#and I told them it's common sense to ask other people if they're okay with playing music that loud especially in a situation like this

[kindafooey]

Had a bit of a xenophobic moment just now lmao

[alatismeni-theitsa]

https://x.com/CorenLaVolpe/status/1787971755027612092

As much as a Greek enjoyed the Hades game having people literally taking for granted the designs of the gods as legit is problematic.

No Hermes isn't Asian coded. He's Greek like every God. Literally what does the word Greek next to Greek gods mean to them? An accessory? Give me a break

I got a few asks like this, so I will try to answer them here. This is the post the asks are referring to, and this is the post that started the whole discussion afaik:

This is a whole phenomenon that has lasted for decades in the US, first with USians presenting the gods as North Europeans and now as "everything but" North Europeans to combat the previous racist trend. However, they are still completely tone-deaf, self-absorbed, and privileged because while they do this "correction" they're ignoring actual Greeks, and Greek depictions (and depictions of Greek gods in various areas in the past). Westerners might not be aware of this, because they don't know how badly the Greeks have been treated by powerful countries in the past (including their US, thank you for the Junta and our recent fighters' deaths, honey) but the protests about the gods' design are anti-colonialist.

I want you to imagine this trend with whatever pantheon you want from Africa, Asia, South America etc. Imagine that for centuries they are presented as super White North Europeans by certain powerful nations. Now the same nation who did this racist shit in the past comes around and does more racist shit, by NOT presenting these ancient gods as their people view/viewed them but they present them as everything BUT the appearance they had in all their depictions by the locals. All the while NEVER listening to what the people of this culture tell them, all the while comparing the locals to these gods and finding them uglier and savage. Why would this be acceptable? And why are people so comfortable to forget their cultural sensitivities when it comes to Greece?

(I am aware the US racism also expanded to other pantheons but it didn't happen in this exact way so all I'm asking is to walk in our shoes for a bit, to experience a different flavour of colonialism)

This blog stands for absolute equality and it's heavily anti-racist and anti-fascist, with various resources and support links for minorities in Greece. Everyone is welcome here. This blog believes that if you are of Chinese, Pakistani, Nigerian, Roma descent in Greece you must have the same rights as everybody else and the way you look is not "lesser" than anybody else. I just ask people to consider - especially if you are an immigrant - how you, your parents, your grandparents would feel when seeing your important cultural figures treated like this by the US.

As you have understood by now, changing the depiction is not suddenly okay when the Greek gods now have the palest skin with blue eyes and blond hair. No, that's still racist, and Greeks have been repeatedly told that they are lesser for not looking like the beauty ideals these northern countries projected onto our gods.

Asking for accurate god depictions is a matter of wanting your culture to be treated like.... not a prop, for once. Everyone is free to interact and relate with the Greek culture but when you take the Greek culture and its depictions out of the equation, then the whole thing becomes "playing with dolls", and a fandom (as is the case already for the US).

The Greek gods have been used by Westerners in the past to promote White supremacy, and today they are used by Westerners to combat it; but it still happens in the most divorced sense from the Greek culture. USians are still sooo hesitant to REALLY look at another culture that they'd rather lose common sense (aka, depict gods as the locals see them for millennia) than not white-knight for their fellow Westerners. It's actually infuriating that progressives in the US still miss the mark when it comes to combating US neo-colonialism, and whatever elements left in their culture from colonizing European countries.

And how can we tell the Greek gods are used as props in this US political climate? Simple. They themselves will tell you "It's okay to depict those gods however you like because 1. They can transform 2. They have been worshipped by people of different appearances 3. Greeks can have more than one appearance 4. They are not real. " Then, you tell them "Then why don't you depict Chinese, Indian, Nigerian pantheons whoever you like today? These pantheons all have the above four conditions apply. (No. 4 depending on your beliefs)" And when you strip those first layers, they tell you the actual root cause: "But Chinese, Indian and Nigerian people are still oppressed. Plus, non-white people need to see themselves in media, so here is the chance!"

So, they admit that their only guide for how disrespectful they will be to one's heritage figures is actually the oppression status of that minority (just!) in the US. (Which shows they still don't give a shit about Greeks, cause otherwise they'd still know that Greeks still face bigotry in the US for how they look, how their names are, their customs) . To POC in the US: The moment your oppressors believe your oppression is gone, expect your pop culture to forget (again) all respect for your ancient gods and treat them like cool "new" products for their capitalist game.

And the above discussion paints the Greek culture and Greek figures as a culture-less empty slate, that can be made to represent every person in the whole world. It's US culture, even! But Greek culture is hideous actually, and the Greeks are racist brutes who get in our hair the whole time. Fuck the Greek people and their ancestors' depictions. Greek mythology is a product of no culture, actually, and we can treat the gods like self-inserts in our favorite fanfic. And this is totally not a colonialist mindset! Greeks are not robbed and genocided anymore, and we gave them "white" status in our country a few decades ago (but these ethnic hairy people are still not the same as us, obviously!), and the strings we pull to control Greece are not visible anymore to our own people, so we're good 😊

And, just to be clear: Greek gods are ethnically Greek, as every other [insert cultural descriptor] gods are from that certain culture. The Greek people consider themselves literal progeny of those gods. The first Greeks were born of the gods. Even today we call ourselves Hellenes because one of the first Greeks, the man Hellen, who was born of the gods. If the Greek gods don't express Greek cultural norms, and POVs, and ways of thinking about the world, and are not part of Greek history, what the hell are part of?? Cantonese culture? Do they represent Scandinavian ancient values perhaps....? Do they follow the philosophy of a First Nations tribe?? (This is more a matter of culture, not appearance since various people can be part of a culture. However, it needs to be said, because Westerners are willfully blind to common sense at this point.)

See this video from a Greek Canadian on Greek gods being ethnically Greek

To address one last thing: One person said "why didn't you say anything about how the gods were designed in the first game?" Well, I had made a post about it but some told me "noo they didn't change their race, they just have different colors like green, blue, pink, dark brown, and grey for an artistic touch". I was like "whatever, nobody knows, I have a life to live" so I deleted that post and didn't dwell too much on it. But the anti-colonialist message was the same as in this post, so that's another chance to highlight it.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silver Lining 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes

Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

After some correspondence, you agree to an interview. It feels a bit shady but the potential employer agrees to meet in public. Conveniently, you're given the choice and there's no argument to the cafe by the bookstore with its delicious seasonal treats.

You resist the draw of the bookstore as you approach, gripping tight the folder with your printout of the sample you submitted. You enter and think of ordering but figure it might be better to focus on the task at hand. You check your phone as you felt a message buzz only a minute prior.

'In the corner, blue plaid jacket.'

Their message is straight and to the point. You can appreciate that. You lower your phone and look around, blue, blue, blue.

You see a head of silver hair above the plaid collar and near them. You hug the folder, your purse dangling from your elbow as you come to the table. You summon a greeting but it dies on your tongue before you can let it out. Oh no. Your shoulders slump as the man's blue eyes find you, they're a shade brighter than his coat.

"Oh," you let out the single syllable.

"Oh," he grunts and stands. You try not to cower as he does. "You're..."

The timbre of his voice turns your blood cold as he says your name. You cringe and nod. You sway and look through the window.

"I-if you w-want to cancel--"

"Sit," he ignores the suggestion, gesturing to the other chair as he waits.

You obey, too stunned to come up with any resistance. You sit with your back to the window, feeling the cold seeping from the glass. He lowers himself and stares at you. He's equally as speechless as his face creases. Disappointed, just like everyone else.

You push yourself straight. You told Lisa you're going to try. Even if you and this guy got off to a bad start, you've worked with many people you didn't get along with.

"James," you begin, "I-I th-think maybe we g-got to a b-bad start."

"Bucky," he corrects you and looks down at the brown leather folder in front of him, "let's just go over the script."

"U-um, okay, I--"

"Are you alright?" His eyes flick up, "you cold?"

"N-no?" You're taken aback by his concern.

"Nervous?"

You frown. Oh, he's asking about your stammer.

"J-just how I t-talk," you shrug and swallow tightly. You're not ready for this. You're stupid for even trying. "I--" you look around, no, you won't let him scare you away. You might have to put up with him but he also has to put up with you. "I'm g-gonna grab something t-to drink, is that a-alright?"

He nods and sits back. You leave your folder on the table and stand as he opens the folder, his eyes scanning the page. You hesitate before you pass him. Despite his age, he's not entirely repulsive. You imagine when he was younger, he was probably a catch. Maybe less grumpy too.

You join the line and wait your turn. You think of ordering more of the candy cane hot chocolate but opt instead for the toffee latte. Your drink pops up quickly at the pickup and you return to the table, still not ready to face this man.

You sit down again and hug the cup between your hands. You can be normal. It's not about whatever happened before, it's about money. It's about moving on. Lisa says that's most important.

"S-so, I'm open to n-notes--"

"I have a few," he says discerning as he slides a pair of glasses out of his front pocket and unfolds them. He puts them on and you try to ignore the snarky comment needling in your brain, "first of all, you make the argument that the Tiger tank is mistakenly branded as the most effective tank in the Second World War but I'd argue it is. No mistake."

"W-well, you'll see from my argu-m-ment that there i-is no b-best tank. Overall, tank w-warfare was more a l-liability. The discussion isn't w-which is best, it's merely an examination o-of t-tanks in b-battle."

"You know, I have a degree in this. Several. I've studied Tigers, Shermans, Panzers. Your script, it's well-crafted by your evaluation is off."

You blink. Your heart is once more thumping away. You look down at your cup and take a sip from the frothy top.

"I d-disagree. I d-did my research. Every tank had substantial p-pitfalls. E-even the t-tiger. M-maybe better th-than the e-end of the First W-War, b-but still a d-danger in the field. A-Again this isn't t-to say they w-weren't useful--"

"And what background do you have to make these statements? What degrees?"

"I know h-how t-to r-read," you eke out.

"Mmm, oh, you read and drinky cutesy drinks. Got it."

"I-It's coffee."

"Doesn't look like coffee. Smells like pure sugar."

You resist rolling your eyes. You look away. You don't even know if finishing your drink is worth staying. Clearly this isn't going to pan out.

"Th-thank you for meeting w-with me," you say at last, "s-sorry to waste your time."

He lifts his cup and slurps noisily. He lowers it again, the porcelain clinking, "you didn't. You've submitted the most coherent script I've received. I'll send you my notes. Fix it and we'll go from there."

"R-really?" You perk up.

"Sure, why not? I've wasted enough time trying to get this done."

Your cheeks twitch but you don't let yourself smile, "th-thanks."

"Yeah," he grits out and stretches his neck, giving a long look around the cafe. His eyes focus on the door before he faces you again and clicks his tongue, "I'm not that old."

"Wh-what?" You stutter.

"You called me an old man. I'm not." He puffs out and shakes his head, "whatever, doesn't matter."

"Okay, I t-take it back."

"You what?"

"I t-take it b-back," you repeat, "Lisa s-says it's g-good to admit w-when you're wrong a-as much as i-it is to b-be right."

He squints and takes another gulp. "Lisa?" He wonders.

"M-my therapist," you explain.

"Ah," he accepts crisply and sits forward, draining the last of his coffee. "Well," he slips the glasses off, "I'll head out. Got work to do."

You nod as he stands. He buttons up his plaid coat as he looms. You finally get the nerve to look up at him. His brows draw together and he dips his chin again.

"Bye."

The curt farewell allows no response as he twists on his heel. He's halfway to the door before you can react. You stare after him and lean over your cup. The world has a strange way of throwing you curveballs and you're not very good at hitting them.

[badboyfriends]

Hi! So I’ve been into hermitcraft very casually for a while but I never got into fanon territories until now and it has gotten me asking the question of: are the hermits playing characters all the time? Like sure there’s “moon big” but I had never realized until I found hermitshipping and now I’m so confused [it could just be poor comprehension on my part]

It honestly depends on your own perspective of things. I'm a Hermitshpper; in my opinion, they're all playing characters most of the time. Even ones that don't seem like it. For me, Joe is a great example because if you watch his streams you can see how he has a very "recording" voice and a very casual voice. They may occasionally reference things that don't make sense in a character way, but in this medium it doesn't need to.

A great way to think about it is how we draw them. If we're talking about shipping them, usually we're gonna be talking about silly headcanon things that don't even exist, or things that are very exclusive to non-reality. Talking about how Doc purrs because he's a creeper, Joe's an unimaginable horror (now a juppet) fucking calling Scar and Cub a cannibal. We talk about their real people sometimes too, sure, but for the most part there is a line that can be drawn between them and sometimes those lines mesh.

And in case you're wondering, a lot of people who are the common subjects of shipping ARE okay with it. Ren told Doc to "have muh puppies", Doc said he wants to be shipped with Ren because he looks like a good cuddler, Bdubs hasn't said anything negative other than some jokes, and then there's Grian who had been in Minecraft rolepalys previously and dated two characters unrelated to his IRL spouse. and canonically had gay sex, dont worry about that

[thee-ghosty]

Snippet #8

part 2 part 3

Civilian couldn’t have possibly predicted that just 40 minutes after their shift at the local bar, they would be covered in blood, have a random stranger in a mask bleeding out on their couch, and frantically looking up how to stop blood loss. 

They expected today to be just like every other day of their boring life. They passed by one of the alleys on their normal route home when a loud crash stopped them in their tracks. They could have ignored it and not gotten into this mess, but they had a vendetta against common sense, so naturally they had to go see what happened. A few moments later, they were arguing with a stranger, bleeding profusely onto the concrete, about getting them to a hospital. The stranger were adamant that they would be fine, they just needed to get home…which was on the complete other side of town. More bickering ensued before they settled on the current situation; Civilian nursing an almost dead person back to life. 

Civilian’s eyes frantically dragged across the computer screen until an answer popped up. 

“Apply direct pressure on the cut or wound with a clean cloth, tissue, or piece of gauze until bleeding stops. If blood soaks through the material, don't remove it. Put more cloth or gauze on top of it and continue to apply pressure.”

“Okay…okay. I can do this. I got this. Right.” Civilian muttered under their breath.

This was absolutely insane, they knew that and they were a breath away from having a panic attack, but they pressed on nonetheless. They rushed to the bathroom to get towels, some painkillers and a bottle of water before returning to the masked stranger on their couch. Their breath was shallow, but they were still awake. That’s a good sign, right? Civilian questioned. The stranger’s hands still covered over the wound, red slowly dripping through their fingers. 

“You need to move your hands, alright? I gotta cover the wound.” Civilian said with a quiver in their voice.

The stranger slowly shifted their hands away from their side, exposing the extent of the damage. It was a miracle that Civilian hadn't passed out from the sight. They had no idea how deep the wound was, but the amount of blood seeping through the person’s suit and into Civilian’s couch made them wonder how this person was still breathing.

The stranger hissed as Civilian placed the soft towel to their side, hoping they were applying enough pressure. Hell, hoping anything they were doing would actually help. What would they do if the stranger dies? In their apartment no less? 

They pushed the dread from their mind and thought of how they were going to get the blood out of everything. The towels they could wash, but the couch might not be salvageable...Wait. That's not important right now. Focus, Civilian. They mentally told themselves.

“I have some painkillers. Here, let me-”

“Painkillers won’t do shit.” The stranger said through gritted teeth.

"I mean, anything at this point will help. You might feel better if you would just let me take you to a hospital-”

“No.” 

“Why not? You have a problem with doctors or something?” Civilian questioned, frustration slipping into their voice. 

“No, they have a problem with me.” They replied. 

Civilian huffed. On the cusp of death and they're still acting like an ass. Maybe they should’ve left them in that alley after all. Civilian pressed harder, causing the stranger to grunt out in pain. They shot Civilian a fiery look. 

“Oh, did that hurt?” Civilian asked with faux sympathy, “I’m sorry my bedside manner isn’t up to your standards.”

“I didn’t ask for your help, you know. I would’ve been fine.”

“Oh, so I was supposed to leave you there to die? Yeah, no. That wasn’t going to happen.” 

The stranger looked at Civilian with pinched brows. “Why do you care anyway?”

Civilian held their gaze before shifting back to their hands, trying to figure out why they did care. “I guess it’s just human instinct. We don’t like to see people suffer.” 

The stranger scoffed at Civilian’s words. “Yeah, just like humans don’t mind hunting down their own kind for sport.” 

Civilian gave them a quick glance before placing another cloth over the now soaked through towel. “Can you say anything that isn’t angsty? Or is that a part of your ‘character’?” 

“Character?” The stranger asked, sounding almost offended. 

“You know, the mask and the costume. Is that character super edgy or do you talk like this all the time?”

Something stilled in the stranger, their eyes sharpening as they stared at Civilian. “You don’t know who I am, do you?” They asked slowly. 

“No…am I supposed to? I’m not super into comics or anything like that, so I probably wouldn’t know even if you tell me.” Civilian replied nonchalantly. 

“Does the name Venraire sound familiar to you?”

Civilian paused. Venraire was a big crime boss that caused mass destruction to the city a few years ago. Even though he was brought to justice, nothing could’ve made up for all the lives lost to him. Civilian slowly looked to the stranger, their heart thumping louder in their chest. A small smile traced the stranger’s lips, a darkness coming to their eyes. 

“He’s my father."

Oh shit.

To be continued...

[sunsetsandsunshine]

~ You can always ask ~

YAYAYAYAY AFTER PUTTING THIS OFF FOR WEEKS HERE IT IS: MY FIRST TMNT 2012 FIC!!! TAKE THAT WRITERS BLOCK!!! TAKE. THAT. LETS FREAKING GO AAHHHHH I MISS THESE DUMBASS BLORBOS AMNSSJKSLSOSM 💗💞💞💞💕💖💖💖💖

This is a gift to the spectacular @vxlepop!!!

Lee: Leo🐢💙

Ler: Mikey🐢🧡

Summary: Mikey has noticed throughout the week that his oldest brother has been acting…off. Call him paranoid all you want but he just…he just knows something’s up with Leo. And the youngest of the Hamato brothers’ is determined to figure out what’s bothering they’re leader in blue.

Warnings: Tickling and spacing out (just for a tad bit though). If you are uncomfortable that please scroll down- this fanfic is definitely not for you :)

(A/N: T*EST DNI. I WILL ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS PUT THIS AT THE BEGINNING OF MY FICS- I DON'T WANT THOSE PEOPLE GETTING CONFUSED. THEY'RE BROTHERS U DISGUSTING ASSHOLES. UR ABSOLUTELY NASTY IF U SHIP T*EST-! THATS COMMON SENSE!!! GUESS COMMON SENSE ISN’T THAT COMMON, HM?)

——————————————————————————————————

Call Mikey paranoid. 

Call him a worry-wart. 

But his eldest brother, Leonardo, has been acting…off. And it’s been absolutely dreading Mikey inside this whole week to ask his eldest brother what was wrong. Leo’s been quiet, more than he usually is and even that alone is saying a lot. The oldest has been training with his swords non-stop, meditating like crazy and practicing speaking Japanese fluently, and not really talking to Mikey or his brothers, only if it had to do with those topics. 

Which…now that Mikey thinks about it, it does sound like everyday Leo. But he just knows that somethings wrong with the leader in blue…there’s got to be. Maybe Mikey is worrying too much, he is known to turn little things into a big deal after all. But on the other hand, he has been living with his brothers his whole darn life, if anyone would know if something was bothering one of them, he would know! …probably. 

And…now that Mikey thinks about it…

Leo hasn’t watched any Space Hero’s episodes this week…

Yup. Something was up. Mikey knew that for a fact now and you couldn’t tell him otherwise. But the real question is, what can Mikey do about it? Leo was very…closed off about his negative feelings, and didn’t like talking about them at all. Even though it was completely healthy and normal to feel negative emotions; literally every emotion is! His eldest brother told them that several times himself!

And yet, Leo never talks to Mikey or their other brothers about his negative feelings! Tch, what a hypocrite. 

And…maybe this is partially Mikey’s fault as well. Mikey has always falled for Leo’s “older sibling worry™”, but Mikey has never really worried about him that much. Sure, when Leo’s injured during a fight or he sees his brother patch up a bruise from training he asks if he’s okay…but other than that Mikey doesn’t ask him that question often.

But it’s not like Mikey didn’t care enough to ask Leo that! He does! He really does! But the thing is…Leo’s always they’re leader, they’re older brother, they’re protection. Leo’s always been the one that’s just…been there for Mikey and his brothers- ways that even they’re Father can’t compete with and the youngest can’t be anything more but grateful for that.

And…the sad truth is Leo isn’t just they’re leader or protection, under all those labels Leo’s just a kid. An amazing, strong, independent kid who has more on his plate than any other 15 year old should. And it seems Mikey, including everyone else AND Leo, forget that sometimes…

“MICHAELANGELO!” Mikey jumped from off the couch in the living room at the sudden random yell of his name, pulling him out of his thoughts. Mikey grabbed his nunchucks from off the cushion. He began to swing them, looking around the lair in hopes to find whomever called his name. “Who’s there?! How do you know my name?” The youngest turtle demanded, swinging his nunchucks faster and doing complicated tricks with them. 

“Mikey-“ 

Without a second thought Mikey closed his eyes and swung his nunchucks, coming in contact with a figure and them hitting the ground. Mikey opened his eyes and looked around before sighing in relief. A couple seconds after that the youngest heard a groan underneath him and looked down to see his older brother lying face flat. 

“Wait- Raph???” Mikey gasped, immediately dropping his nunchucks to examine his brother that was lying on the floor groaning lightly. “What’re you doing on the floor, bro?” Mikey chuckled, confused and intrigued to hear as to why his brother was currently kissing the lair floor. Raph slowly got up from off the floor; massaging the right side of his head as he glared at the youngest.

“I was comin’ to check up on ya after I finished nappin’, but ya nunchucks just wanted to get to know my head better I guess…” Raph huffed, crossing his arms around his plastron and shaking his head. Mikey stared at Raph confused, his nunchucks wanted to get to know Raph’s head better? 

Wait…

The youngest gasped in horror, going to his older brother and giving him a bone crushing hug. “Oh my god! Raph I’m so sorry! I spaced out and you know how I get when that happens so when I heard someone- apparently you call my name I just I dunno- reacted! I’m so sorry, is your head okay?!” Mikey rambled, releasing Raph from the hug and grabbed his head, shaking and examining him to make sure he wasn’t hurt. He continued to shake Raph’s head up, down, and to the side, making sure there weren't any bruises or cuts anywhere. 

Raph struggled but soon got out of Mikey's surprisingly strong hold on his head. The second oldest turtle sighed and patted Mikey’s shoulder, giving him a genuine smirk. “I’m okay, lil bro. I was just jokin’ with ya, the hit wasn’t even that hard.” Raph chuckled, now sitting on the couch as Mikey followed, sitting next to him.

“Are you sure…?” Mikey asked, fiddling with his fingers and looking up at Raph, guilt very evident on his face. “Positive.” The older replied, wrapping the younger into a side hug as the orange banded turtle fully gave into the hug. After a couple of seconds the two released from they’re embrace. The older went to grab the remote and turn on the TV, putting on some random channel before turning to Mikey.

“What’s got you so freaked out like that anyway?” Raph asked, concern written all over his face. Because, yeah, the nunchucks did hurt, badly. Obviously! I mean- they’re nunchucks. C’mon now. Raph’s a strong guy but he’s not that strong for the hit not to hurt. He just didn’t want Mikey to feel worse than he already did. 

There’s only been a couple of times where Mikey spaces out, completely unaware of anything that’s happening around him that he just…reacts when he’s able to get back to reality…if that makes sense. All those times being when he was around 7 or 8 years old, or sometimes when he’s really stressed about something. So for him to do it right now is a bit worrying… 

Guess old habits die hard. 

“It’s Leo…” Mikey said, looking down. Raph’s eyes widened, starting to  get up from the couch to grab his sai’s that were on a table, which were just a couple steps away. “What- what happened? Is Leo alright?” Raph asked. Did he miss something important while he took a 2 hour Power Nap? What could possibly have happened in the 2 hours he was taking a nap?! …you know what? No. Why would he even wonder that? The universe has a way of making him and his brother’s lives a literal hell in the key span of 24 hours, who’s to say it didn’t max down to 2?

“What-? No! Nonono! Nothing like that! Leo isn’t in danger or anything!” Mikey reassured Raph as he guided him back on the couch. The older glared at him, slapping Mikey in the back of the head causing him to playfully yell. “Don’t scare me like that again, man…” Raph sighed in relief, at least his older brother wasn't hurt. Physically at least… 

“Just…I feel like something’s up with him…y’know?” Mikey sighed. The red banded turtle nodded, letting Mikey know he was listening. “Why don’t you ask him about it then?” Raph asked. “I don’t wanna bother him, though…” Mikey said, slumping on the couch and looking up to the lair’s ceiling, in hopes to find the answer right there. But there was no way it would be that easy…it never is.

“Look. We all know that Leo can be…Leo.” Raph said, wrapping Mikey into another side hug resting his chin on the top of Mikey’s head. “And you know how he can be when we try to get him to talk about his negative feelings; he gets defensive. Which, honestly, I get. It’s hard talking about your negative emotions sometimes.” Raph started, recalling many times where he second-guessed himself to talk to his family about his feelings. 

“But we all have to talk about it eventually, because stuffing those kinds of feelings inside yourself is like stuffing an already full suitcase; one of these days it’ll burst. And you will face the consequences and be left to clean it up.” Raph said, releasing Mikey from his hug and smiling at him. “I’m not the best at this whole big bro lesson thing, but just talk to him, Mike. Just talk to him.” Raph smiled, squeezing Mikey’s shoulder comfortingly. 

The youngest beamed at that,“Thanks Raph! You’re the best!” Mikey cried, squeezing Raph into a hug. The red banded turtle squaked at the sudden contact, patting Mikey’s head comfortingly before both of them let go of each other. Mikey got up and ran to his eldest brother's room. Now 101% determined to figure out what was bothering his eldest bro. I mean, what could go wrong? 

.

.

.

Leo wanted to go up to the surface and jump off the nearest building’s window in hopes he would get absolutely crushed by the upcoming cars of New York City. Which, he knows he shouldn’t say or think…but he really can’t help it right now. 

He’s in a Lee mood, a bad one. And he doesn’t know what to do. Like any normal person, they would go and ask a family member or close friend to tickle them, right? Right. 

But Leo couldn’t do that. 

He just couldn’t. 

It’s not like he doesn’t trust his family enough to ask. But he’s the leader, they’re protection, but most importantly, he’s they’re older brother. And he can’t be asking for such childish things out of his younger brothers. He just wouldn’t. So he would do like he did anytime he got into a Lee mood and just…deal with it until it subsided.

Annnndddd now he’s sulking like a little baby because he can’t just simply deal with it. Wonderful. 

Just…

Wonderful.

The blue banded turtle sighed, flopping on his bed and burying his face in the pillow, letting out an annoyed muffled groan followed by a couple giggles soon after. Whoever designed pillows, Leo would probably want to marry that person right now because if the groan and giggled weren’t muffled from his pillows, his family would have run into his room, asking him a bunch of questions. Which Leo wasn’t in the mood for. Again, he was in the mood for something else…but he wouldn’t ask for it. There was no way.  

Speaking of family, Leo heard a knock at the outside of his door, slightly flinching at the sudden noise. Leo groaned from under his pillow, taking a deep breath, “Who is it?” Leo asked, trying his best to sound at least decent but probably failed. “Hey, Leo!” Mikey greeted, inviting himself into the eldest room, closing the door as he entered. “Hey Mike, what’s up?” Leo asked, getting his head from under the pillow and sitting up on his bed, facing the youngest.

Mikey cleared his throat, going over to Leo’s bed and sitting on the edge of it annddddd oh man. Mikey didn’t plan ahead this far. Mikey sat on the edge of the eldest bed, opening his mouth to say something but quickly closed it. Mikey kept his gaze away from Leo and fiddled with his fingers, trying his best to at least say something but his mouth was not communicating with him at the moment. 

The oldest saw the youngests’ fiddling with his fingers in his lap, Leo’s gaze softened as he got out of the covers and sat next to him on the edge of the bed. “You…do know you can tell me anything, right?” Leo said, putting a hand on Mikey’s shoulder. The youngest looked at Leo, face hardening. No! Nononononono! He wasn’t going to fall for this, not again. Not. Again. 

This isn’t about him right now, it’s about his eldest brother. That’s the whole freaking reason he came here! To ask if he’s okay! Like hell is he going to change the worryness (A/N: Is that even a word? Worryness? Eh. Whatevs) onto him. 

“You should take your own words into consideration, Leo…” Mikey mumbled, turning his face away from Leo, resting his head on both of his palms looking down. Leo looked at him in confusion, sitting closer and pulling him into a hug, resting his chin onto the top of Mikey’s head. The younger leaned into the touch, sighing sadly. 

The two knew each other were upset, and wanted to help anyway they could. All of the Hamato brothers might be different people with different personalities, but one thing through all of them stayed the same…

They were stubborn as hell. 

“What do you mean, little bro?” Leo asked.  The youngest sighed again, resting on Leo’s plastron. “You’ve been kinda…uh I dunno.” Mikey started, “Distant this week?” Mikey said as if he was asking some sort of question, even though that was far from it. He knew his brother was being distant this week.

“Oh…” Leo said flatly, almost as if he was expecting this kind of confrontation about this. Leo figured this would happen sooner or later, just wasn’t expecting it this soon. The two brothers looked at the ground, both not being sure on how to continue the conversation. 

“Just…I dunno…I feel as if you’re avoiding us? You’ve been training more than you usually do, doing a lot of mediation, more than Splinter, and you haven’t even watched any Space Hero episodes!” Mikey listed, finger curling into a fist before releasing in soon after. “I…I just wanted to ask if you’re okay…” Mikey said, starting to tear up about the fact that he realized he has never asked that question to Leo before. 

“Well…I-“ Leo’s face soon turned a shade of red, the blue cladded turtle released from the hug put his face in his left palm, groaning. “I want to tell you Mike, I really really do but it’s just…embarrassing.” Leo said, looking at the ground, still blushing.

“…Did you get a girlfriend?”

“What? No-“

“Boyfriend then?!? HAH. I KNEW YOU WERE GAY! Raph and Don owe me $50 dollars each and a free pizza!” 

“What- why would you- you guys bet if I was-“ Leo pinched the space between his eyes, taking a deep breath. That’s a topic for a different day…

“No, Mikey. I don’t have a significant other.” Leo said, chuckling a bit. Mikey groaned dramatically, flopping on Leo’s bed. “C’mon dude! You can just tell meeee! I promise I won't make fun of you!” Leo sighed and crossed his arms, still looking down.

“Or do I have to tickle the answer out of ya~?” Mikey teased, getting up and starting to wiggling his fingers near Leo’s side as a taunt. Leo started giggling and holding Mikey’s wrists, but not pushing them away at all. 

Wait. 

This seems so freaking familiar…

When Mikey was about to come into the room, he heard Leo giggling and he swore he saw the blue banded lightly poking himself in the side and skittering his fingers along his own stomach…

Why didn’t Mikey figure this out sooner?!

Leo…

Leo was in a Lee mood…

“Wait…that’s it isn’t it?” The youngest turtle said gasping, “You…want me to tickle you, don’t you?” Mikey grinned as he saw his brother turn a red shade that he couldn’t describe. “Don’t say that out loud.” Leo groaned, getting the courage to glare at his little brother. 

Leo looked at his brother before groaning again. “This week I’ve felt…y’know….” Leo said, waving his hands trying to symbolize what he was trying to say because like hell was he going to say the dreaded word…or anything close to it by that matter. Leo began wiggling his fingers lightly before stopping. “That.” Leo said as Mikey listened. 

“But…why didn’t you tell us, Leo? We would have understood and we would’ve been more than happy to tickle you!” Mikey said, stopping wiggling his fingers and relaxing on the end of the bed next to Leo. 

The oldest sighed, a sigh Mikey knew too well.

With being the youngest, Mikey knew the kinds of sighs Leo did and what each of them meant. Sometimes he did a “Please-stop-joking-around” sigh or an “I’m-older-than-you-therefore-you-have-to-listen-to-me-” sigh, but this one was definitely a “You-wouldn’t-understand” sigh. “That’s- That’s not the same Mikey…you all are younger than I am.” 

“…so?”

“So, that means that I can’t get into these weird…funks. It’s childish.” Leo said in a very relaxed tone, as if what he just said wasn’t the absolute dumbest thing Mikey has heard. And that’s saying a lot since the orange banded turtle has heard Donnie talk loads of times, and anything coming out of his immediate older brothers mouth is automatically dumb.

“That’s complete and utter bullshit!” Mikey yelled, getting up from the end of the bed and facing Leo. The oldest flinched slightly at the volume change but continued to look at the floor.

“First, I don’t think you seem to remember, Leo, but we’re quadruplets- dude, we’re the same age. You might be the oldest of us, but not by that much. And secondly, you’re a child too. We’re 15. You don’t have to worry about being childish because you are literally a child!”

“But-“ 

“Is me, Donnie, and Raph asking you to tickle us childish?” Mikey asked, crossing his arms across his plastron, recalling too many times where he and his other older brothers got into Lee moods and asked Leo to tickle them. “No of course not!” Leo interjected, looking at Mikey and getting up from the bed, eyes widened. 

The youngest smiled at the reaction and went back to sit at the end of the bed, anger now gone from before. “So why in the world is you asking one of us to tickle you considered childish, hm?” Leo blushed a bit harder as he kept his gaze at the ground. His little brother actually has a point…which is a first. 

After a couple moments of silence the youngest went to sit next to Leo, happy that his eldest brother could see where his reasoning to “being the oldest therefore asking for affection is bad” made no sense whatsoever. Leo sighed for like the millionth time today, putting his hand over his face and slowly dragging it down. 

“So…if I asked for you to…to uhm, do uh, yeah. Would you…would you do it?” Leo asked timidly, which was something the orange banded turtle really never saw his older brother express. Mikey only chuckled at the older, beaming happily, “Dude, duh. Why do you think I made that epic speech about it being okay for you to ask for tickles?” Mikey said, crossing his arms and nodding his head in confirmation. 

“So…can you…can you do the thing?” Leo asked, blushing again, “If…if you don’t mind-“

“Dude, of course! Literally all you had to do was ask!” Mikey smiled, wrapping Leo into another hug. Mikey then suddenly pushed Leo on the middle of his bed, sitting on top of him before wiggling his fingers over him teasingly. This was also something Mikey didn’t plan out either…the orange banded turtle wasn’t even sure where Leo was ticklish…which made the youngest feel a bit more guilty for not asking him about his Lee mood sooner. But he was gonna find out where his older brother was ticklish, obviously. How hard could it possibly be anyway?

“Just use the code word when you want me to stop, okay?” Mikey said. The oldest firmly nodded as Mikey began to lightly skitter his fingers around his brothers sides; the only spot Mikey knew for a fact Leo was ticklish, recalling too many times where he tased him in the side during training causing the older to stiffen and cover up his sides. Which he was doing right now, actually. 

Leo squinted his eyes shut as he hugged his middles and tried to squirm away from Mikey. The younger laughed at how squirmy the older was suddenly but after a couple seconds he was switching between kneading, scratching, and prodding at Leo’s sides but his older brother's reaction was still the same. And he hasn’t even laughed yet! Not a single giggle!

“C’monnnnn! Laugh already!” Mikey whined as he picked up the pace with his side tickling tactic, moving up and down Leo’s sides. The youngest then moved to tickle Leo’s neck, causing Leo to suddenly squeak at the sudden six fingers on the sides of his neck and burst into a somewhat high-pitched laugh, kicking his legs and holding Mikey’s wrists. 

“PFF-! NoHoHOh! DahaHaHAmmit!” Leo giggled in defeat, cursing himself for not being able to hold in his laughter any longer than a couple seconds. But Mikey happily smiled, finally being able to make his older brother laugh. “Hah! Works every time: never let them know your next move!” 

Leo wholeheartedly glared at Mikey through his laughter as he poked Mikey in the plastron where his lower ribs would be- one of Mikey’s known death spots. The orange banded turtle squealed at the touch, twisting and turning on top of the eldest as Leo continued to tickle him. Oh that little cheater. “HEHEY! Hehey! NohoHOH!” Mikey giggled, wholeheartedly glaring back at Leo who only stuck his tongue out at the younger. 

And here Mikey thought he was the little shit of the family. 

“Oho you are gonna regret that, Leo” Mikey said as he stuffed his hands in Leo’s underarms. The older screeched, kicking his legs on the bed at a faster pace. “OHO MY GAHAHAD- WAHAIT! NAHAT THEHERE!” Leo cried, as he thrashed underneath as his legs kicked along the bedsheets. Leo put his arms down as he still was holding the youngers wrists as he evily evily traced in his underarm.

“MIHIHIKE! MIHIHIKEY PLEHEHEASE!” Leo laughed loudly, blushing a light red because as much as the older one was enjoying this, it was so embarrassing. Mikey was barely tickling Leo, and he was kicking and thrashing like a little kid. But again, he was enjoying this so he won’t complain. 

“That’s what you get for tickling me, bro! I’m the Tickle Monster as of right now and no one tickles the Tickle Monster!” Mikey chuckled at Leo, now beginning to pick up the pace with his tickling at Leo’s underarms. The older whined through his laughter at the change of pace, trying to buck Mikey off of himself but the younger stayed sturdy on Leo’s waist as if it was glue. “IHIHI’M SAHAHAHARRY! Leo yelled. 

The younger one laughed at Leo’s reaction to the new pace, deciding to turn it up a notch as he kneaded the sides of Leo’s underarms causing him to do a girly-like shriek and descend into mad-like cackles. “And here I thought the underarms were Raphie’s death spot!” Mikey said teasingly, “You’re literally squirming like a fish out of water!” The orange banded turtle taunted as the older face only reddened more at the teases. 

“SHUHUT IHIHIT-! MIHIHIKEY GEHET OHOUT OHOFF THEHERE PLEHEASE!” Leo belly laughed as Mikey only chuckled at the older’s hysteric pleas. “Ihi can’t dude! My hands are completely stuck!” Mikey laughed. If Leo wasn’t laughing his shell off he would have rolled his eyes at that comment, but he can’t. “NAHAHAO THEHEY AHAHAREN’T!” Leo yelled.

“Yehes they are! It seems your amazing incredible strength is keeping my hands here~!” Mikey laughed brightly, completely loving this situation. If you know Mikey you know for a fact that he loves making his brothers laugh, especially Leo, who out of all the turtle brothers laughed the most. So this situation was like pure heaven for Mikey. 

Mikey then easily moved his hands out of Leo’s underarms, shaking his hands out before cracking them a bit for dramatic effect. Ugh! Leo knew Mikey could have gotten his hands out anytime he wanted! He just wanted to be an evil little gremlin! Amazing incredible strength my ass. Mikey then held up Leo’s left as he used his other hand to tickle the olders stomach.

And if Leo was yelling earlier, then he was completely screaming up a storm now. Leo hit his free hand at Mikey’s hand, trying to cease Mikey’s cruel attack but when he was close to removing his hand, the younger would suddenly move to a different spot on his stomach, tickling worse where he was in the other spot. 

“Awwww, Leo! I’ve never gotten to see you laugh like this, dude! Your laugh is so cute!” Mikey cooed, as Leo’s face turned a deep crimson at the compliment. The older shook his head back and forth, trying to stop the tickling sensation but decided to just give up and accept it as he falled limp on the bed and laughed to his hearts content. “AHAHA NAHAHO! NAHAT THE THEHERE!” Leo laughed louder, tears beginning to prick out of his eyes. “MIHIHIKE *snort* PLEHEHEHEHEASE!”

Mikey immediately stopped tickling Leo, putting his hands to his own chest in alarm at the noise. The blue cladded turtles’ face slowly began to turn a light crimson again, but now his face was a shade of dark red no one would be able to describe. 

Leo covered his face completely with his hands, groaning the completely embarrassing noise he just made. The youngest of the twos’ startled look soon morphed into an evil smile, crossing his arms over his plastron in amusement. 

There’s no freaking way…

“Oho my gohohod…did you just snort?” Mikey asked cheekily. “Noho ihi dihihidn’t…” Leo lied, almost regretting even asking for Mikey to tickle him…almost. “Dude you totally did! Do it again!” Mikey said as he suddenly dipped his head into Leo’s stomach, blowing a huge loud raspberry causing the older to completely lose his mind in snorts and squeals. “AHA! PLEHEHEASE! MIHIHIKE! *snort* IHIHI’M GOHOHONNA DIHIHIE!” Leo cried, still not fighting back but his legs kicking around all behind Mikey only causing the younger to giggle. 

“Raph and Don are gonna get a kick out of this~!” The orange banded turtle said into Leo’s tummy, blowing raspberry upon raspberry not even stopping to give the older one a breather. He wanted to make Leo have a fun time but this was also revenge in some way as well.

“Y’know, your upper body has been getting a lot of attention. Let’s see how ticklish your lower body is, big bro.” Mikey smiled, turning around to Leo’s lower body which caused him to start slapping the back of Mikey’s shell, trying to forcefully push him off. 

“EEEAHAHA! NAHAO *snort* DOHOHON’T!” Leo isn’t even sure why he’s screaming bloody murder right now, he doesn’t even know if his lower body is ticklish! But based on the past couple of minutes it wouldn’t be too high of an estimation to say his lower body was just as ticklish. 

Mikey poked the middle of Leo’s thigh, causing Leo to let out a glass shattering shriek as Mikey only smiled at the reaction. “Leheeo whahat was thahat?” Mikey amusingly asked. Leo, too embarrassed to even respond just groaned and waved his hand for Mikey to go on with it, knowing there was no stopping his little brother now. 

Mikey began to mercilessly squeeze, prod, and knead Leo’s thighs, even sneaking behind his knees and giving them a little pokes before going back to the thighs. Leo was in utter hysterics, not being able to stop Mikey and was forced to kick his legs and uselessly hit the back of his shell.

But obviously none of those tactics works as the younger happily tickles the sh*t out of his thighs. “NOOHOHO NAHAHAH! NAHA- *snort* MIHI- *snort* STAHAP!” Leo wasn’t even able to form a single sentence before going into loud cackles once again. 

“OKAHAHAY! OKAHA- *snort* MEHEHERCY *snort* MIHIKAHAHEEY!” Leo cried, finally having enough. The younger sighed but got off his anyways, letting the older take a breather as he sat next to him. “This isn’t over, dude. I still have to tickle some other spots y’know.” Mikey said as he poked Leo on the stomach causing him to let out a soft snort before he poked Mikey back on the side. “Whatehehever…” Leo breathlessly giggled, scared but…honestly excited this wouldn’t be the last time he’d be able to mess around with his brother like this. 

“Ahand thahanks, Mihihikey…I appreciate thihis” Leo smiled at Mikey. Now looking back, Leo doesn’t know why he was so afraid to tell his brother what was making him so upset. They’re brothers. They’re family. And like Mikey said before: Leo is a kid. He’s allowed to mess and play around with his brothers. So what if he's the leader? He’s a kid too. And it’s time Leo started realizing that. 

“Any time bro, literally anytime!” Mikey chirped. After a couple moments of silence a lightbulb went off in Mikey’s head as he slowly turned his head to the oldest grinning like a fool. “Y’know what I just realized?” Mikey said, leaning on a pillow on the board of the bed. “Whahat?”

“You can’t say Leo without the Lee, get it? Lee-o?” Mikey joked, nudging Leo in the side, his eyebrows raising up and down comically. Leo rolled his eyes wholeheartedly, playfully shoving Mikey’s face away giggling still; due to the aftermath tickles and Mikey’s funny joke. “Ihi gehehet ihit yohou dohork…” 

“Just something I thought I’d share.” Mikey shrugged, smiling. Leo rolled his eyes again, now adjusting his place on the bed so he sat next to Mikey. The younger rested his head on Leo’s shoulder as the older leaned in to the touch. “Well thanks for sharing…” Leo muttered. The two sat in comfortable silence for a while, Leo’s giggles now subsisted as the two just enjoyed each other company. 

“We heard screaming, are you two okay!?” Raph asked as he slammed Leo’s door completely open causing the oldest and youngest to fall flat on the floor due to the sudden noise and force. Raph gave out a tiny “oops” before getting out of the doorway to let Donnie in who was following him earlier.  

Mikey and Leo both exchanged glances before bursting out laughing. The two middle children looked at each other than back at the oldest and youngest complete confusion. “I’m gonna take those hysterics as a ‘yes we are completely fine”?” Donnie asked as him and Raph helped the both of them up so all the turtle brothers were standing. “Yeah, we’re okay.” Leo confirmed as Donnie and Raph relaxed at the olders confirmation.

“Oh! Which reminds me…” Mikey grinned, looking back at his older brother with a Cheshire grin before turning to his two other siblings. Raph and Donnie looked at each other again before looking at Mikey. The two middle children were so so confused as to what was happening as of right now but figured it would be best not to ask any questions. “Raph, Don, I have a little secret about our eldest brother-“

“Mikey-“ 

“And I’m sure this secret will…how should I put it? Tickle your funny bone...”

——————————————————————————————————

HUZZAH. FINISHING ONE OF MY WIPS- I FEEL SO ACCOMPLISHED U GUYSSSS I HOPE U ALL ENJOYED THIS ONE IT WAS SM FUN TO WRITE

[fractiflos]

Hey so, if your still doing the prompts thingy can I ask about so hcs about Banjo, En, and Hikage trying to cook together, please? (Emphasis on trying)

To make sense of the timeline, let's say this is a normal au. Hikage and Banjo are the same age while En is a year younger. And they're teens.

En had never cooked anything before being the youngest of six and figures he could ask his senpai for help. Hikage just happens to be there so En invites him too. He wants to cook a surprise dinner for his family while they're out since it's his parent's wedding anniversary, but they're too busy to do anything. The two agree to help him and they get started, with only four hours until his family comes out.

Technically, Hikage and Banjo do have cooking experience, but not the kind needed for this. Hikage is experienced in roasting stuff over an open fire, but other than that, has never cooked. And Banjo always burns everything, so he's always been told to just do things that don't require high temperatures, like salads. But with all the ingredients and a set of instructions, they can't be that bad.

They can be that bad. None of them know how to use the oven so they put the meat in and turn it up all the way, hoping for the best as they chop vegetables. En's knife technique is so wobbly he accidentally cuts himself and smoke starts pouring out of the oven and the smoke detectors go off. Luckily, En knows what to do with smoke being a common thing in the Tayutai house and they start opening windows and grabbing a fan.

The meat is ruined, but they still have the rice... Oh, they were so focused on the meat they forgot about the rice and that burned too. Okay, they still have the vegetables and ingredients for a nice cake. En's hand clearly needs stitches but he insists on finishing the meal. Banjo got a burn that most people would want a professional to look at, but he was going to finish that meal if it was the last thing he did. Meanwhile, Hikage was begging them to go to the hospital.

The vegetable dishes actually turned out nicely, so it was time for the cake with two hours left on the clock. Putting the ingredients together actually turned out well and they put it in the oven. Unfortunately, they still don't know how to use it and the oven burst into flames, which was Hikage's breaking point. He called the fire department and an ambulance, then dragged the two outside.

En faked being sick so he could have time to make dinner while the rest of his family was out, so his parents were pretty mad that he lied and destroyed their kitchen. The fire wasn't too bad but they do need a new oven. En and Banjo were fine but they got into a lot of trouble. Hikage too, but not as much since his parents were proud that he called for help when he needed it and was only grounded for 4 weeks while En and Banjo got six.

As I wrote I realized this could be a chapter in Tiny Tots. I might write it since I've been wanting a chapter that focuses on these three.

[slytherheign]

WORTH THE RISK | tasm!peter parker

PART 1/5 OF WORTH: THE SERIES.

PAIRING: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.3k

SUMMARY: there's a new threat in town and spider-man has found himself falling for his roommate. after what happened with gwen, he must decide if it's worth the risk yet again.

WARNINGS: depictions of death, depression, grieving, cursing, and canon-typical injuries. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: 17+]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: some characters may be ooc. there are a lot of flashbacks-current time switching. you can criticize my writing, but please be nice.

DESTINATION: Angst Avenue | GO TO SERIES MASTERLIST or GO BACK TO THE STATION.

There was trouble looming around town. Peter Parker felt it. He felt it by the way the hair on his body stood up. He felt it by the way the nerves in his body alerted him. He felt it by the way the wind changed its demeanor as he swung through his beloved New York City.

Aside from the common thefts committed by robbers and the fights brought upon by different gangs, crimes in New York City were almost quiet to him. For a couple of years, there was no big threat that needed Spider-Man’s help.

As the friendly neighborhood hero, of course, he still offered his assistance but the police assured him that they can handle them on their own. He appreciated the thought but his love for the city weighed more than the thought of a much-needed rest. He did not like what the police had insisted. Him not saving New York City? Nope. Not gonna happen. Never.

He could still remember the conversation clearly.

"It's not gonna happen. I'm gonna help you," he told them. To which an officer named Carlos replied: "As much as we appreciate you and your assistance, please let us do our job. The people now trust you more than us, which makes a lot of sense because you have saved so many of us, but our reputation for being able of saving them has got to be back on track."

"So what, you don't want me anymore? You know you can't stop me from helping people, right?"

The middle-aged police nodded. "But you gotta understand, Spidey, what's happening now is that the people call you for help first instead of us. If you keep responding to those calls, there may not be a job left for us anymore. Who are we going to save if you already saved them first?"

Peter understood, as he always did. But the mere thought of not doing anything for the city—his city—got him feeling uneasy.

"But–" he started to reason with him but another officer, this time a red-haired british woman named Charlene, raised her hand to stop him from talking any further.

"How about this..." Charlene started. "In the meantime, put your suit down and rest from all of this crime-fighting stuff and let us handle it. And then when there comes a big threat that needs your help, the first thing we'll do is call you."

Carlos agreed, nodding as he went beside Charlene to hold her hand. So they're a married couple, Peter thought.

"Well, can I at least do a little saving and patrol the city every once in a while?" he asked.

The police couple looked at each other before looking back at him. "Fine," Carlos replied. "We can work with that," Charlene continued.

Peter smiled. "Okay cool. We have a deal then."

It has been two years and what Peter has named the "big threat, big help" call has not been made. Which he thought should be a good thing, right? Because it would mean that his beloved city was safe from being destroyed any sooner.

However, as he currently swung through the city for what he deemed was just a little night patrol, something was off and he knew it. He wasn't even finished patrolling the entire city. There were still a lot of places he has not yet checked tonight. He smelled trouble and the ringing from his phone with the police's name as the caller confirmed it.

He stopped at a rooftop of a random building before he answered. "What's going on?" he asked.

"We need your help," Carlos stated, his latino accent laced with fear. "There's been reports of multiple houses being broken into for the past 15 minutes. 1 person has already died and 6 are badly injured and on their way to the hospital. Given the short amount of time and the fact that the houses are beside each other, we believe they all have the same culprit."

"Do you know what this person looks like?"

"The victims are too traumatized to speak, we couldn't get any information out of them. We're now looking at the city cameras–holy shit."

"What?"

"This isn't just a normal person, Spidey. He's green and he looks like a scorpion."

Peter knew he should think about the injured people.

Peter knew he should think about the poor person who has unfortunately died.

Peter knew he should think about the green scorpion-looking criminal.

But the first person he thought about, was you.

The past couple of years for Peter were eventful, to say the least.

After all, after Gwen's tragic death, nothing was the same anymore.

Was it a bad thing or a good thing? Maybe both? He didn't know.

First was the sleepless nights. Every single time he would close his eyes, images of Gwen free falling to her demise plagued his thoughts. It terrified him—how Gwen's eyes reflected acceptance as she looked at him for the last time. Even in her last moments, she understood... and she accepted. It scared him how she embraced death like a long-lost family member.

Peter knew Gwen didn't want him to blame himself. But he couldn't help it, could he? He was given these abilities... to help people, to heal people, to save people... and yet he couldn't save the person he treasured the most. He couldn't save her.

And even then, at the moments where rest finally found its way to his eyes and body, it would be tormented with nightmares. Rest, for him, was never an option.

Second was the loss of interest. Things that brought him joy before and hobbies that he used to enjoy, he didn't care about them anymore. He was simply uninterested.

Sure, Aunt May had been there for him every step of the way, but even she cannot bring him back to feel anymore. He appreciated his aunt for even trying.

Now came the third and hardest part. As if the pain he was in wasn't enough for the gods above to take pity on him—two months after Gwen's demise, Aunt May passed away.

Peter felt horrible. His last two months with her were him being unresponsive. Aunt May had reached out for him but he didn't meet her halfway. She tried so hard to help him, and in some ways she did, but he was too caught up in his own hurt and pain that it did not occur to him that she was also hurting for her nephew. For him.

Now instead of visiting a grave, he had to visit two.

He was in ruins. Everyone he loved the most was gone and he was left to himself. He had no faith. No hope. No everything. None.

Until you came.

He was visiting Gwen for her first death anniversary. Peter couldn't believe it—one whole year since he lost her. Where did time even go?

It was just like the usual, he would sit in front of her grave, talking to her as if she was still living. He would update her on what was happening in his life—a common thing he would do to his aunt's grave as well.

That was when he heard you loudly sniffing from behind his back. Initially, he planned to ignore it to give you some privacy. But the sniffing got louder and your breathing got even slower. He decided to cut his conversation short with Gwen's tombstone, he could do that any other day. You clearly needed comfort, and while he was not obliged to give it to you, something inside him screamed that he should. He sat up from his position and made his way to you.

What he saw was a heartbreaking sight. You sat across the stone, arms desperately clinging to your knees for comfort. You were aware of the new presence beside you, but you couldn't stop crying. It was all just too much. You had just lost your father last year, and now just a month ago, you lost your mother too. You had no siblings or pets, and your friends were on the other side of the world, too busy to visit or even check up on you. You were alone.

Peter crouched down beside you, trying to meet your eyes. And when he finally did, his heart shattered into pieces. You caught his gaze. "I–I'm sorry–" you sniffed. "It's umm... it's my mom's birthday," you pointed at the tombstone in front of you. "Sh–she died a month ago."

That was it. Your broken voice pulled a string in his heart that made him soft for you. He didn't know what gave him the courage, but he sat down from his position beside you and hugged you tightly.

You were surprised at first but appreciated the comfort. The last time someone hugged you was by your mother on her death bed. For the last month, you lasted on your own. No human interactions except the little greetings you exchanged with the people you passed on the street and the people at work. There were only four places your world consisted of: your house, your workplace, the cemetery, and the grocery store.

You clung to his body as if your life depended on it, and maybe in some ways, it actually did. "It's going to be okay," he whispered. "We're gonna get through this together."

We. Together.

Funny how you just met this man and he cared more for you than the people you called your friends. There was something about him that radiated comfort and protection. You knew you should be embarrassed by yourself, you were a broken mess. You probably looked crazy with your hair all tangled and your face streaked with tears that you were sure just messed up his jacket. But you didn't care, you needed him. And unbeknownst to both of you, he needed you just the same.

That night ended with Peter bringing you to his favorite coffee shop. He treated your coffee as you talked about your life and he talked about his.

You learned that it was his past girlfriend who he was visiting at the cemetery. He told you that it was her first death anniversary to which you replied: "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," he raised the palm of his hand playfully. "It's not like you killed her or anything." he joked.

You laughed with him before moving on to a new topic. You told him about your parents, how your father died from a car crash years ago and how your mother died because of cancer. Was it too early to tell him the heaviest life issues you mostly kept to yourself? You didn't know. But you were at ease when you were in his presence. Maybe that's why you couldn't stop talking the moment he started the conversation.

He told you about his aunt as well. Who died so suddenly after merely two months of his girlfriend's passing. You were so easy to talk to. He almost told you everything about him. Almost. There was a reason why he left out the reason behind Gwen's death—you didn't need to know about the double life he's living. So he left out everything that related to the web-slinging hero.

You were so caught up with each other that it didn't even occur to both of you that two hours have passed until a staff went to your table to inform you that the shop was closing.

You and Peter left the shop afterwards. He insisted to walk you home since it was pretty late at night and he knew just how the night wasn't safe for people, especially for women. You agreed, mentioning that the house was actually your family's but since your parents had died, it was all yours now.

"We're here," you informed him. "So... uh–" you looked down as you played with your fingers. Peter looked at you the entire time.

You met his eyes. "Thank you. For everything. I–I hope this isn't the last time we'll see each other."

"Of course," he smiled.

You hugged him. How the hell did that even happen? You had no idea. You practically just ran to his arms and hugged him. Peter didn't mind though. And if he was being honest, he enjoyed hugging you as well. "See you soon," he added. He didn't leave until you were inside and waved at him from the window.

Maybe this is why the world brought the two of you together. Two broken people who needed healing, ready to heal each other.

His visits became a weekly thing. Every Saturday, he would visit you and you would go to his—and now your own as well—favorite coffee shop. One time you mentioned that you were thinking of moving to a new apartment, the memories that came with your family house were becoming too much to bear. You needed time away from it in order to fully move on. Besides, it was getting lonely. Having a roommate would also be nice. When he asked you what would happen to your house, you told him that you would still visit it once in a while to clean and maintain it.

Peter, like the absolute genius that he was, had an idea.

"What if you move in with me?" he mused.

Your eyes widened by the sudden offer. You looked at him as he stared at you waiting for your answer.

"Be roommates with me?" he asked once again.

You thought hard about the idea.

Peter needed a new start and you needed company. This was shooting two birds with one stone. There was no need for choosing. The choice was already obvious.

You smirked, putting your hand out for him to shake. "Deal."

Before Peter took his way to the police station, he made sure to swing by the apartment the two of you shared to check on you.

You were on the couch sleeping while The Notebook was paused on the television. Tonight was movie night. A tradition you both made to follow every Thursday. An hour ago, he was just cuddling you while watching the film. It was peaceful...

Until he sensed something off.

He couldn't just leave you there, but he also couldn't ignore the nagging trouble he was sensing.

He had to at least swing by the city and check.

He didn't know what to do.

He had to find an excuse, and he had to do it quick.

Luckily, you did it for him.

"You know, for some reason, I'm really craving for some donuts right now," you blurted out.

Peter immediately agreed. "You know what? Let me buy some. I promise I'll be back before you know it," he stood up quickly. "And hey–" he jokingly pointed a finger. "Don't you dare finish the movie without me."

"Noted," you chuckled, grabbing the remote and pausing the film.

He went back to his bedroom to get his backpack before leaving the apartment, smiling as he closed the door.

You had no idea what he needed his backpack for when he was just going to buy some donuts, but you paid it no mind. He probably just wasn't used to getting out without the bag on his back.

Peter, clad in his Spider-Man suit, observed you from afar.

You looked so peaceful in contrast to the chaos that was currently happening outside. And even in moments of deep slumber, you still looked so beautiful.

He realized you fell asleep waiting on him.

He had promised to be back soon. Yet another promise he had to break.

He felt guilty, but it must be done.

There was no time, Peter reminded himself. And so he continued his way to the police station with one thing on his mind.

He needed to protect you.

"Oh thank God, you're here," Charlene breathed in relief. "Here–look at this," she gestured for him to follow her into the room where the city cameras resided. She pointed at one of the screens. "This is what he looks like."

"Do we know where he is now? I could swing through the city and find him." Peter insisted.

"No, we need you here," she replied.

"No offense, but I don't think I should be in here right now. He could still be out there."

"That's the thing–he's gone," Charlene admitted. She nodded at Carlos who just entered the room.

"What?"

"We already sent all our teams. They say he's gone."

"It's like he just disappeared," Carlos commented.

Peter thought hard about what was happening. "No," he gritted his teeth. "He wanted attention. My attention. And he wreaked havoc just to get it."

"But why?" Carlos asked.

Charlene answered for him. "To create chaos. Come to think of it, for the last two years, there was no big threat to the city. Even Spider-Man..." she glanced at Peter. "Laid low."

Peter agreed. "Some people hate the quiet. And they would do everything to bring back the noise and destruction again."

"What will we do now?" Charlene looked at him, waiting for an order as more officers came into the room.

"I'll do patrols as I always do, but this time every day and night. You check the cameras at all times and install some more around the city. Continue sending your teams to patrol as well. Inform the medical facilities—tell them to prepare for a possible surge of injured people. Don't lack on communication, inform and update each other, and..."

Peter looked around the people in the room. "If you see anything suspicious, you know how to call me."

Peter left without another word. The situation was more dangerous than he thought and he planned to get to you as fast as possible. He made a promise to himself that he will keep you safe no matter what it takes.

He found himself knocking on your shared apartment’s window. He saw you slowly stand up from the couch, lazily wiping the sleep off of yourself.

You were confused for a moment, wondering who could be knocking at your apartment at this time—it was coming from the window too.

Surprised would be an understatement for your reaction when you opened up the curtains and saw the Spider-Man in your window. With wide eyes and an open mouth you had to close, you opened the window and let the hero inside.

"Wha—" you stuttered.

"Watch the news," he ordered.

You were confused but nonetheless followed his order. He sounded serious. And when Spider-Man was giving you orders in your living room, you gotta follow them.

"Just an hour ago, a green scorpion-looking identity was reported breaking into multiple houses causing a casualty and 6 badly injured people. We have no report as to where he is right now but the police and Spider-Man are currently in the process of capturing the criminal. Be careful out there, and wish our protectors luck," the reporter informed.

You were fully awake at this point. Not knowing what to do, you looked over the hero who was already looking at you.

Suddenly, you remembered Peter. Surely, it wouldn't take that long to buy some donuts? He was not yet back. And with a killer on the loose, you were getting more worried each passing second.

"Oh god, m-my friend–he's still out there," you started shaking and pacing.

"Peter," Spider-Man replied. You immediately stopped pacing and looked at him so fast you thought it would break your neck. "You know him? Peter?" you asked with hope.

He noticed the worry that hugged your face. He wanted to hug you, tell you that he's Peter and that he loves you when he remembered a promise he made.

To protect you.

Two graves were enough.

Trouble was attached to him. Wherever he went, it followed him.

No matter what it takes.

It was now or never.

So he did what he thought was best to protect you.

"Peter Parker is dead."

He pretended he was dead.

[shsl-heck]

So because I've seen it compared to Worm, I started reading The Boys by Garth Ennis. It's bad! Like really bad! It feels like what would happen if you let an edgy anti-feminist atheist youtuber from 2015 write a comic book. I finished the first volume of the omnibus in large part because it was a train wreck I couldn't look away from, and am debating starting the second since I hate myself. The most interesting parts are actually the little forewords. Through them I learned both that it was supposed to be a comedy, and also a critique of the military industrial complex/police (or at least that people read it as one). This was surprising to me since it is neither funny nor incisive. Anyway, now I want to ramble incoherently about my problems with it because this goddamn comic broke my brain.

Okay, so one of the most common ways it shows you which characters you aren't supposed to like is by having them do comically "gross" sex stuff. Notable examples include cocaine fueled orgies, mentions of shitting during sex, bestiality, masturbating in public to the sight of disabled people, and a little person using sex toys. One that shows up repeatedly in this context is characters being bisexual or gay. Now, I don't wanna get controversial, but I think any claims that your work is a critique of capitalism, police, the military, or whatever are rendered moot when your villains are a group of secret hedonistic sex-freaks. Like we can't pretend that doesn't sound a lot like regressives and their obsession with "degeneracy". Sexual assaults, misogyny, and slurs also appear pretty often, mostly as the punch line for jokes. Victims are rendered down into objects and denied any sense of interiority so we can instead focus on what really matters (gore porn, and middle school 4chan posters' sense of humor). Never once does Ennis deign to explore the actual impact and trauma of these things, or ask why he views these things as material for jokes.

That incuriosity is I think the real problem with The Boys. There is no actual coherent thought about why things are bad. Superheroes hurt people and are wrong because of their personal moral failings as selfish perverts, not because their whole job is to violently enforce the will of the state. It's like if someone agreed that all cops are bastards, but only because all cops just so happened to be "bad apples". The main characters literally work for the fucking CIA, and yes, I know the titular Boys are at best meant to be anti-heroes a la the Punisher. My issue here isn't that they're hypocrites who are frequently also horrible. It's that this premise for is absolute nonsense if you think for half a second. Superheroes do not function without the legitimacy granted to them by the state and it's monopoly on violence, so why would the CIA need these 5 randos with zero oversight working to take out the supers? Is the force Homelander and the others can bring to bear so great that even the apparatus of that state can't deal with them? If so, why does this group of assholes change that? Normally I'd be willing to give the story a lot more of a pass when it comes to questions like this, except I'm being told that this story has things to say about systemic problems involving the government and corporations! So I have to ask, where? Where is the commentary? What does it actually have to say about the state of the world circa 2006-2012? The only answer I can come up with is "not a whole lot". It's a story which dares to ask the tough questions like "what if the world was made of pudding" and then ignore answering those questions so it can instead recite Ellis' favorite slurs in alphabetical order while showing you a woman's tits.

On a lighter note, it's also just not very good. The plot (as mentioned) falls apart under any amount of scrutiny, pacing is bizarre in a bad way, the characters aren't compelling, themes remains stubbornly unexplored, and Ellis is allergic to doing anything interesting or creative with the premise he's decided to base a whole comic around. I genuinely do not know what people enjoy(ed) about this comic.

[teekays]

Davo for the character ask thing please!

this one took me so long because i have THINGS to SAY. i have cried in an airport over connor mcdavid. lets begin

First impression

i will be so real when i first got into hockey i totally fell for the like... this guy is the BEST agenda. mostly because i think i noticed that the praise he got was SO strong and i wanted to know what made him so good as opposed to other guys but i also noticed he got a lot of hate for being boring and i was like... they're all boring. why do we hate him for being boring specifically? and that led me on a quest to tease out The Connor Mcdavid Story

Impression now

i'm a mcdefender sorry. i know!! he's the most interesting guy in the world actually. like he IS boring but that is so clearly a purposeful obfuscation of whatever else he's got going on there that he developed because of course you're not going to just have your heart out there in the open as a first overall who's been hyped up for years as the Next One placed on a flop team in a flop city... it's also interesting to have seen that kind of relax a little bit in recent years and i think that relaxing is directly parallel to him becoming a little less like. black and white in his thinking which he very much was for a long time. like he's someone with a very strong sense of right and wrong and very strong ideas about How Things Should Be Done and as that has loosened up (because that's not conducive to like, being alive yknow) and as he's gotten more secure in his position he's gotten a little more willing to put himself out there which is fun. the morals thing does come out sometimes tho in that he will speak up if he feels like he needs to in the name of fairness. also i find his like, earnestness and the ways he's different than the nepo babies of the hockey world to be deeply charming even when they suck. like he's a shill grinding for his money but he's honest about it and i have to respect it. make your terrible millions and have a zero tolerance policy for being irreverent and Too Cool for the media while doing it. go white boy go

Favorite moment

sitting on mitch's lap in the everglades was a foundational babygirlism but also. right after the draft i don't remember who it was but little baby connor freshly in that oilers jersey was like "why are you ripping him to shreds rn he literally just got drafted" it makes my heart break into a million pieces i feel like when spongebob lost gary. because that's sooo... it's not him anymore really. but it will always be him and who he was.

Idea for a story

my sick and twisted mind has been percolating Mccareer ending injury for so long because i would like to see him freed from the shackles of hockey and having to build a life outside of what that means to him. who is connor mcdavid? find out next week when he escapes to a beach for a week and hates it

Unpopular opinion

say it with me now. estrogen could fix him! but also once again i think he is much less miserable than people want to think and if he is then it's justified. he lives in edmonton. you'd be sad too. also i covered this but he's actually a little freak and not boring at all if you know how to look at him!!!

Favorite relationship

i'm a mcstrome warrior til i die hashtag Your dead best friend is walking up the stairs hashtag I ain't a kid no more we'll never be those kids again. that being said i think also him and leon should get married. and another thing this may be also an unpopular opinion BUT i am actually so obsessed w ambitious girlboss lauren kyle and the way she so clearly runs their whole lives and he's so deeply okay with that... i think a common hockey boy trait is kind of always wanting to be told what to do because that's what you've done your whole life but to see someone quietly own it that way is so fun to me. i think she should lean into it and be like the tweet that's like "if two guys were in love with me i would manipulate them into doing gay shit together"/"if i had two boyfriends i'd dress them up like twins" with connor and leon and like leon is there for connor's benefit but she makes him think it's her idea so as not to upset the delicate balance. yknow?

Favorite headcanon

this is also from what we've seen mostly based in fact but he's absolutely dogshit at other sports. like. some guys are athletes and other guys are hockey players and he is absolutely a hockey player to his core. hilarious

[motivationlessmaniacexhausted]

HEADCANONS ON PHILLIP GRAVES n John Price/Phillip Graves Ship :) [Scroll down if you're not interested and believe me when I say this post are just rambles with un-understandable sentence]

I know not all people like Phillip Graves from cod, don't even talk about shipping John Price with Graves

Like, when I first saw him, I was like "Sonovabich how dare you betray the 141 >:("

But like, after learning and seeing his personality (and reading my first Price/Graves fanfic), I realized that Price would be the right one for him :3 Tee Hee~

(I am unable to find them right words cuz my brain no worky worky rn but hear me out)

Hate me all you want but like, Price's calm, collected and gentlemen personality leveled Graves's broad, confident personality.

I don't think Graves as a person who's proud of themselves like "I am superior than you, I can do much better than you that you felt bad >:)" but rather, I see him as someone who's very independent, very confident of the choices he make, won't stutter even if he knew his opinions are wrong. (I bet he told others he could take down 10-20 people by himself in which I quite doubted) He's probably even more intelligent than what he looks like [I mean if he wasn't he wouldn't be the leader of the Shadow Company]

When I first saw him, something about him just screams leader material like loyalty, heavily caring when it comes to their teammates, precise planning and rarely wrong when comes to decisions

Other than that, they both quite have the same thing in common like they both lead a team/group/whatever it is called ~cuz my brain don't work rn~

Plus, they both(probably Graves) took care of their people well. Like when they're under attack and some of Shadows are injured, he'll probably checked on them by himself one by one like asking are they okay or if they need something else and such. I think Phillip would take the Shadows as his family, as his children[like how I think Price would with the tf 141]

It is quite sad to see that he betrayed the good for the bad :( but the plot must go on

Regarding the ship, other than leveled personality, I think they're suitable to comfort each other (like hurt/comfort but no hurt). I know that makes doesn't make hell of any senses but like, when one of them are having a bad and such they would both comfort each other, understood the things they're going thru as a leader(at least that's what I think).

Price sweet-talked Graves, maybe give him a squeeze on the hand and tell him that he has done more than enough or such; Graves would stood up and loudly give Price a pep talk when he's not fulfilled with his missions, probably messed up some small things while planning.

I just think they're suitable for each other y'know, I've never had a stronger urge to write about a character and giving away my headcanon to others in the fandom than this.

I just think Graves picked the wrong side and misunderstood not sure about this part :|

Anyway thanks for coming to my 'Ted talk' about Phillip Graves :3 and the John Price/Phillip Graves Ship, I pour this out from my heart with the last 2 and a half braincells I have so it's quite wacky and the points are not that good :(

Bye :)

Bravo six, going dark

[by-kilian]

hey kw! i saw you were doing an ask game so here i am! i hope you’re doing well and life is treating you good. i still need to catch up on STH i’m slackinggggg but life is beating my ass. trust i’ll do it soon i actually have some time off coming up so i’ll be in your dms crying about levi and kilian look forward to that 😫😂 OKAY now for the game i chose 🌻💎🎀! i’m looking forward to your answers!

Hi my heart! You know you're welcome in my inbox anytime, it does NOT have to be when I have an ask game circulating 🥺❤️❤️. I am doing much better and life is being a lot kinder to me now, but I am so sorry to hear it's been hard for you. As for STH, don't even worry about catching up. Like I told a friend today, you still have your own life to live! The story will be there when you're ready for it. Plus with how long I take to write these days, that is doubly true LMFAO.

I'll answer your questions under the cut meanwhile, and thank you for entertaining it!

🌻 What makes you want to give up on writing? What makes you keep going?

This is a really good question. I think the only thing that makes me want to give up on writing lately is lack of genuine community and interaction. I don't mean this way other people may typically mean it either. I think you all know how I feel about comments, kudos, likes, reblogs, etc.--they're lovely but they are bonuses to me in regards to writing. I don't need those things to stay motivated and I will never tell readers how they need to interact with my stories, nor will I ever demand that they do XYZ in order for their love to be valid.

However, I have noticed recently that everybody's interactions with fics has dipped down within the last year, not just on tumblr but on AO3 too. A lot of people just like things and move on and that's it and nothing else. You're always tossing your works out into the ether when you write and post, but it doesn't necessarily feel great to see people sifting through your works and clearly liking them but they never drop a thanks or mention anything else about the work otherwise. It kind of makes you feel like a content machine and you're like "oh, okay, thank you! 🧍🏻‍♀️" to nothing or no one in particular because you don't get anything else from that kind of interaction.

This isn't fandom specific either, it's across the board. I think fandom/fanfic landscape and how people interact within fandoms across the board has changed a lot because people do not commune anymore. We all got into this because we share a common interest, but these days everyone just kind of keeps to themselves and I truly wish we all wore our hearts on our sleeves a bit more. I get both sides of it! But fandoms are about community, and community means nothing if we're all isolated. It used to be a lot more of a give and take between readers and authors where people could thoughtfully engage in conversations, and these days I don't really see that as much as before. I'm sure there are various (many very valid) reasons as to why, but I think what I'm saying is I miss the sense of community. It's no one's fault either so I don't want to make it seem like I'm blaming anyone in particular. I think it's just the way things are these days because fandom culture itself has changed and it makes me a bit sad is all. It's definitely one of the reasons why I often think about and talk about retiring from writing.

But on a positive note, what does keep me going is my personal love for writing, and then moments like this, no Kelly Clarkson! When I recognize frequent names and realize there are some readers who I've spoken to for years that are still speaking to me now, it brings me a lot of joy. Those connections are so lovely, and I value it a lot. ❤️ Those two things are what keeps me going.

💎 Why is writing important to you?

Writing is important to me because I love the art of writing. I love everything about literature and telling stories. I think there is such a beauty to it. Everyone has a story to tell and be told. That is why it's important to me.

🎀 Give yourself a compliment about your own writing

I'm really good at creating memorable, immersive moments that you take with you even when you're done with the story.

On an end note, I really am sending you all my love and hoping things look up for you soon. Lots of love and hugs. Thanks so much for being you, always! :3

[bastetwastaken]

So you know how I said I could write a whole fic based on an idea @artofnovagenesis gave me? Then I said "Oh but I don't really have time to do that so maybe I won't" Well...I might be doing anyway cause really, what is self preservation and common sense? They're just words.

So I'm writing more trash for these two lovely Monarch boys and their amazing life as husbands in the woods <3<3

.......................

“You, um, have a lovely home.” Atem said, eyes trailing over the full bookshelf again. He’d been trying for idle conversation for a while now as they drank the wine Yami had poured for them but it seemed his host wasn’t as talkative as he’d hoped he would be. 

Yami didn’t respond so he turned his attention back to him only to find the other smiling softly at him, leaning against the table with his head propped up on a hand. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

“Mhm.” Yami nodded and sat up a little straighter, still smiling at him. “You’re just… really interesting to me.” 

“Oh?” The words made him feel warm inside and filled his stomach with butterflies. Briefly he wondered if he should be entertaining these feelings with a total stranger… but then he decided he really didn’t care. “Thank you?” 

“See.” Yami said with a laugh, leaning back in the chair he was occupying and looking back at him. “Any other person from the town would sooner have run a mile than spoken to me…well, actually, no one from the town would have ever found this place to begin with.” 

“I’ll consider myself special then.” He said with a small shrug, he might not be entirely sure what Yami was trying to say, but he hoped that it was intended to be a compliment. 

“You are.” Yami told him seriously, leaning forward again and leaning against the table. Did this man ever sit still? “Did you know your parents?” 

Atem frowned at the sudden question, looking down into his cup of wine and shaking his head. 

“Not really.” He said. “I was raised by my mothers family.” 

Yami hummed thoughtfully then sighed. 

“I’m sorry…” Yami said softly. “I don’t get many visitors and I don’t talk to people often. I didn’t mean to upset you…” 

“No.” He looked up and smiled at Yami. “You didn’t, but why do you ask?” 

“Do you know much about the woodland clans?” Yami asked him in return. 

“Only rumours I’ve heard around town.” He said honestly, looking back down at his cup. Something about Yamis eyes made it hard to look at him for a long time. “Some people think you’re dangerous, some think you possess magic which can hurt people.” 

“What about you?” Yami asked. 

Atem looked up again and jumped back a little when he realised Yami had slid over to the bench he was sitting on and was now much closer to him than he had been before. 

“Um…what?” He asked quietly, caught again by those knowing eyes. 

“What do you think?” Yami asked, a sad edge to his voice as he looked down at the table between them. “Do you think I’m dangerous?”

.............................

Wanna read the fic I wrote already about these two? Click here also I'm gonna put the lovely art @puzzl-d did for these two here too cause you should all see it:

[fierceawakening]

2/? It seems like most of the female people I know these days are nonbinary; if engaging with them the way they prefer stopped taking mental effort to walk on eggshells that would be better for everyone. As it is, I just... I feel like I'm staring at the naked Emperor, and if I breathe one word of his nakedness in the wrong situation I'll get excommunicated from the "queer" community. And when I do manage to find someone to talk to in private, they either agree that yes [CONT'D]

That's fair! It took me a long time to figure out what I thought nonbinary was, and longer than that to consider whether applying it to me made sense. I can tell you what this process is/was like for me, if it's helpful.

I knew since I was very young that I was Different from Other Girls. I had a similar body (albeit a disabled one), and my understanding was that people with that body are called "girls" and referred to with "she," so I never really went through a period of thinking these didn't apply to me.

I also did not go through thinking I was a boy.

What I did go through? Was wondering a lot of the time if I "should've been" or "was supposed to be" a boy.

I tried to talk myself out of these feelings, as adults of both genders I knew about kept telling me "girls can do anything."

But the one thing they DIDN'T seem to consider a part of "anything" was "have penetrative sex as the top," and they certainly didn't explain to me that there are ways "Female" "shes" can do this, or that some people like it.

So I resigned myself to the idea that I was a girl, that there's no "should have been" it made any sense to feel, and that it just meant that where most people grew up to want to have sex, I would grow up to NOT want to have sex, because I'd always have to do it wrong.

That, or I would reach this "puberty" thing people kept talking about, and everything I was wondering about would magically invert and I'd become Correct and stop asking myself this stuff.

Now it could have been I was just a butch lesbian, but again... I didn't have context for what that was! I knew, vaguely, that some girls date girls and some boys date boys and it's less common but valid, and I did kind of wonder if that would make it better, and told a few people I thought I'd be a lesbian, as it was the only thing I could make parse at all.

When it became clear in my adolescence that I crushed hard on girls but ALSO (a bit less intensely but it was definitely there too) on boys, this was a bit of a scary revelation. And do what with them? How? I wanted SOMETHING, but I couldn't tell what that was unless, again, I imagined myself in a male body, whether topping a female or a male or some imaginary combination. (Yes, please.)

I knew "FTM transsexuals" existed, but I didn't know that I was one of those. I talked to them, and made friends with many, and am still glad to be friends with many (hi guys, love you!) but... they seemed to really like not just the idea of their bodies becoming less alien to them, but the idea of BEING BOYS. Which seemed to me like, okay, I'd have the right body for sex and that would be lovely, but then the rest of the time I'd have a body that wasn't at all like a girl, when "girl" was what I was... mostly... except for this... THING.... oh god I'm so weird, I'm just a freak.

Fast forward to college. I took a gender studies course, trying to figure out what the fuck was up with me (and made the disastrous assumption "gender therapy" meant you tell a mental health professional that you suspect you might be trans, and they gently and without judgment talked you through what your life might be like if you transitioned vs if you didn't, and helped you to come to an authentic decision and then supported you in it. All I got was "do you hate your period? No? Then you're cis. Bye.")

A really fucked up thing happened. I now think of it as, well, really fucked up. But there was a section in our textbook talking about sex differences and what they were, and why they're not the same thing as gender differences, and in it was a photo of the naked body of a person with CAH--a masculinized female body, including bottom growth.

I now feel very weird I ever saw that, and apologize profusely to whoever that was that someone took photos of her(?) body.

But I had a lightbulb moment. My mind went, "if that was my body, I wouldn't feel weird any more."

Which led me to: okay, I DO have sex dysphoria. I wasn't making that up or parroting words I'd heard trans guys say or something. But I didn't have it quite in the way that they had it. I had it in a way that felt like "I belong somewhere in the middle. I'd be happiest like that, but am afraid I'd be bashed if I was like that and openly so."

Why do I have this feeling? I do not know. I just know that when I pretend it isn't there because it's weird and silly, it doesn't go away. I just feel like the same person I was a moment ago, just now I'm weird and silly.

Some butches seem to describe similar feelings. I lurked in those communities a lot and still do sometimes. But I wasn't a lesbian, I was bisexual. People seemed to be very weird about caring a lot about that bit, so I didn't dare delurk.

But it did seem to me that the gay community was actually *much* more about people who felt weird in their bodies or gender role than "gay people just like people with the same body" described.

Now do I know for sure testosterone would help? No, as I haven't tried it--but I do know that the feeling I am calling dysphoria intensifies horribly if I take any birth control pill stronger than the weakest on the market, which seems to confirm to me that there's a level of estrogen that feels wrong, and leads me to want to find out if a higher level of testosterone would feel "right."

(If it didn't? I'd toss it.)

What frightened me all my life was that people never seemed to talk much about in-between feelings. if you confessed to them you were proving you were cis. and if they were sexual? Hoo boy, you're just messed up.

Now people talk about feeling like being in the middle much more openly, and they call that non-binary. So... why not use that word? Especially when there isn't this weird "did you ever enjoy sexual contact with someone who was male? Or were you going through fundamentally unpleasant motions in every way all the time?"

Which I can't answer as "because I felt uncomfortable in my body and role, it was all completely awful." I did feel off and weird, but I didn't completely lack enjoyment, and I certainly enjoyed seeing my partner's pleasure and knowing that being with me caused that.

So there you go.

[superpeanutgarden]

Night Blogging

okay, *technically* I'm not using the term right. It's an old phrase from before we called it Shitposting- we blamed all the weird stuff on sleep deprivation and Australians lmao

But it's night, and I'm blogging, so here we are.

so if you've read my other long posts, you'll know I'm in multiple open polyamorous relationships... and that I'm having what one might call "a hoe phase" and an accompanying crisis about if I still have worth if I'm a slut.

Well now im having a whole different (but still slut-adjacent) crisis. Do I even know what romance is????

This didnt come out of nowhere. My girlfriend mentioned that I was dating around as though I was single several months ago. And today she- wisely- brought up that i am at risk of girl bossing too close to the sun. and I had already been thinking about how my sibling had said that our parents didnt really model romance for us, and that we were told that romantic love is just kissing your best friend. And to be clear: I TOTALLY am. I'm not lonely or touch starved or sad or maidenless (or lad-less) in any sense of the imagination.

So... why am I still pursuing people??

The tree i can understand. He's a fun fuck, and he travels the renfaire circuit so I wont see him all the time. No chance of a solid relationship, just a fun easy breezy fling.

The lookout? Similar thing. Super fun to make out with and fine as HELL, but he lives like three hours away and doesnt seem interested in going steady. I can work with that

Max is PolySaturared and we just make out when I'm over for house parties, which isnt as often as I'd like but I'm desperately trying not to have too much of a crush on him (or his wife... or his girlfriend... or his other partner) so it's fine (jesus, maybe I'm not Ace, maybe I am just autistic)

Theres my good ex and my middle school bestie, but they're hella busy and our schedules havent really lined up. Disappointing, but acceptable.

The thing these people have in common is that they are almost entirely unavailable for me to date!! Until literally a month ago I was under the impression that I was just chasing the dopamine of New relationship Energy with ethically renewable sources and I could get my cozy domestic stability from my lovely girlfriends and partner...

And then trumpet guy and I made out at one of Max's house parties.... and Then I went on two dates with The Goblin King after making out with him and the Tree at the same time on NYE. And like??? It's so weird to say that I dont think either of them are stupid hot???? (But only one of the three people I'm dating is Stupid Hot, so there is precedent but?) It feels kinda weird and disingenuous to want to spend more time with these people who I'm not crushing on

And yet im Quickly falling head over clown shoes for trumpet guy. He's cute and fun and he asked me out on a date to dress way fancy and get sushi and go see a musical and???? I had just been telling a classmate that I didnt feel like I had been properly romanced since high school and?????? While I'm an impatient slut, it feels nice to be pursued.

The goblin king is really fucking sweet, and he's got really nice hair, but I'll wait to try talking myself out of liking him until after our next date... (too late, cant unthink that. I'll bring it up in person. He's really cool and I do want to still be his friend, but we both live with parents who would NOT get it so that kinda makes it hard to have solo couple time... or any couple time. It's not like I have to make a choice anytime soon but the dude deserves to know that I'm not sure if there's anything for us beyond friendship and the occasional kiss. Heck, we've only made out the one time and not even just us.)

Anyway, what's tumblr for other than an online diary??

[frostedej]

RANT: It's going to be a long post.

I need to rant and I can't rant on Facebook cuz everyone just tells me this that and the other thing about things that I cannot simply switch on and off.

For example: My ability to be a cashier in any way shape and or form is non-existent. My brain does not retain any of the processes of checking out customers, that are necessary to be a cashier. It is very frustrating because most of the available jobs in my city has to do with a cash register.

My next complaint, is that if you ask me something but you're actually trying to ask me something totally different I am not going to understand that, I'm going to answer the question you asked me I'm not going to answer the question you didn't ask me.

It is not my fault that you do not have the common sense to ask me what you actually want to ask me.

Next complaint:

I often cannot figure out what I am feeling.

More often than not I would tell you it's fine, or it was fine, or it was okay. When in reality I have no idea how things went. I don't know if I reacted the way I was supposed to, I don't know if I reacted to other people's reactions the way I was supposed to, I don't know if you're upset with me about some obscure thing until you say something.

If you are aggressively doing something I will end up thinking your angry with me about something, and I will have no idea what it is and if I do suspect what I know it is I will probably ask about it very cautiously.

Because I don't know how you're going to react, because when I ask stupid questions or what people think are stupid questions people get really angry at me for not knowing something.

If you're the kind of person who constantly seems angry or looks angry I'm going to be very very very nervous around you.

I don't deal with people who are angry with me very well.

I often have no idea how to react properly to them in order to stop the anger, and it frustrates me.

All of this frustrates me. It makes me very frustrated and angry with myself, whether it's my fault or not, because I constantly feel like I should be able to figure these things out on my own without help because I've always been told to just do this or that or the other thing and it will be fine.

I've always been told to just calm down when I'm having a panic attack or anxiety over getting a shot or an IV put in.

Telling someone with any form of PTSD or anxiety to just calm down only makes it worse. It is not something that we can just fix by flipping a switch.

It is something that we deal with everyday, some people have it worse than me, and are still able to get through their day and do things but I am not able to, some people do not deal with things as bad as I do and still are not able to do the things.

This frustrates us all, this frustrates me.

When people tell us to just do it, just calm down, just get over it...they're just making it worse.

I want to do the task, I want to do the thing, I want to get it over and done with, so I don't have to do it later, or have it pile up. I want to get my clothes taken care of. I want my dishes done.

Getting the thing done and getting the energy and motivation to get it done, are very different things, and having depression and sleep issues and whatever there issues other people have, make it worse and harder to get things done.

There are so many other reasons, that I have, to be ranting about this sort of thing. And I really need to talk to my therapist about it, but I'm about to switch therapists after my next appointment. So here it is I'm laying it out here and will be talking to the new one probably sometime next month or this month. 🙃