#I have no idea what's going on with the style here🤷‍♂️

[guestiguess]

Merchiss

Shark

[jackoquako]

Burning from the Inside

Yan! Batfamily x neglected! male! meta! Reader

Chapter one: Enter the Manor

I do look through the interactions with my fic and block profiles that only use she/her or say “cis girl”.

Summary: The first few months of living in the manor and your impressions of the inhabitants. Word Count: 2805 Reading Time: 11:14 (mins:secs) Notes: Uh yeah this was meant to be maybe like 1000 words max. Oopsies 😬. I thought I’d do an honorable mention of @sitepathos and their series Gold to Mold bc while the influence may not be obvious, that story was one of my main influences to finally write the story in my head. Also any OOC behavior can be chalked up to the characters being emotionally inept (Bruce), not fully capable of raising a child that’s not Robin (Bruce again), or deal with their own emotional baggage of not being Robin anymore (dick). Also it’s important to note that I do look through the interactions with my fic and block profiles that only use she/her or say “cis girl”. The idea of being used as a tool for someone else’s gratification makes me uncomfortable and this is my blog, I do what I want. No current release date for the second chapter, it’ll get done when it gets done I guess.. 🤷‍♂️😓 Warnings: written in first person, talks of a young child (11) dealing with depression but the word isn’t used. Aggressive behavior from an adult to a child, and neglect from a parental figure.

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Prologue | Chapter 1 (you are here) | Next Chapter ->

The first week in the manor was actually rather.. nice. The car Alfred had taken you to the manor in was a shiny black, the interior coated in an oil-like black leather that made noise when you moved on it. There’d been a bag of fast food waiting for you in the back seat of the car when Alfred ushered you in. You’d devoured the meal hastily- not out of any sort of food deprivation or malnutrition, but because it never seemed like you could sate your appetite. No matter what, you were always a little hungry, a little more ravenous than the other boys your age. He’d talked sparingly as he drove, rarely talking his eyes off the road. It seemed like he understood. Unlike the cops and the foster families and the social workers, Alfred didn’t say “I’m sorry” or “that must hurt”. He didn’t really say anything about it at all. 

He’d asked you what your favorite color was, what style of decoration you’d want for your room, if you enjoyed your current clothes and style or if you’d rather have something else, and other similar questions. It was slow going, moving your mouth to form answers. Since the house fire, you’d grown to be unlike your past self, retracting into your shell like a snail, and barely speaking unless absolutely necessary. He didn’t seem to mind silence, though. It made a knot in your shoulders, that you never noticed, come loose.

The ride wasn’t very long, or maybe it was, you didn’t pay much attention to the time. It didn’t feel like a long ride. You’d spent the majority of it resting your head on the car door and staring out the window, watching buildings and trees pass by. The squat, brick buildings of mom-and-pop businesses of the town you’d been moved to gradually gave way to towering skyscrapers and bustling streets, although that eventually fell away to a thinned forest and big houses that stood proud among manicured lawns. The houses faded away too, leaving miles of sprawling woods the only thing to look at. Watching the trees pass by was a rather calming experience, your heartbeat slow and steady in your chest. You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling that ever-present heat under your skin settle, like a cat laying in the sun. It never left, like a permanent fever, but it could calm down, it could go dormant for the moment. 

The car rolled to a stop and you opened your eyes. A mansion stood alone in the middle of the woods, a driveway leading up to it and ending in a roundabout with a fountain in the middle. The front of the house was framed by well-loved hedges and flower beds which bloomed with brilliant white and red flowers. The house- mansion- itself was a deep red brick, the stone worn by weather, and framed by snow-white columns of marble. It was imposing, looming over the surrounding trees. Alfred stepped out of the car and moved around to the side, opening the door for you.

“Master yn, we have arrived.” He said with that same kind, elegant manner he’d greeted you with, back at the social worker’s office. 

As you climbed out of the car, Alfred moved back to the trunk and opened it, grabbing your singular bag of belongings before closing the trunk. He walked to the pristine marble stairs that led up to the tall mahogany  doors, the gravel crunching under his shiny black shoes. You followed loosely behind him, looking around at the outside of the house. The thought hadn’t quite managed to break through the fog that always seemed to cloud your mind nowadays, but it suddenly dawned on you that this isn’t exactly a normal foster family. You hurried to the door when Alfred held it open for you, stopping only for a moment to glance down at the outdoor mat resting outside the door. It was black with a gold logo printed onto it; the logo looked like a highly stylized W with an E beside it. An unsettled feeling rested in your stomach at the sight of it and you couldn’t quite grasp why. 

Entering the mansion, you were struck with the smell of cleaner and, very faintly, cologne. It smelled like an expensive store, the kind of place you and your mom would walk past on the way to your usual shopping area. The entryway had an open doorway that offered a small glimpse into the rest of the manor. A grand staircase ran down the side of the wall, the room entirely lit by a chandelier hanging from the high vaulted ceiling. Alfred moves past you, closing the door behind you both, and talks while gesturing for you to follow him up the grand staircase.

He’d taken you down a long hall that was lined with closed doors, explaining where everything was located whilst walking.

“Now, Master Bruce’s bedroom is.. further down the hall.”

You must’ve given him a curious look as you both arrived at your new room. Alfred opened the door for you, allowing you to enter in front of him.

“He wishes to give you space during this time.”

Your stomach churned at those words. They were perfectly designed, like what a PR team would tell their talent to say after screwing up massively. It left a sour taste in your mouth and you couldn’t quite meet Alfred’s gaze after hearing that. You looked around the room as Alfred set down your bag on the bed. It was much larger than anywhere you’d lived before, considering both foster homes and your real home. 

Despite the size, though, the room was bare of any decoration. A single twin bed laid under the brightness of the single window in the room, only blinds blocking the sunlight. Along the far right wall stood a sturdy wooden dresser and mirror. The walls were a blank white wallpaper and the floor was the same shiny deep-colored wood as the hallway outside. There was no side table for the bed, no carpet despite how cold the floor would definitely get, no posters or paintings, just the bare necessities. It was the picture of utilitarian. Alfred spoke up, clearing his throat as if he was embarrassed.

“Unfortunately, we were unable to source more furniture before your arrival.” He said with the same elegance as everything else he’d said, despite his expression figuratively shouting how upset he was about what he was saying. 

It intrigued you more than it should’ve. You shrugged and went to the window, pulling down one of the blinds to look outside.

“It’s fine.”

It’s not. You didn’t turn to look back at Alfred as you spoke, nor did you look back when you heard his fancy dress shoes shuffle against the floor. You heard the door creak.

“I’ll let you settle in, sir.”

You heard the door shut behind Alfred as he left. The minute you were alone, you fell back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

The first few weeks had been rather boring, admittedly. You’d often stay in your room for days at a time, only wandering out to explore the house when you got bored of staring at the ceiling. You’d stroll up and down the halls, discovering the library, the private study that Bruce Wayne used, the various staff quarters, and more guest bedrooms than you thought was possible. None of it really excited you, though. A numbness had invaded your mind and made you into a living ghost, something human in name only. You no longer looked in mirrors and spoke very little, if at all. Not like there were very many people to talk to.

Bruce Wayne was as elusive as rain in the desert. He flitted about the manor, only ever coming home very late at night and leaving in the morning. You didn’t really want to know what he was doing so late in the evening, but you figured you’d find out about it someday. Secrets between you and your mom didn’t last very long, so most family secrets should be the same. 

The very few times you interacted with Bruce Wayne, he seemed distracted or discomforted by your presence, like he was seeing your mother, not you. If you happened to be in the kitchen when he came in, he’d stare at you for a long moment before attempting some sort of small talk. When you didn’t respond, he’d just leave. After the first three days, he avoided you completely. Maybe it was because you were both orphans or maybe there was just something unsettling about you, but Bruce Wayne didn’t want you in his house. Maybe he saw the same in-humanness that the foster families saw. Whatever was wrong with you was palpable, apparently.

Bruce Wayne wasn’t the only person in the manor who avoided you. 

Richard Grayson was, according to google, an orphan Bruce Wayne took in. Grayson didn’t care for your presence either. He was eighteen and seemed to be genuinely disgusted by you. Maybe he saw something too. Or maybe he was just a dick. The first incident with Grayson happened not too long after you moved in. You’d been wandering towards the direction of the kitchen when the front door burst open. He’d stood in the doorway, framed by the light around him, like an action figure in a commercial, all stoic and proud. You stopped to look at him and he looked back, like two animals spooked by the other’s existence. He’d scowled and glared down at you, crossing his arms as he approached. The rude dick left the door open behind him. 

“What are you, another one of Bruce’s new bratty orphans?” His words dripped with anger and annoyance, like you were ruining something just by the virtue of being here. He scoffed before you could even respond and stomped off. 

Luckily for you, though, Grayson didn’t live in the manor. He had his own apartment he’d disappear to for weeks. It was bliss, not having him around constantly. Living with Bruce Wayne already had your blood pressure high and your fuse short, but having someone as outright about their dislike of you- over something that you didn’t even understand- that made your blood boil. You had to physically stop yourself from launching yourself at Grayson every time he looked at you like you were a cockroach. 

But there were redeeming inhabitants in the manor. One of which was Alfred. He never forced you to talk if you didn’t feel like it, which you often didn’t. When you crawled out of your room for food once a day, he’d prepare a meal for you whilst telling you a story. You enjoyed his stories; the stories reminded you of your mother.

“Once, when I was in the SAS,” He’d begin, chopping vegetables into fine little cubes and tossing them into a pan. He’d grab fresh herbs from somewhere and begin chopping those as well.

“There were two new recruits.” He focused on what he was doing as you rested your head on your palm and stood leaning on the dinner table. “And they thought they were just the sneakiest men in the platoon.”

Once the herbs were diced, he’d add them to the sizzling pan, and stir the concoction. The action sent a flurry of floral scents in the air, filling the kitchen with an inviting aroma. 

Alfred continued whilst stirring the contents of the pan. “So the rest of us had dared them; said ‘if you’re really that good at sneaking around, then sneak up to one of the rabbits on base and put a ribbon on it.’”

“And by god, they did.” Alfred chuckled to himself as he turned off the burner and continued to stir, reaching over to the spice rack and picking out multiple bottles and sprinkling the contents into the pan. “They snuck out of the barracks that night and went out into the woods without any of us knowing.”

He gestured for you to sit at the bar and grabbed a plate from a cabinet, snatching a fork from an adjacent drawer. “By the time we all woke up and began our own duties, there were about twelve rabbits running around the base with little ribbon bow ties tied around their necks!”

Laughing softly to himself, Alfred scooped out the cooked vegetable stir-fry onto the plate and brought it over to you along with the fork. He’d sat with you as you ate, talking about other stories from his time in the SAS and his time working for Martha and Thomas Wayne. His genuine kindness made it almost worth it to be living in the manor.

The other inhabitant who didn't mind you being in the manor- and even seemed to like you being around- was Jason Todd. You’d met him while wandering around the manor like you often did. You’d just found the library for the first time when he popped up out of nowhere, appearing from behind a plush seat like a character from a horror movie. He’d bounded over to you like an excited puppy and began speaking a mile a minute. At first he’d put on this hyper-masculine deep voice that didn’t match his face or his age at all.

“Hey! Who are you?” He’d looked down his nose at you and you quickly realized that he, despite already being the same height as you, had stood on his tiptoes specifically so he could look down his nose at you. 

Fixing him with the same blank stare you’d used on everyone, you answered simply. That numbness you’d grown accustomed to made it hard to put energy into your voice. “(Y/N).”

He blinked once, then twice, and then the facade broke. His voice softened into what you assumed was its normal state and he slowly lowered himself to his usual height. Tilting this way and that, he examined you with an almost-suspicious expression. 

“Oh.” He suddenly light up with recognition. “You must be the other kid B took in. I’m Jason.” He pointed to himself with a prideful smile. “How come I haven’t seen you around?” The question was innocently curious, only prying on accident. 

You stared blankly, no response leaving your lips as you stood still. He tilted his head and frowned, shrugging as he looked away, feigning disinterest.

“Strong and silent type, huh?” He nodded to himself as he said the words, still looking at some random book on the bookshelf. “I can work with that.”

And he did.

Jason’s friendship was unlike your relationship with Alfred. In the fogginess of apathy- depression, you realized- he cut through the clouds like a lighthouse. He’d follow you around when you left your room, finding you every time like he had a compass implanted in his head or something, and it exclusively led to you. You’d be just wandering, sometimes taking paths you already walked before, sometimes carving completely new wear patterns in the carpet, and he’d sidle right up next to you and begin talking.

Just like Alfred, he did the talking for the two of you, but he was different. Jason would pause occasionally after cracking a joke, glancing at you to see if you laughed, smiling if he saw you reacted at all. It was like he understood you in a way Alfred didn’t, like he’d been in your shoes before. Sometimes while walking through the halls of the manor, he’d take your hand and lead you to some unspecified place. Occasionally it was the library, but most of the time it was places you’d never gone before, like the rooftop, the garden, and the theater room. 

Eventually, you learned through his one-sided conversations that Jason was only two years older than you at 13, and that he’d lived in crime alley. You didn’t really know where that was, but it sounded like a rough place to live. After a few months of being Jason’s unofficial sidekick, you began talking again. He never made a big deal out of it, but you could see his eyes light up when he finally got a response, even if they were one-worded at best. He’d cracked the hardened shell of emptiness that formed around your heart. The constant rejection by Wayne and Grayson didn’t help, neither did the gentle approach from Alfred, if you were being honest, but Jason had cracked it. He’d pulled you out of a ship you didn’t know had already sunk. And the first embers of happiness began to spark up again once more, even if it was faint. For the first time in a really long time, you had a friend.

And you had all the time in the world to get to know each other better. 

[ghostlylicious]

the witcher swapped roles au and their personalities are the same as before somewhat . do we like it (apologies that i didn't go through w dandelion's glitter hair 💔)

(press for better quality, and additional contexts/yapping under the cut)

crazy how i tied up jaskier's hair just to also give him bangs that obstruct his view 😭 in all fairness it is a trait he has which is in my hcs for him for this au:

yapping abt witcher!julian:

he still styles his hair to battle and it comes out okay even when he's covered in blood legolas style

he tends to wear knight-like armor-- ones that are very shiny, and sometimes they have purely decorative engravings. that part where geralt bought a new jacket but in this au dandelion bought a new nearly complete armor set that makes you question its practicality with what it looks like

he'd be sooo annoying as an actual hero i'm serious😭😭😭 this book series would NOT be popular ong (but perhaps bard!geralt will save it)

glittery hair after his full mutation was a joke but what if it was real for a second-

yapping about bard!geralt:

okay i'm gonna be honest i did not fucking mean for geralt to look like a red amazon macaw. I JS THOUGHT RED LOOKED GOOD ON HIM ESP W HIS BLACK HAIR then i was like hmm green and blue contrast well w the red and- oh fuck. but it's growing on me tbh.... i can redesign him w black n white but then he and dandelion's color palletes wouldn't contrast well and i'd also have to redesign dandelion's armor and i do NOT like designing/drawing armor😭 but let's see!

he probably said to his stylist "idgaf just make me look good" and the stylist had the same thought process as i did and boom here you go now you're a parrot mf

also yes since he never became a witcher in this au he's got his original hair color- or what i hc his og hair color would be. (i initially tried brown hair but he ended up looking like white jesus 💀💀💀😭😭 it's bc of the beard but i decided then that black hair would js fit his character more

he's actually geralt roger eric du haute-bellegarde

okau dont ask me for more details abt their names and backgrounds bc i have no idea!!!!!! i MIGHT write abt them but... i'm 1 of the laziest fucking artists ever so it's unlikely . also decided to have their scars like that bc of their occupations and the situations they'd get into bc of that

their love interests (which i hate calling them that but in a meta way it's true😭) are switched roles as well: bard!yennefer and sorceress!priscilla . for the child of destiny tho????? 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️ idk . honestly contemplating for ciri to just be ciri that'd be kinda funny

[olderthannetfic]

Seeing people say present tense sucks sure is. Something. When I write present tense because past tense makes my writing feel stilted and boring. Writing clicked for me when I started writing present tense, and wow, I had no idea so many people hated it? Feelsbadman. I know they're not out to get me specifically but jesus dude. Here I am feeling like present tense (third person!) flows way better than past tense, but I appear to be in the minority 🤷‍♂️

--

Just write fic or YA or literary fiction, dude.

This should not be news. Past is the convention for most genre fiction novels in English, and if you've read a lot of them, then you'll have absorbed the style. If you've mostly read the genres/marketing categories that tend to be in present tense, you won't.

Writing is a skill that takes work. You don't just naturally have a particular style. You cultivate it. You've cultivated one. You could cultivate another if you cared to. Or not, if you don't.

I despise present tense, but when I've been reading a lot of fic with its overabundance thereof, it just flows off my pen. When I want to get back in the groove of novel writing, I warm up by reading some novels in the tense and person I'm going to be doing.

Every time this comes up, insecure present tense writers crawl out of the woodwork to cry about it, but they're only a couple steps less ridiculous than people who want second person to be the dominant form of fiction writing.

Either read more or write what you enjoy and don't worry about it.

[randomvarious]

Today's compilation:

The Best of Chess Rock 'n' Roll 1987 R&B / Doo Wop / Rock & Roll / Pop / Rockabilly

I dunno, folks, I find it kinda ridiculous that such a historic label like Chicago's Chess Records had the full capacity to load up this release with nothing but rock & roll—like its own title indicated that it would—and then they didn't actually do it, and decided to allocate more of the space to R&B and doo wop instead 🤷‍♂️. And rock & roll, R&B, and doo wop are three styles of music that have certainly found some common overlap with each other, but if you tabulate all the songs on here one by one, what you'll end up finding is that a majority of these selections are not actually rock & roll!

And at first, there's actually no indication that the deluge of great rock & roll will ever stop, because the first third or so of this album is absolute, indispensable gold that shows why Chess was such an important label for rock & roll in the first place; they had pioneers of the genre like Chuck Berry and Bo Diddley on their roster, and they were also responsible for releasing what many believe to be the first actual rock & roll record ever, 1951's "Rocket 88" by Jackie Brenston & His Delta Kings, which featured an uncredited Ike Turner as its bandleader and was produced by Sam Phillips, of Sun Records fame, which was the label that would end up giving us Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, Roy Orbison, and a whole slew of others too.

On top of those excellent, yet obvious selections, though, are ones that you might not totally expect. For instance, if you know your 50s rock & roll essentials, then you know that Bill Haley & His Comets had a couple other pretty sizeable hits in addition to their signature, era-defining tune, "Rock Around the Clock," one of which was "See You Later, Alligator." But did you know that the original, much lesser known version of this song was by a Cajun musician named Bobby Charles? The Bill Haley cover has a bit more meat on its bone, but if not for Charles' Chess release, that most popular version of this song obviously would've never existed.

And one other thing I'll add, which is actually a complete oversight on my part—my bad!—is that the ironically named dynamic vocal doo wop group, The Monotones, appear on here with the enormous doo wop-rock & roll classic, "Book of Love." Yesterday, I posted about a release from 1984 called The Best of Chess Checker Cadet Doo Wop, and totally lost sight of the fact that it somehow did not include this very song, which is probably the single-most popular doo wop tune that Chess or any of its subsidiaries ever released. So why this song wasn't on that particular comp is a total head-scratcher, but I said in that post that Chess had included all of their biggest and best doo wop hits on it, but clearly they hadn't, because, somehow, this one was actually missing 🥴.

So I really got lulled into the idea while listening to this album that this was shaping up to be one of the single-greatest label sampler compilations ever made and that it was also going to do right by the illustrious Chess name and brand as well—because all signs were pointing to exactly that. But before the end of even the first half, this release proceeded to deviate far off-track, only sprinkling in some rock & roll tunes the rest of the way, and strangely opting for stuff that in no way matched the title of this release itself. Had Chess and MCA simply titled this release The Best of Chess Records, and chopped off the 'Rock 'n' Roll' part, I wouldn't have batted an eye, but as less and less rock & roll actually kept playing as the album kept on progressing, I was left increasingly confused 🙃.

And P.S.: For the record, I added a few more tracks to my listening experience that didn't actually make it on to this release itself. See, Chess actually ended up putting out three separate Best of Rock 'n' Roll Releases. There was Vol. 1, Vol. 2, and then this release that collected both volumes together; except, a couple tracks from both Vol. 1 and Vol. 2 actually didn't make it on to that 'combined' release. But rather than treating the whole package as three separate releases, I just put them all together as one album for today's post! 🤗

Highlights:

Chuck Berry - "Maybelline" Bo Diddley - "Bo Diddley" Jackie Brenston & His Delta Cats - "Rocket 88" Bobby Charles - "See You Later Alligator" Dale Hawkins - "Suzie Q" Chuck Berry - "Johnny B. Goode" Bo Diddley - "Who Do You Love" The Students - "I'm So Young" The Monotones - "Book of Love" Tommy Tucker - "High Heel Sneakers" Dave "Baby" Cortez - "Rinky Dinky" The Jaynetts - "Sally Go Round the Roses"

[iamdyeing]

BEFORE YOU VOTE!!! I would like to share some links to my other posts detailing my egg making expertise 👇

My original egg

The pair of eggs I made as gifts for a friend's wedding

The Cleffa egg I made for myself

The many Christmas gift eggs

Boring details below the cut

-I've got plenty of time and materials, would most likely have half dozen "batches" that I'd make regularly of more popular 'mons and then do a handful of commission slots.

-Base eggs with two colors and simple spotted or single striped pattern (even if spots/stripes are shaped) would probably be like $25+USD. Additional colors/shapes would be extra $5 each. In the case of wanting a more specific pattern, like my Paldean Wooper egg seen here, would most likely only be shown on one side and would simply be a flat $25. All of this does not include like. How much shipping would cost and such I would need to figure out how I'd integrate that into the cost

-I'd prefer to do patterns based on the basic or first stages of each pokemon line, so as to keep each egg within a reasonable price. However with each of the commission slots I am more than willing to go outside my comfort zone. If you were accepted for a commission for instance, then you could easily send a hastily drawn image idea of what you'd want.

-For remakes of older eggs, they'll probably be priced $20-$30 depending on complexity. The pokemon GO egg style for example would be a simple $20, The Cleffa or Eevee eggs would be $25, and the Pumpkaboo, Wooper or Caterpie eggs would be around $30 because of strange or different details

-Needless to say I'm just curious about what everybody's thoughts are on the matter. Advice and rb's are greatly appreciated!

[mimpimuttgirl]

《ok I've been needing to start writing a diary for a very long time now (even my therapist tried to encourage me to do so) so here i go ☆-diary entry day 1-☆》

13.3.2024

(9:24 am)

currently sittinh in the bathroom floor at school, it's been like ten minutes already oughhhjf i need to get back to class soon or my class assistant is gonna bomb me with the cvtting accusations yet again wahh

im feeling so anxious but relaxed and empty at the same time..

this whole over 1.5 hours I've been just thinking about trying out snorting my adhd meds (equasym) to see what would happen lol

and also thinking abt either cutting a styro/babycut on my throat or cutting a vein on my hand so i would maby get the medical attention I've been needing this past 5 years or so

cuz like apparently me telling my psychologist that the random episodes where im actually considering sewerslide like /srs isn't concerning enough then idk what is

LIKE ALL SHE PRETTY MUCH SAID WAS "everyone has bad days sometimes and if u feel like you want to cut mby consider usind the ice cube or rubber band method next time ☺️☺️" LIKE HUHHH.... DID U GET UR LICENSE FROM TEMU OR SOMETHING WHAT THE FUCKKK !!!?!?!!!!.!?!!!!!!

(9:51 am)

alr went back to class ghhgjd

my teacher just got me a cup of coffee ty pookie but i feel so weirddd feels like im hot ad cold at the same time amd my whole body is shakinf dies and fucking explodes

(10:13 am)

ok i pussied out from snorting them and instead tried to just put the meds under my tongue to see if it has any effect ..💀

currently not really feeling any effects minus shaking and light-headiness but maby that's just me being a whimp idk I'll update later if anything happens im scareddd ( T∀T)

10:45 am

OK BAD BAD MISTAKE GGELPL..

I SRARTED SHAKING LIKE REALLY BADLY AND IT FELT LIKE I WAS GOING TO GET AN PANICATTACK OR SOMETHING

then my pussy ass went to whine to the teacher rhat i felt pretty sick and wanted to go to the nurses office, so i did

i relaxed a little after talking to the nurse but still little shaky and light headed tbh

she questioned me then told me to go eat a little then come back when im finished like alrr pooksters 😚😚

11:58 am

at the cafeteria rn but we have tuna lasagna I HATE TUNALASNGA 🗣🗣🗣

like what even is that it looks like it has the mind of it's own stopit

(erm ignore the bunnies, had to put something over that hideous creature so it wouldn't be on display in my profile 😛)

11:18

FUCKING HELLL SHESBCALLING TO THE HEALYHCENTER FUCKKKKFLFKEKJW LIKE I KNOW I NEED HELP BUT I DONT WANT MY PARENTS KNOW WE JUST HAD MY GRANDMAS FUNERAL LIKE5 DAYS AGO AND MY MOM IS PRETTY STRESSED IN GENERAL RN FUCK IM SL HORRIBLE WTF I DONT WANNA MAKE THEM WORRIED STOPPP IM THE WORST SON EVER UGHHH

11:25

the nurse said that she's just making a quick call to the center GIRL IT'S BEEN OVER TEN MINUTES WHO ARE YOU CALLINGG MY WHOLE BLOODLINE??? PLS IM SO NERVOUS

11:43

alr ok im not going to the health center, but the nurse told me that if i get worse i should go see her immediately, or go to the center.

idk im little dizzy and shaky rn but i think we good 😀👍

11:50

hm im thinking about getting a therapy dog/ animal so i wouldn't get these weird toughts and ideas maby

having animal company just relaxes and helps me so idk i did talk abt it with the nurse and she was very positive abt it and said it was a good idea :3

i remember talking to my mother abt it too but she said something like "yeah but your anxeity isn't 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 bad 🤗"

like miss mam your kid cut himself in school multiple times, is paranoid that he might k1ll himself on a whim, tried to get high from his meds just for fun and sometimes even cries in class when left alone but okay if you say so 🤷‍♂️

12:41

alr idk actually maby i should go to the nurses office then the center after all..

maby i could finally get some help to my actual issues, rather than just for my learning problems but who knows

12:50

guys maby taking my meds drug abuser style wasn't such a good idea after all me thinks

13:06

alr school ended but im currently sitting at the nurces office ughh my head spins

feels like im in a dream

13:41

okk walking to rhe health center rn wish me luck gusy

13:46

NVM UHHHSH IM HAVING DOUPTS HHELPP....

IM SO NERVOUS MABY TH8S WAS A BAD ISEA ARFTER ALL UHH

13:51

ight fam im here what noe

14:15

alr they checked my pulse and stuff,

everything was much normal than earlier but my pulse was somewhat high

now im just waiting for another doctor to come and talk to me gulps shivers

14:37

attempt to finally get proper care failed miserably im so pathetic man

they just checked my pulse n stuff and let go

no guestioning why i tried to overdose on my meds but okay.

that shit was so embarrassing dawg💀

i should've just taken more fucking piss baby pussy whimp why didn't i make them check the huge gaping scars on my leg to see if they're infected ugh

alr then i have to think something else, my fucking family and psychologists only care about my academics like i just wanna know what's wrong with me and how could it be fixed

im only diagnosed wirh dyslexia and adhd and in my opinion neither one of them makes a guy act like this tbh..

i also feel like that me being self aware of my situation and everything makes me feel like im just faking this all/ being mentally ill and it just makes me feel so embarrassed and total shit

like it's not valid

like the ppl arounds me, especially my family and friends are just being stressed out over my nonsensical shenanigans

(took me over half an hour to yap allat wtf💀)

15:13

GUYS IS EMOTIONAL SUPPROT FERRET A THING PLEAS3 JUST LOOK ST THEMMM 😭😭😭😭❤️❤️

the way i would never even look at a blade if i had one omgf

i know they are alot to handle and probably wouldn't be a good therapy animal but please jst let me be happy okay?? 😢😢💔

16:01

eepy

16:50

AAAHH HELP STHIT I FORHOT TO TELL MY PARENTS THAT MY DRUMMING LESSON ENDS AT 16:45 ...

both of my parents were just calling me non-stop (my phone was on silence mode 💀)

giggling when i walked out of the building where my class was i just saw my dad pulling away and i just stood there watching him leave like

17:13

meow got home likw 10 minutes ago

it's so weird trying to act all normal with my parents while they have no idea taht i nearly almost overdosed with my meds at school tday 😛

22:28

prolly gonna go sleep soon my heaf hurts so bad gn guys follw for more bangers🔥🔥

[marwhoa]

request: Rise!Leo x reader who is very muscly and just... scoops Leo up bridal-style. Bonus if Leo short-circuits with the most flabbergasted look on his face 😂 ~🌺👸 (can be male/female/gn, though I think female would be hilarious)

🝮 “ gotcha, leo’s wrong! ”

rise!leo x male!reader

author’s note: I made it a male reader because I liked the idea of a cheeky dude throwing off Leo lmao. Uses “You/your” for the most part, so folks who aren’t dudes can read moderately easily, or you can imagine yourself as a cool guy! 🤷‍♂️ :33 It can be read as romantic or not, mainly just a bit flirty here and there but if you’re like me, you flirt with your friends for fun, so good luck with however you read this! 💃

word count: 909

Anyone friends with these boys is bound to end up with some muscles at one point. Be it by seeing them training and just joining in for fun, simply being a hobby of yours, getting pressured to join after one too many scares, or just ending up roped into danger enough times that naturally you got to this point, at this point any answer could do. Probably more than one answer applies, too.

But regardless, that’s how you ended up where you are today, actually training in their space on your own. Since the Kraang, it was an understatement to say that they began training more. It started out a bit rough, given their wounds, so you joined alongside them to help go through the process with them—at least until they were healed. But frankly, it’s a bit fun to keep it up, so sometimes they could find you meddling around in the training space on your own.

Beginning to wind down, you were settling for your ending exercise: sitting form, one hand in your thigh, the other hand resting against the adjacent thigh, pumping a weight up and down a tad bit leisurely. Amidst your focus on internal counting and perfected breaths, you hadn’t heard Leo come in, much less call out to you. It wasn’t until you had finished your last set that you noticed he had walked right on up to you and leaned over you. He smirked, chomping a Popsicle.

You shuddered at the idea of someone biting ice cream, but nonetheless brightened at the friendly sight.

“ Leo! How are you, man? “

He gave you a once-over, eyeing your arms for a bit.

“ Say, is it just me or have you managed to bulk up since training with us? “

He squinted accusatorially at your arms, this time taking a slower bite of his ‘sicle. Not because he noticed your shudder earlier, no, no, Leo would never purposely do something he knew was unnerving you. Heavens no, he was nothing like that, how dare you accuse him of such crimes?

You, on the other hand, already settled for shutting your eyes and turning your head.

“ S-So you notice, I did think my arms became a bit more toned! Maybe even as strong as Raph now. “

Y/N flexed his muscles, grinning in the purest way all the while. Leo couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at that, licking the final part of his Popsicle clean and checking if it had a joke. (spoiler: it didn’t, but I’ll make up one for you! What happened to David after he lost his ID? scroll for the answer!)

“ Doubtful. I don’t think anyone will be stronger than Raph. With training and just being the big brother, it’s basically an earned title. “

If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought Leo was puffing out his chest with pride for his older brother! The smile swelling on your cheeks at such a display was enough that when he looked back at you, he choked a second and nervously laughed it off. You didn’t miss that blushy hue stretching across his cheeks.

“ Doubtful? I bet I could even lift you up! “

This time it’s your turn, pointing an accusatory finger at him. For emphasis, you pressed your finger into his plastron and pushed off playfully.

“ Oh yeah? I call your bluff! “

“ You what? “

“ … I may have been hanging out with Donnie before I came here. “

Y/N shook his head with a pitiful laugh then looked at Leo with a trickster’s glint in their eye. Leo couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous, but before he could give a clever quip or anything, Y/N lunged forth and swept him right on up with a twirl placed at the end for a li’l extra pizzazz.

He stammered a few times, glancing down at the Popsicle stick he dropped amidst the lift. In a teasing tone, Y/N leaned his head a bit closer to his.

“ What’s wrong, Leon? Cat gotchur tongue? “

“ Whuh-huh-ha, n-no? Hey, jokes are my thing! ”

“ Riiight, so how do you feel about being wrong? “

Y/N smirked, spinning again and swaying the red-slider in his arms with ease. Now, had this been a few years ago, or even some months ago, this would have been impossible. So, yeah, there’s a high possibility you’re just messing with him for your own pride at this point.

“ Wrong!? W-Well.. “

Leo casted his glance everywhere but you, crossing his arm while twisting his lips before finally just huffing out frustratedly,

“ I don’t mind it! Frankly, I feel I SHOULD be carried, so—thank you! “

Still no eye contact, so you settled for a devious little plan.

“ For real? Alright, then you wouldn’t mind if I carried you around the lair for fun. “

“ Exact—! Wait what? He-Hey we can talk—Y/N! Y/N, WAIT—“

His pleas fell upon deafened ears as you waltzed out the room and through hallways—checking rooms—to show off your accomplishment. The reactions were mixed. You either got a, “ Whoa! Impressive! ” or someone (coughraphcoughdonniecoughsplintercough) laughing and exclaiming, “ Leo/Blue, your face! Aww, if somebody embarrassed. ” Or, both those reactions, somehow simultaneously.

But, Leo never pushed or pulled away from you, so, win/win?

Oh yeah, and the answer to the earlier joke was we just call him Dav now. Hehe, get it? Cause—Cause his name’s David, and he lost his ID… I can’t stop laughing, please.

I love dumb jokes.

[sylvanas-girlkisser]

The Solari theory, aka. “here’s how Mel can still win”

Cast your mind back to episode 8, remember this dress from the flashback?

It’s a really nice dress right? It’s also nothing even remotely resembling Noxian fashion (which tends to be a lot of hard edges and black on black). What it does kinda resemble is Rakkor fashion. Specifically that gold ring symbol on her chest looks like a Solari insignia.

Yes i created a reference board just to make this point, cause it’s kinda what this entire theory relies on.

So “Rakkor”, “Solari”, weird fantasy terms, what do they mean? Well, the Rakkor are the largest, and most militarized of the tribes inhabitingthe Mount Targon region. The Solari are a religious order which most (but not all) Rakkor belongs to, who as you may have guessed from the name, worship the sun.

Also just to avoid confusion: oftentimes when you hear the word “tribe” used in fantasy, its meant to imply some sorta small, “In-touch with nature” nomadic community, based off of white people’s fetishized views of indigenous cultures. That is not the case here, the Rakkor are a vast (and diverse) group of people, they have universities, religious schisms, vast cities, and oh yeah, a well-trained standing army that could probably go toe to toe with Noxus.

Here’s the thing though, Mount Targon is nowhere near Noxian territory, but other than that, the cultural values of two groups line up pretty well. Noxus sees itself as the great liberator, the Rakkor sees themself as the protectors of Mount Targon (and its’ tribes), both are really into military prowess. Meaning if Ambessa, for some reason ran into a solari warrior, they would probably hit it off.

However, given that the Noxian capital is on the other side of the planet from mount Targon, and that the Rakkor believes in communally raising children within temples, a relationship probably wouldn’t last. I can’t imagine Ambessa being particularly excited by the idea of her daughter being raised side by side with “peasants”.

And you might be like “hold on Valk are you really basing all off this on a dress scene in one seen? That seems kinda thin.” At which point I would like to draw your attention to my second big piece of evidence: Mel’s tattoos.

(And yes they are tattoos. they’re there while she sleeps, and they stretch/deform with her skin.)

Now scroll back up to my reference board for Solari sigils. Notice anything familiar? Yup a lot of them also have golden tattoos on their upper bodies, however theirs are in circular patterns fitting the solari aesthetic, whereas Mel’s are in a more art deco/Piltover style. You’ll also notice: Mel doesn’t have her tattoos yet in the flashback.

Which brings us to the meat of the theory: Mel’s dad is a Solari, who at some point during Mel’s lifetime had a falling out with Ambessa; maybe it was the same thing that led to Mel being semi-disowned? Who knows 🤷‍♂️, would explain why she smeared gold over her painting of the Noxian capital though. Until that point, Mel’s dad had been teaching her about his side of her cultural heritage, which she clearly had an interest in (why else would she wear a Solari dress in what I assume to be Ionia?)

After being shipped off to Piltover, Mel found someone who could give her gold tattoos similar to the ones worn by the Solari, but chose to instead have them made in a Piltover style. Possibly as an attempt to combine her cultural heritage with her new home? Or maybe as a way to own her Rakkor heritage without seeming like she was giving Noxus the middle finger?

How does all of this explains how Mel might survive the hextech rocket? Well the last thing we see before the rocket hits the council building is this:

A flash of light travelling across Mel’s tattoos in a way that doesn’t quite seem to fit with either the light already in the room, or the light emitted by the rocket’s engine. Light magic, like that practiced by the Solari however, is recognizable by its golden glow, and is very commonly used for defensive purposes.

Magic may be illegal in Piltover, but it’s not in Noxus; in fact there you are all but obligated to hone your magical abilities if you have them. So Mel grows up, having inherited her father’s magic and has some of the best trainers money can buy. She is exiled to Piltover where magic is forbidden, thereby also severing her ties to her dad. But in that split second before the rocket hits, she’s no longer thinking, instincts kick in before her conscious mind even registers the dangers, reaching out despite the rust, projecting a magical barrier around herself and those closest to her.

Because lets be honest here, they’re not gonna kill of Jayce and Viktor, and this feels like the least bs way they could survive the blast.

“But wait!” I hear you say: “Isn’t Mel’s dad Jago Medarda?” And no, it is almost certainly not. Let’s disregard Jago being white, because genetics can be weird and characters can have their race changed; what’s more likely is that Jago has been retconned. There’s just too much lore that doesn’t add up otherwise.

For those who have no idea what I’m talking about: There’s a page on the official lore wiki, which predates Arcane by years, saying that house Medarda is a well-established house in Piltover lead by an old white guy named Jago Medarda. Jago’s heir apparent is a (black or mixed race) man named Jalrond “Jae” Medarda; which seems to go against Mel being “the richest person in Piltover, but the poorest Medarda”. It also just doesn’t make sense to “exile” Mel to Piltover if she’s got like half her family already living there, Ambessa would already have a political presence. There’s also some, a bit iffy references to house Medarda arming anti-Noxus rebels, but those can potentially be explained, I just don’t wanna do a deep dive into Noxian poltics here.

[bisexualhobi]

sorry, i saw you had an anon here that said 'if you exclude the UK kpop is weird in Europe' and as a british person living in the uk, i would like to enter my two cents in here.

kpop here is not something that is heard of, in any demographic of people. you ask anyone if they have heard of the genre and they shrug their shoulders. i think the most well known kpop song in the uk is gangnam style and that's only because the people here in the uk think it's a piss take. an actual joke. and when you tell them it's a kpop song, they literally go blank because they have just no idea. kpop (specifically bts) are never played on radio stations. the only times ive heard bts on the radio in the uk is twice. once, was the Coldplay collab, and that's only because coldplay are a massive british band and second time was yet to come because ytc only just scraped it into the uk top 40 charts and placed like number 35 or something.

which brings me to the next point — kpop dont chart here in the uk. you have better chance of seeing grime artists like stormy, skepta, dave, bugzy malone etc chart higher than kpop acts, along with your typical americans like lizzo, Taylor swift, Justin bieber etc.

and as for wembley, everyone seems to believe that it sold out because 'bts are popular in the uk'.. no. bts sold out their 2 nights because unlike america that can sell out a stadium just with their own country, there were people from all over europe fighting for wembley tickets. it was a free for all over tickets from the entire continent of europe and beyond. if it was just down to the uk, bts would be lucky to fill a stadium half the capacity of wembley.

i feel like ive gone off a little but 🤷🏻‍♀️ had to have my wee say yk

tysm for this insight jords! no I was actually kinda confused bc from my perspective bts is without a doubt the biggest act right now - but that's in latin america and mainly in mexico where it's still only teenagers and gen zers that know them. but if you compare them to western artists ofc the gp awareness significantly drops, which I imagine is the case in europe. I imagine Harry styles is without a doubt the biggest artist in the UK now. and it's interesting to hear abt wembley - it makes total sense! if they could tour europe more maybe that would help the gp awareness but also I doubt they'd sell out wembley that way.

very interesting how tough kpop has had it in the uk music industry - I wonder what the cultural nuances are? cause even other groups like blackpink or twice have never made it there so you can't chalk it up to bts. I guess the aversion to a different language and culture is strong 🤷‍♂️

[you-are-worth-the-wait]

Inpatient. I don’t think I trust myself or my skills to do that. More power to you. I think mental health hid my weaknesses because I prolly am best at reading people, the situation, and making things up as I go in order to achieve the optimal outcome. My flaws and knowledge deficit is hidden in that setting but my strengths are utilized since the patient population is so dynamic at any given moment that you kinda just gotta make things up as you go. I had/have an idea of what you want in your career path. I listen sometimes 🤷‍♂️ you and I have a different mindset and idea of where we see our career paths going but I think we have the same ultimate goal in the end of what we feel will give us the greatest sense of accomplishment.

“Progress of feeling myself”. What did you mean by that? “Won’t work at your PCC”. Is it wrong that I kinda smiled and laughed a little even though it’s prolly such a serious statement? Prolly me defense mechanism kicking in. I know the gravity of the statement and situation and I’m sorry you feel that way. I wish there was a way I could help you get past the complications that you have in your mind. As complicated as everything is in the world around us, I never thought we were complicated. We were comfortably simplistic in our approach to/with each other. Everyone else seemed to get in our way or at least the ones who didn’t know or understand us. Too bad we couldn’t just live for ourselves.

I’m not disappointed. I don’t think that’s the correct word. I don’t know how to convey what I’m thinking and it would prolly be easier for me to let you read my expression. I don’t think I really would necessarily use words. I liken it to the blank expression you give me in the “aftermath of your bliss”. How I will try to talk to you but you kind of just stare at me blankly trying to process what I’m saying but not really connecting the dots. I think that’s what I would try to convey. I’m not sad, frustrated, disappointed, or what not because a part of me already kinda knew you’d say no. I did my best to help you the way I thought I knew how to even though I knew it may not make a difference…but I had to try. The dreamer in me hopes and dreams and is naive to the logic of reality but that doesn’t make it hurt any less when reality is what it is. So don’t think I’m disappointed in you or your response. I told you I would hate to have you look at me that way so I don’t intend to do that to you unless I felt in my mind and heart that whatever you did was worth that damnation 🤷‍♂️

How do you say what you want to say without saying it?

I’m sorry that I’m such a big deal to you that it’s preventing you from doing things that you want to possibly do. Is there anything I can say or do to help you get past whatever it is that’s preventing you from doing whatever it is that you want to do? Want me to gain weight and look less attractive? I’m on my way to that 😞 want me to get physically hurt and run down so I’m not so reckless and you feel the need to keep up with my random energy? I’m hurting pretty bad since our last league game…that’s been over 3 months ago, I think. Fashion sense and style on bleah…check. Food taste devolving…check. No usable skills…augh. Now I see why people ask me, “why are you single”? Here’s some reasons.

So can I ask you something? With everything that you are saying, doing, processing, and what nots…are you at any different point in how you feel about what you are doing, what you are trying to accomplish, or if anything…any closer to knowing what you want for yourself and where I fit in that picture. More obviously and specifically, you and me…us? Has enough time passed for me to ask that question?

You know…every day, at any given moment, with any person or situation, I find myself saying, “I just need that one chance”. Like, you cast a hundred lines out into the ocean in an attempt to catch 100 different types of fish, knowing that whichever fish you catch will be a world record, and all you are waiting for is the chance to see any line tugged once, for the chance that could change your life. I kinda feel that way. I am chaotically focused. I’ve got so many random situations where I feel like if I’m given that one chance in whatever situation, I’m running with it. Do you feel that way? Or are you focused on one thing, putting all your focus and energy into that, and hoping it works out? Life is pretty messed up and I feel like I’m just in survival mode but if that one chance comes along, it’s gonna be pretty dang fun. But till then…ehhh.

I’m stuck at another conundrum. To help a “stranger” or not financially, again. I know my life isn’t the greatest situation but I know that I am better off financially than most. Money doesn’t hold the same value to me as it does for others because of life circumstances. When it comes to “helping someone out”, there is a blurred negated line where $100, $1,000, or $10,000 may look the same to me but means a world of difference to someone else. I do know that $100,000 is significant to me. Honestly, if I told you how much I’ve “let people borrow” from me, you’d prolly think I was crazy 😶 I know I’m going off to my trips next week but I told someone to write out their expenses to me. I’ve already gone over their financial statements. I know I’m no financial advisor but I figure if I can take a look at what they’ve got going on, I’ll see what I can help them out with, and then make a determination if I could help them out somehow. Timeline of reimbursement doesn’t really matter to me. Heck, if I died tomorrow, everyone who owed me anything wouldn’t need to pay me back, and that’s free money for them cuz no one really knows about those arrangements. Well, except for the really major ones, where I had something notarized. I may be naively helpful but I’m not a complete idiot when it comes to certain things. So yeah…depending on their statements and what not, I’ll see what I can do to help them. The least I can do, right?

If I validated you, your feelings, or what not, I didn’t mean to. I’m still having trouble writing the way I’m not supposed to. If I did, could you point out what part or what I said that you could/rather do without.