#Memory Call

[radcalls]

welcome to radcalls

this is an explicitly pro-radqueer source/canon/media/timeline call blog for anyone that needs it. we also do new person identification help calls. we are anti-c for noncon paras and dont believe in the validity of an animal's or chrono-minor's consent.

w̳h̳a̳t̳ ̳i̳s̳ ̳n̳e̳e̳d̳e̳d̳ ̳i̳n̳ ̳a̳ ̳c̳a̳l̳l̳ who you are and where youre from what you are (introject, kin, da, irl, transcharacter, ect) how old you are & body age who you are looking for age range youre comfy with (no chrono minor x chrono adult/r or /sx please) identifying information/memories

w̳h̳o̳ ̳a̳m̳ ̳i̳ ̳c̳a̳l̳l̳ anything you know about yourself color you or other people associate with you anything/ideas you have about your source anyone you remember with as much detail as you can any memories you have and are comfy sharing

t̳a̳g̳g̳i̳n̳g̳ ̳s̳y̳s̳t̳e̳m̳ #[mod base tag] #shift: [shift id if relevant]

[prince-virgil]

just some doodles from the other day

[lorenzonuti]

Metal Gear Solid.

The Shadow Moses incident.

Twitter (X) | Instagram | Artstation

[babyjaans]

I’m rewatching supernatural, and I can’t believe I never realised this before, but sam and dean are the exact opposite of what they think of themselves. In the brothers’ eyes Sam is the more emotionally open one, or the one with more empathy, and yet he struggles to make close relationships that aren’t romantic. He keeps everyone at arms distance: john, mary, bobby, cas, and so many other examples throughout the series. Whereas dean is supposed to be closed off and emotionally stunted, and yet he has deeper connections with almost all recurring characters: garth, jody, donna, claire (obviously the ones mentioned before). He lets people in more easily than sam. Even how he knows all the shopkeepers in lebanon, whereas they don’t seem to know sam (ie 14x13).

[dandelionjack]

on tumblr you can say words such as ‘doctor who is like mythology to me. it’s like an ongoing cosmogonic folktale’ and you will recieve 5 notes from people that are willing to indulge your insanity. in real life you say things like how are the kids and was your holiday fun and the weather’s lovely this morning. and i think that’s beautiful. autism.com/careers

[melsun7]

Pov Percy, in SON, unable to beat the greek allegations, this boy was walking around with "GREEK" written on his forehead fr

[jedi-starbird]

Alpha-17 and Obi-Wan being friends (derogatory) on 17's part and friends (threatening) on Obi-Wan's part is such an underrated dynamic

They could be so funny and terrifying, like Obi-Wan went through a soul shredding experience with Alpha-17 as his only company. They're friends because what else are you gonna be after you witness each other at absolute rock bottom from torture.

It's like 'dog put in cage of cheetah who's threatening to go crazy', except the dog is a grizzly bear and also threatening to go crazy.

Emotional support trooper except the trooper in question has never done any sort of supporting in his life and is actively an emotional distress trooper to a great number of the CC batch.

I want them texting everyday, I want Obi-Wan mailing handmade BFF bracelets to Alpha and Alpha sending pics back of him flipping off the camera but still wearing them, I want Alpha using Obi-Wan to keep track of and occasionally terrorize his cadets, I want 17 ending problems in the GAR (like Krell) before they begin because Obi-Wan has him shipped out on a personal transport at the first opportunity, decked out with slug-throwers Obi-Wan got him for his decant-day.

Natborn officers think this is all just an odd indulgence of General Kenobi, the Vode, however, correctly identify it as a goddamn threat and their danger assessment of Obi-Wan ticks up significantly.

When Alpha arrives on Kamino, Shaak Ti presses a shiny new comm into his hand. It has the Jedi Order symbol painted onto it alongside a smiley face sticker, and it pings immediately with a new message: Hello! I hope you're settling in well!

Alpha stares at the message, stares at the singular contact named 'OWK' and then stares Shaak Ti in the eye as he pitches the comm straight into the ocean. Shaak Ti's serene smile only grows larger as she calmly reaches into her robes and pulls out an identical comm, only this one has a frowny face sticker, and presses it into his hand. It lights up: I'm afraid we've bonded, Alpha :). Alpha shuts it off and pockets it with resignation.

Cody arrives on Alpha-17's personal recommendation.

A-17: He's the most difficult little bastard I have. You're perfect for each other. OWK: Thank you, he's very handsome :3 A-17: No. Stop.

The first thing he asks once he gets comfortable is who his general is texting so much that has him swinging his legs and twirling his hair. Cody assumes it's Anakin, given they seem joint at the hip anyway, but little does he know Obi-Wan's ability to consistently have the Weirdest Relationships Ever.

"Oh, it's Alpha-17, I understand you're familiar with each other?" Hmm. OK. Cody.exe is experiencing a processing error, please hold. He exits the room instead of answering. The next day he peeks over the General's shoulder when he's texting and sees walls of rambling messages from Obi-Wan. Alpha-17 replies every hour with a single text: Lose this number. Obi-Wan giggles. "He's so funny." he says.

When Obi-Wan meets the rest of the CC batch, Cody makes sure to stand perfectly angled so that he can record the reactions when his general cuts off their introductions with "Oh, no need, Alpha-17's told me all about you." It's always immediate FEAR.JPG followed by a slow spiral of What The Fuck.

What do you mean by that General. What does that mean Cody. What do you mean they text. No. Cody. What the fuck is happening, Cody. Alpha-17 doesn't have friends he has enemies and enemies he tolerates enough not to shoot on sight.

OWK: Wolffe reached for his vambrace? when I mentioned you A-17: That's where he keeps his spare knife. OWK: Hm that does explain the way he eyed me up, ambitious. A-17: Clearly not enough, he should have followed through. I taught them better.

[sforzesco]

2025's ides of march illustration!

I've been doing one a year since the 2022 presidential election*, so. you know! keeping up with the thematic tradition. sometimes politicians compare themselves to caesar crossing the rubicon and you just gotta. process that. do an annual re read of a bunch of different literature that use the ides as their stage. go through commentary on dante's divine comedy. watch a production of julius caesar. for unrelated reasons, ofc.

(*other countries besides america have elections)

it's also funny how people will debate whether or not the optimates/conspirators/whatever were ungrateful assholes in my inbox whenever I post one of these, like the ides of march hasn't been a well established narrative that people have been using to explore other stuff for centuries. take it to an academic conference! we have empire and autocracy and absolutely batshit press conferences to discuss!!

and as always, some reading material! for fun and whimsy. for more on brutus as an established allegorical figure:

The Brutus Revival: Parricide and Tyrannicide During The Renaissance, Mafredi Piccolomini

and on roman conspiracies narratives

Conspiracy Narratives in Roman History, V.E. Pagan

[morganbritton132]

There’s a replica of a military tank in the center of the park.

Around the tank is a fence and around the fence, there are multiple signs telling you not to climb on it. The purpose of the tank is to memorialize the soldiers of WWII but currently, Steve Harrington is standing on top of it.

The (only) great thing about a trainee is that Hopper can send Callahan over to handle the trespassing first grader.

He looks away to scan the park and when he looks back, Steve is trying to kick Callahan in the head. Hopper whistles, “Knock it off, Harrington. The sign says no trespassing. Get down.”

Steve explodes, “I. Don’t. Know. How. To. Read!!”

He emphasizes this outburst by ripping off one of his shoes and throwing it at Hopper. It bouncing off his chest and Hopper gives him a flat look, “Get down.”

Steve goes for his other shoe but Hopper is already pass Callahan, grabbing him by the leg and yanking him off the tank. He gets kicked in the gut for his trouble.

He keeps ahold of him, carrying Steve kicking and screaming over to the truck and sitting him on the hood. The whole time thinking, this is new.

Steve’s troublesome but mostly polite. Half the time, Hopper’s just got to tell him to stop doing stuff and he will. He’s never seen a tantrum before.

“You know it’s against the law to hit a cop. What you just did would be called assaulting a police officer,” Hopper say because Steve likes to show off what he knows about law. “Could spend some time in jail.”

“Good,” Steve sniffles. He weakly kicks out again, just barely missing Callahan. “I want to go to jail.”

“That’s good,” Hopper says flatly. “Because that’s where you’re going.”

He picks the kid up again and unceremoniously dumps him in the backseat. He gets in the front. Callahan gets in the passenger seat, asks, “Boss, you’re not really going to..”

Steve’s still crying when Hopper starts the car. He’s eerily quiet about it but Hopper can see the tears in the rearview and he can hear the sniffles. He doesn’t say anything but drive.

He doesn’t go to the precinct despite what he says. He drives out to Benny’s Burgers, parks the kid in a booth, and then plays the cop, “I have some questions.”

Steve has his head down, pillowed by his arms. His shoulders are shaking with tears but his voice is painfully steady when he sniffles, “Need’a lawyer.”

“Callahan is not pressing charges,” Hopper says. “I need to know what happened for my incident report. I gotta explain why you tried to kick his head off his shoulders.”

“Cause he’s a butthead and I hate him.”

Hopper hums, “And what made you angry enough to do that?”

Steve looks up at him.

His watery brown eyes meeting his, and then Steve cries, “Tommy doesn’t want to be my friend anymore!”

Hopper thinks, Jesus Christ.

[aroaceleovaldez]

Nico referring to his mom as "Mama" implies he most likely at least used to refer to Hades as "Papa" and i 100% headcanon he still does but mostly in the manner of him having the entire Underworld wrapped around his finger for being the baby of the family

[radcalls]

hihihihiim i dont type goof sp be tptent with me pl\ease its hard

im a goob him from thw feild researcg au, im stage one twistede and i thinka n adult, i miss scrabes a lot and have toon autissm or somethikang. i never told anyonw buir somethiamea i see scraps wheer other peop;e stanf and i hug them teayl tight be caiuse i thinkl theior her. imvery hihgh empathu and evern c are abut late dtage twisteds, its scatryh having the coru[sed ichor. im just a litle guy who vares a lrto i remermber scraps hsd a specifiv noicname foem e but if orgot what it wasw rn.. um um other things is um when im saded i slesp facfe down witnh my arms on ym heaf.. ita ckomfortging. (will helt trdanslate later :D)

Good luck Goob!

[peace-hunter]

I just realized. One thing that Optimus will certainly be educated on by the Primes in the Haunted AU is the various was One Can Kill A Quintesson! Leaving some Autobots confused at times when he's teaching them in return because 'This sounds pretty Specific...???'

It's slightly competitive on the Primes' part because yeah, the Deceptions do got the High Guard being good at killing Quintessons too but. They're the Real Experts. (Are they salty? Naaaah they're not. Much. Kinda.)

AKJSHDK YEAH YOU'RE SO RIGHT I LOVE THAT <333

they got so good at squishing the goddamn bugs and they're thrilled they can save Optimus the pain of figuring out their weak points through trial and error like they did. they're gonna make a pro out of their baby brother in no time.

and if they just so happen to know some of the Decepticons will be majorly pissed off at the fact OP is already on par with the best of what used to be the High Guard when he only has a fraction of their experience... well, happy coincidences, y'know?

and if they happen to teach Optimus how to crack open a Quintesson in just the right way to make some Decepticons see ghosts through him... that's between them and the people they're haunting :)

haunted au

[amvipod]

stupid guy and his dumb grandson

watched s7 a while ago! this post is dedicated to me circa 2017. sorry for party rocking

[softcenteregg]

// in every age, keep chasing after me // ❤️💛

[helloilikepurple]

DC X DP - DeAged

The Nasty Burger explosion took a lot from Danny.

Stopping Dan meant nothing when Danny lost everything. His friends, his parents, his sister, his teacher - all gone. Danny, desperate to not become Dan, fled. He would not let Vlad destroy the only thing he had left; himself. He didn't turn human again if he could avoid it. Let Danny Fenton die with his family.

He did what he could, trying to keep it all together. Avoid Vlad. Catch havoc-wreaking ghosts. Try to not have a panic attack every time he saw his reflection. FentonWorks became out-of-bounds. No one was sure how to turn off the portal or any of the house's defence mechanisms so it was taped up instead.

Danny kept the GIW away. They wanted his parents' research, even if they had to bend the law to get it. Danny would not let them have it. Never.

But the GIW was persistent and Danny weak from nearly two months of being Phantom and nothing else. He was so tired. Tired from grieving, from fighting, from wandering around, completely lost and alone.

The GIW got a lucky shot in. Danny went down. He woke up, still ghost, somewhere white. He'd trained himself not to have to turn back. He was grateful he did.

The GIW studied him. Danny did not have the energy to fight back. The will to survive. Curled up in his cell, bloody and becoming less human with every passing day, Clockwork finally intervened.

He could not let the future High King wither away into nothing.

With Nocturn's help, he whisked him away. His world was dying anyway. With no one to maintain the portal, it would soon overload and explode. The radiation would kill all life on Earth, leaving nothing behind, and taking with it the potential for new life. One world among infinite realities meant nothing. But Danny, as High King, is a singularity. A unique existence, only found in one reality. Clockwork, for the sake of everything that lives and dies, could not let Danny fade away.

Danny slept at the Far Frozen, dreaming of his family, his friends, and the stars he would one day rule over. He healed, wounds knitting together into scars and fractured core slowly, ever so slowly, repairing itself. A future Ancient, bound to protect all that is and will be, was bound to be very badly hurt from such a loss.

Clockwork only wished he could have done more, but to remove Danny too early would have spelt disaster worse than the deaths of billions. This boy would someday be someone he'd proudly call his grandson. Seeing that future alone was enough to make his own core ache for the young one.

The Infinite Realms wept for its child, still but a babe yet having suffered so much. It embraced its future King, blessing him with its loyalty and adoration. The ghosts of the realms, spread far and wide over distant realities, timelines and worlds, felt the loss too.

Danny healed, unaware of how loved and precious he was to so many - how far he was from alone. The dead's sudden quiet unsettled many. Enemies froze in the silent mourning, animosity forgotten. Raging wars came to abrupt ends. So many, unable to bear the ever-reaching, unidentifiable pain in the air killed themselves. Good, kind people cried alone.

Magic users, like Constantine and Zatanna, hid, waiting out the Infinite Realm's despair for its child. No one spoke of it, for fear of disrespecting the dimension between dimensions. But they hid, and they waited, and they couldn't help but worry for themselves and everything and everyone else.

Danny got a lot of visitors. Ancients, regular ghosts, crowded around his bed, gifting him blessings and support. Danny slept, he healed, and his world died, taking with it all he'd known. He wouldn't remember or know of any of this when he woke  - even the memories of his pleasant dreams will have left him. He'll awaken and think himself entirely alone.

But he'll know, someday.

Clockwork will make sure of it.

---

Danny doesn't know where he is or who he is.

He has a vague idea. His name. His life and his death. But so much is so distant, like impressions on sand, washed away by the ocean. He knows he should be bigger. He knows this isn't home. He knows there is no home anymore.

He knows there are people he misses, but he doesn't know who they are or where they've gone. He knows so little yet so much. White walls and orange hair, green (toxic, writhing green) and hazmat suits, white and black and orange and blue. Expensive, Packers-branded cologne, burning flesh, the scream of an alarm and laughter and fear and hope and love and pain and loss. Disjointed flashes, snippets of another life.

And this isn't familiar - this city and these people. These crowded, filthy streets aren't home, but there's no home anymore so of course they aren't. And maybe Danny should be afraid. He doesn't know where he is, or how he got here. There are people, so tall, walking around him not sparing him a glance. It's loud and smelly and so much to process all at once.

But Danny doesn't care because he's so tired, and he wants nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep the day away. But he doesn't have a home, so obviously he doesn't have a bed either. He looks around for somewhere else to sleep, rubbing at his chest subconsciously as he does.

There, a building, on the other side of the road. The windows are tinted, but the doors open and Danny, through the crowds and passing traffic, catches a glimpse of what has to be a couch. Maybe the people that own the building will let him sleep on their couch for a little bit.

So he crosses the street, sticking close to the legs of some lady with skinny heels that go tap-tap-tap so the cars don't go because they can't see him. The lady turns to go a different way after but it's okay because Danny is in front of the building now.

He pushes the door open and slips inside. It's quieter inside, and warmer. Danny wasn't cold outside but in here there's a nice heat that makes him feel even sleepier. He looks around at the fancy chairs and potted plants and lights, and is happy to see there are couches. Long couches, with lots of pillows and space for him to spread out.

He walks up to the desk. He's too short to see over it, and it makes him kind of angry because he's sure he's supposed to be taller. But he figures maybe he remembers wrong because people don't just shrink. Except, he's a halfa so maybe ghosts do?

"Hello?"

There's a lady here too, behind the desk, but unlike the one he followed across the street she has short, curly hair. Danny wonders if she's wearing skinny heels too. Leaning his head back, he can see her look up, glance around, and then look back down.

Danny pouts. Did she not see him?

"Hello?"

He waves an arm this time, reaching as high as he can to catch her attention. She finally sees him, eyes widening in surprise. "Oh, sorry! Hello." She has a nice voice.

"Your voice is pretty."

She smiles, and Danny decides her smile is nice too. "Why thank you. You have a pretty voice too. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Can I please sleep on your couch? Just for a little bit."

"Of course you can. Would you like a blanket? I could fetch one for you from the staff room."

Danny shakes his head. "I'm okay. Thank you."

"Alright. But if you change your mind, do tell me."

"You're very nice."

"Thank you, but it's really no problem. Not much to do today anyway."

"You should sleep too then. Sleep is good."

She giggles. "That is a very good idea. I just might take your advice." Danny nods. He has lots of good ideas. "Okay. I'm gonna' go nap now. Bye-bye."

"Sleep well."

There are a few couches, and for a bit Danny's not sure which one to sleep on. He chooses the one with the most pillows. It's very comfy, and the pillows are nice too. He puts one under his head and hugs another, curling up around it. He falls asleep in seconds.

-

When a toddler with black and blue eyes asked to sleep on one of the couches on in the reception hall of Wayne enterprises, May had assumed he was one of Bruce's boys. He certainly fit the type Gotham's favourite playboy liked to adopt, and it wasn't unusual for his wards to show up out of the blue.

Once she found Tim Drake passed out on the floor under her desk. Apparently, he'd been hiding from Dick who was visiting from Blüdhaven and forgot to bring his coffee with him, consequently falling asleep while he waited for her to arrive so he could ask her to go pick some up for him. That had been an interesting Thursday morning. 

On another memorable occasion, Cass, Bruce's only official daughter, and her girlfriend Steph had shown up, said hi, went upstairs, then came back down after about an hour, giggling as they ran out with a wave goodbye. Not even ten minutes later, Bruce himself stumbled out of the elevator, absolutely covered in purple glitter. May remembers raising an eyebrow and asking if Bruce wanted her to have another suit brought in.

He'd ended up collapsing on one of the couches with an exhausted sigh, and said he'd have Alfred pick him up instead. He left a sparkly trail behind him when he walked, and the couch he sat on had to be replaced because, even after numerous cleaning attempts, no one could get the glitter out. He had glitter in his hair for months afterwards.

So, May hadn't bat an eye when the little boy came in. Well aware Bruce had several meetings scheduled that day, she sent him an email saying one of his kids was taking a nap in the reception hall and resolved to look out for the boy herself. Throughout the day, she made sure to check on him often, making sure no one picked him up ran (this was Gotham after all).

He slept soundly for most of her work day, barely shifting. She ended up putting a blanket on him herself during her lunch break and leaving him a water bottle and little snack for when he woke up. She also made sure security kept an eye on him whenever she left for whatever reason.

It was well into the afternoon when Bruce finally replied to her email and asked if his kid was still sleeping downstairs. She said yes, and not long after he arrived on the ground level. He walked up to her desk and asked if his kid had caused her any trouble. She smiled and assured him no.

Then Bruce asked where Tim was.

"Sorry? Tim isn't here today."

Bruce frowned, looking just as confused as she felt. "My apologies. You said one of my wards was asleep here. I assumed it was Tim."

"Oh! No, no, it's not Tim. Well, I don't actually know his name but the little guy has been here since this morning." She gestured to the toddler in question.

Bruce turned around, saw him, and frowned. "He's not one of mine."

"He's not?"

"No. Are you sure he's not an employee's child?" He kept his eyes on the boy, eyes narrowed in thought.

"Yes, I am. Only three employees brought in their children today, and all of them are ten or above. He can't be older than five." She frowned now too, turning to her computer to double check. "I'll send out a company-wide email to be sure. I should have done this sooner. I'm sorry, I was just so sure he was under your care."

"It's alright, May. I'm not upset. I'm just worried about him. When about in the morning did he get here?"

She glanced up, but Bruce was still looking at the sleeping boy. "A little after nine."

"And he's been sleeping all that time?"

"Yes, as far as I'm aware."

"Alright. Thank you for looking after him. I'll take it from here."

"Of course, sir. I'll reach out to you if anyone identifies him."

He nodded appreciatively and walked over to the boy. She watched, frustrated with herself. She's worked as one of Wayne Enterprise's receptionists for over four years. She should have known better than to just assume some random, black haired blue eyed child was Bruce's kid. She should have at least reached out to make sure that was the case.

She sighed as Bruce knelt down by the couch and gently shook the little boy awake, resting her head in the palm of her hand. This poor child. His poor parents. They must be worried sick.

She has to make this right.

---

[butterflyscribbles]

Is Sonic closer to Tom than Maddie because he imprinted on Tom as a bestie first? I've wondered this since seeing the trilogy for the first time...

It’s hard to imagine that he wouldn’t be at least a little closer with Tom than he is Maddie simply because of the events in STH1.

He even described Tom as his favorite person before even meeting him and Tom was the first person he went to when he needed to feel safe.

I know a lot of people sometimes see his outrage when Tom announces he plans to move to San Fransisco as out of character or over the top, but all I see is a kid with separation anxiety hearing the one pillar he had in Green Hills is leaving him behind.

All this is to say that im sure he loves and adores Maddie too. That’s his mama after all💙