and now you’re angry, and you don’t want to admit it, so you thought you could break me with you. »

Isaac recoiled at every word like they were physical blows, and the more he acted like that, the more Hector felt the desire to twist the knife even further, because Isaac only roused desire in him when his eyes shone with bitter tears: he looked like the human he refused to be.

« You are nothing more than a pathetic, miserable thing, and you could have been so much more! I had always admired your passion, your wit, your knowledge! I thought myself so lucky to call you my friend! But there’s none of that in you anymore. You call yourself a weapon, but no, you’re a puppet. Who loves a puppet? Lord Dracula doesn’t need it. I don’t need it. »

And who cared if Hector no longer believed in that axiom, that the both of them had to earn their Lord’s love somehow? Hector had grown past that, but Isaac didn’t, still a child clinging onto the breeches of his father, and Hector felt vile and so satiated in plunging his fangs in Isaac’s heart to tear it to pieces, he would see how it felt, to be weak and powerless and despised! If he wanted to experience Lord Dracula’s love, then by all means, Hector would be all too happy to oblige!

« S-shut up… »

« Don’t you believe me? Why do you think that Lord Dracula refuses to give you all the love that you crave, but he’s forcing it on me? Whose fault is that, Isaac? What did I do, other than exist? »

« Exactly that, » Isaac snarled, and the sobs did not soften the spikes in his words. « Do me a favor, and go die in the next mission. Filth like you should have never been born in the first place! »

The air froze.

No one spoke. Isaac was panting, but Hector could not understand what he was thinking, he could not recognize his face. His head hurt as if Isaac struck a blow and his vision wobbled. It was not a moment too soon that Isaac spun on his heels and fled, and Hector let that stranger march out of his room.

The same mouth he had used to rip Isaac to shreds was covered in ashes. With numb fingers, he touched Lord Dracula’s marks on his throat, where he had ruined him. He decided it was time to go to bed. No map could have taken his mind off the flames dancing behind his eyes.

That night, Isaac left Hector alone, as he wanted.

He tossed and turned around in a freezing bed until the crows cawed and all of his focus had to go on the most important mission of his life.

There was no turning back.

[pretentiouswreckingball]

……sometimes I do resent the fact that i never got the chance to have a teenage romance :/

[averlym]

May I please request some soft parrlyn please

morning vs night gfs

[jichanxo]

sunday six 👌

tags! @four-white-trees @passthroughtime @phantasy14 @overdevelopedglasses @skysquid22

despite my complaining about senseific, i did actually end up writing something this week! thank god! (i still need more notes on the dance club to be able to write more, but i at least had enough to write this much...) anyway um. lj school stories spoilers (below and in tags), but i'm not sure anybody really minds lol

Watching them all working hard and having fun as they danced, smiling like this, it was hard to believe that someone had asked The Professor to harm another student in the competition, Norizuki, an ex-idol and Nishizono’s rival in love.

His eyes went to Nishizono again, her footwork confident, and her smile – as far as he could tell – genuine. Amasawa had claimed the request had been made under her account, DancingBunny, and Itokura had pessimistically claimed that he should beware the students who seemed the most well put together, but he just couldn’t see it. She was serious about winning and about her crush, sure, but she also seemed to embody the club's motto the most: have fun like nobody’s watching. And she was, wasn’t she? Just having fun? Would someone like that really make such a serious threat against her competition?

Yagami didn’t want to doubt his judgement (not again, and under far less dire circumstances than before), but Amasawa’s discovery and Itokura’s warning remained in his head nonetheless. That discovery was immovable, and though biased, Itokura was right to question the surface level presentation of their suspect. Was there any way that these facts could coexist alongside Nishizono’s innocence? And if so, who instead should he direct his suspicion towards?

[helen-high-water]

Steven shattering jasper is actually such a fun writing decision.

Because like, here's Steven,the perfect human gem hybrid who can do no wrong,the kind hero of the Galaxy that changed thing for the better, the sweet boy who loves his family very much.

But then you have the argument he has with Greg, the thing with Connie , ignoring the gems and what happened with the cactus that he grew, trying to shatter White, and actually shattering jasper, pretty much the second biggest sin in gem society (or the first, depends on where most gems fall on whether forced fusion is shitty or not that's unrelated though).

Where does it leave you when this person who you love , who you thought was the epitome of compassion, lashes out and hurts someone (or possibly you)?

Steven shattering jasper isn't meant to be a one to one mirror to the reality of someone who struggles with mental illness obviously (the whole series does this thing where it elevates the stakes because when you're dealing with an alien species of immortal light beings it's kind of difficult to make things stick).

But the gems reaction to it (horror,then worry ,then understanding,then help) is such a good choice too, because someone struggling with mental illness, especially what Steven was going through (thinking himself to be an actual irredeemable monster) doesn't really need to be told that what they did was bad, they're quite aware, it's literally haunting Steven to the point of dissociation,what they'd need is a proper support network to deal with Thier problems,or learn to live with them.