#a lot of things happened

[idoltenshi]

Check out Diasomnia Arc Chapter 4 ( Eng Sub )

[notsofrozt]

I finally did it. I finally watched LMK season 4 :D

[xxxangeleyesxxx]

Trigger Warning - Blood and Action Violence

Beautiful Crime

Curled up in the bathtub, with the shower curtain covering her shivering body, Nina cried. The blood from the bullet wound on her stomach drenched the fabric of the curtain and one of her favorite dresses. She screamed when another bullet came flying through the wall and hit a blue tile above her. She hoped that the metal and concrete of the bathtub would be enough to save her from another shot. Was this Dad coming to save her? Or was this a rival gang? Either way, she was terrified. She was probably going to die all alone in this bathroom. A causality of war.

—————————————————————————

When the men who brought her here had first put the bag over her head and stuffed her into the car, Nina had struggled and panicked at first. It was a natural human reaction. But, like she had always been taught to do, Nina calmed down as quickly as she could and listened to her surroundings. She gaged the time she had been in the car to equate about 40 minutes and had listened to the voices around her. She recognized several. They were Goedelitz and The Baby’s men. She was probably being trafficked. Even though the knowledge of this was horrifying, Nina remained calm. Dad would probably find out she was missing in no time, and come to get her as soon as possible.

What she had not expected when she had arrived at the location however, was to be treated like an esteemed guest. Goedelitz and The Baby themselves had come to greet her, with a gourmet dinner nonetheless. Nina didn’t touch it, she wasn’t hungry, didn’t trust that it wasn’t doused with something, and any appetite she might have had left her when she watched the man across from her eat his meal. The way the “professor” slobbered all over himself while he bit into and slurped up the fruit made Nina feel more ill than she already had.

They told her then that they had found out that she, the sweet little bartender and cocktail waitress who worked at that underground bar, was actually gathering intel for the Bonaparte family. And not just that, instead of killing her had opted to hold her hostage to put her father in a corner. They had somehow figured out Nina’s relationship with Franz Bonaparte, her cover was completely and irreparably blown. Even if she did survive this mess she wouldn’t be able to do work out in the open anymore, she wondered if Dad would even let her outside by herself after this.

“Once my father realizes where I am, he will come! And when he comes he will make each and every single one of you wish you were never born!” Nina got up from her chair and slammed her hands on the table, tired of all of this fake politeness.

The two men across the table just chuckled at Nina like she was a naive child. Goedelitz cut into one of his pears and popped the piece into his mouth, the juice slipped out of his lips. Nina shivered in pure disgust. “Oh believe me, we fully intend for him to come. Once he realizes you’re here no force on earth could keep him away.” He looked behind her at his bodyguard and nodded his head, signaling her to be “escorted” out of the room.

And so she ended up in here. A small bedroom with a queen-sized bed and a bathroom connected. Nina hid in the bathroom, because if someone came to get her at least the other door opening would serve as a warning. She checked to make sure her spare revolver was secure in its place on her garter. She turned off the safety.

There was a weird sound coming from the sink. A strange tapping sound. Nina cautiously approached.

“Help me.” A woman’s voice said, it was light and accented. Nina looked around the bathroom and ever so slightly peered outside into the main room, but couldn’t find the source.

“Help me…” It was coming from the sink. Nina put her hair behind her ear and tuned in. “Please help me!”

“Where are you?” She was probably being trafficked, the thought made Nina’s heart quicken and her blood run cold.

“The third floor.” If Nina’s calculations were correct, she was currently on the second floor. She looked above her. “Please get me out of here! I have a baby boy, he’s too young to live without me!”

“They are holding me here too,” Nina admitted. “We have to work together. What’s your name?”

“Ayse.” The voice answered. Nina thought it was a pretty name. “We have to get out of here soon. I heard them talking, they are expecting to have a shoot-out!”

“A shoot-out?” It made sense, this was a rival mafia, and a lot of people had a vendetta against her father. This location could just be here solely to serve for his execution, and by extension hers. She had to remain calm however, her father had raised her to do such. “Ok Ayse, listen to me, here is what I need you to do. Go into the bathtub and make sure to cover your head.” Ayse immediately understood what Nina was getting at based on her quick agreement. Nina whispered into the sink the next part, being just loud enough for Ayse to hear. “I have a gun, if the shoot-out happens, we will both wait until it’s almost over, and I’ll grab you so we can both get out of here.”

Ayse let out a massive breath, Nina could even hear it through the pipes. “Thank you, a lot of bad things have been happening to me lately. You’re the first good person I’ve met. Are we friends?”

Nina smiled for the first time in what felt like an eternity but was probably only half a day. She felt the same way about Ayse. “Yes. We are friends.” Nina wanted to give her a hug, goodness knows they both needed one. Feeling a bit bolder Nina asked a little more loudly. “What’s your boy’s name Ayse?”

Before Nina could get her answer, a bullet flew past her head.

——————————————————————————

Over the course of what was probably only about 20 minutes, but felt like a few hours, Nina lay there. Stuck in that sterile paper-white bathtub, watching so much of her blood leave her body. She was beginning to feel faint and a type of fear she never thought she would feel. This wasn’t the type of fear you get when you are on a rollercoaster or the fear you felt as a child hiding under the covers from imaginary threats. This was the fear of the inevitable. She was afraid of how tired she was getting, if she fell asleep she didn’t know if she’d wake up. She hoped, at the very least, that Ayse was ok.

The screams and the sounds of bullets ricocheting off of the walls had died down considerably, so Nina could listen to quieter sounds. One of which was the door to the bedroom opening, and immediately thereafter the knob to the bathroom being fidgeted with. She shakily held up the gun, her vision was blurry. After a moment, the person on the other side had enough and just shot the damn thing off of its hinges. They opened the door. Nina lowered her gun.

Thankfully, he wasn’t one of Goedelitz's men, but he also wasn’t one of her father’s either. She recognized him. He was the handsome blond man with pasty skin and an often aloof face that frequented the bar she gained intel from. She never got his name or any of the other men he usually associated with. It simply was not her job. She was there to keep an eye on bigger competitors, not whoever he was.

She breathed shallowly. “I’ll shoot.” She couldn’t yell even if she tried. “I-if you come any c-closer, I’ll shoot.” He came closer anyway. Nina couldn’t read his expression. She tried to pull the trigger, but her own blood made it slippery and she fumbled with enough to give him the upper hand. He grabbed her gun and set it aside. Then he, ever so calmly, pulled back the shower curtain.

Nina almost laughed when she saw his shocked expression, but that would just cause her more pain. “I’m pro-bably g-going to die.” She was surprised by how calm she sounded, she was anything but. Black spots appeared all over her already tunneled vision. She wasn’t thinking straight and said something then that she probably would never have said otherwise. All she could think about was Ayse, so she blurted out, and probably blew the poor woman’s cover, “Please make sure Ayse is ok.” before passing out.

@theartifxce

[uebermacht]

Current mental state: Needy Streamer Overload OST

[artvid707]

Did I forget that I had an account? Phshhh no.

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[lazylittledragon]

if i had a nickel for every au spawned from twitter that i SWORE i was going to be normal about

[clown-owo]

been replaying the Portal series I think this is where its heading

[unforth]

Gentle reminder that very little fandom labor is automated, because I think people forget that a lot.

That blog with a tagging system you love? A person curates those tags by hand.

That rec blog with a great organization scheme and pretty graphics? Someone designed and implemented that organization scheme and made those graphics.

That network that posts a cool variety of stuff? People track down all that variety and queue it by hand, and other people made all the individual pieces.

That post with umpteen links to helpful resources, and information about them? Someone gathered those links, researched the sources, wrote up the information about them.

That graphic about fandom statistics? Someone compiled those statistics, analyzed them, organized them, figured out a useful way to convey the information to others, and made the post.

That event that you think looks neat? Someone wrote the rules, created the blogs and Discords, designed the graphics, did their best to promo the event so it'd succeed.

None of this was done automatically. None of it just appears whole out of the internet ether.

I think everyone realizes that fic writing and fanart creation are work, and at least some folks have got it through their heads that gif creation and graphics and moodboards take effort, and meta is usually respected for the effort that goes into it, at least as far as I've seen, but I feel like a lot of people don't really get how much labor goes into curation, too.

If people are creating resources, curating content, organizing the creations of others, gathering information, and doing other fandom activities that aren't necessarily the direct action of creation, they're doing a lot of fandom labor, and it's often largely unrecognized.

Celebrate fan work!

To folks doing this kind of labor: I see you, and I thank you. You are the backbones of our fandoms and I love you.

[acetier]

new hyrule, old friend

((it's been a hot minute, pls have this humble lil totk drawing :'^D))

[cattnipt]

Fucked up looking dog you got there

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

a couple scribbles i cleaned up. also i think i like drawing him in varying states of distress

[uncanny-tranny]

Basically, my philosophy around disability fakers is: I would rather a thousand people fake a disability than have one disabled person suffer without care, aids, compassion, or any help.

[inkskinned]

you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.

(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)

but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.

(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)

there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.

(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)

you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.

(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)

you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.

in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.

but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.

they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.

it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.

[rythyme]

"please tell me the omegaverse show is another joke like the thai goncharov remake" my brother in christ the "goncharov remake" was real too

[gallus-rising]

where the FUCK did Power go

also vague csm spoiler below

glad to finally have the answer to the question “so why does everyone ship Aki w that angel thing instead of the lady who’s clearly in love w him??”