#better to face the bullets

[mozart-the-meerkitten]

me: I can’t read things the way I used to, I can barely read a chapter at a time, I used to be able to read a whole 500+ page book in a day :/

also me: *reads 15 chapters of a fanfic I love in a couple hours*

[morskisir]

maybe i'll make a proper drawing out of this one day.........one day

[dykedvonte]

There is something uniquely kind and disturbing that Benny and the Khans ambushed the Courier and brought them to a cemetery to be killed.

It's an unmarked shallow grave. They would've died with no name and no one to come to look for them, not a thought in anyone's head expect and afterthought for their killer. But in that, they are still laid to rest. No one they know will visit them but their grave will be visited, maintained at least by the townspeople of Goodsprings. Unresolved but not forgotten.

Benny did not choose the cemetery out of kindness, it was pragmatic as people are likely to not mess with a grave in a town like Goodsprings, fresh or not.

After all... It's rude to disturb the dead, though, what does that mean if they were never truly made to rest?

[kainagant]

what makes me kinda eyebrow raise about how overhaul is clearly portrayed as a one dimensional villain is the way that when his followers respect and care for him because he saved them when they were at their lowest points it's compared to "brainwashing", but when the league respect and care for shigaraki its described as "being a hero for the villains". like okay lmao. i see the double standard.

[bitternace]

how about ... 14! and either xion or namine ... or both even

you find shelter somewhere in me, i find real comfort in you

[ID: a digital drawing of xion and naminé from kingdom hearts. the background is mostly transparent, with a purple splatter with straight edges and three white lines on the lower half, which they seem to be sitting on.

they are beside each other in mirrored poses, inner legs slightly behind the other. naminé's eyes are closed and her shoulders are tense. xion's mouth is slightly open and her only visible eye stares down at the middle, where their hands are intertwined. /End ID.]

[subsequentibis]

oh i wanted longlegs to be so much weirder than it was. it needed like three more script revisions and some deeper interrogation of the genre it sprang from, and someone to gently take the sound designer's hand on the volume dial and turn it down juuuuust a bit. i need the actual movie to be what scares me, not someone dropping a hammer on the piano to tell me i ought to be scared.

[jacksprostate]

So what advice WOULD you have for people who might suspect themselves to be autistic, especially those who can’t get an official diagnosis? /gen

Yeah sure, under the cut!

My philosophy focuses around problem solving and improving circumstances rather than focusing on getting or following the path of a diagnosis. So the first thing I recommend if you feel you're struggling, is start actually writing down things you struggle with. Big or small. And then for each, start making a plan on how to mitigate or remove your struggles. Obviously, easier said than done. Lord knows it takes a lot of time, effort, and discipline. However, the biggest thing, is keeping a mindset where it is: you have struggles with x. But this is not a permanent thing, this is something you can work on. You may not be as naturally adept as some people, but this is a challenge and you can face it and improve how it affects your life. This is something that has to be done whether you follow the whole diagnosis route or not, because it's the requirement for living, lol.

I will give an example from my own life.

Firstly, I have always very much struggled with food intake. Eating is something of a chore to me, a lot of food is repulsive (less so than before, thankfully), cooking is a lot of energy. Eating healthily is even more of an issue since you have to make and eat so much more of less calorically dense foods. Over the past 4 years, I've improved a lot though, though it has been trying at times. First, I catelogued my issues. My biggest issue is due to eating little, I wasn't getting enough calories, and I was always tired and weak. I was often sleepy, struggled to concentrate. I was on the verge of being underweight but considered not — yet, I had pretty life impacting symptoms. It was actually thought that I had more severe problems due to all the deficiencies I had. So, the first thing I did was seek out high calorie food that I could use to at least increase my energy. Preferably avoiding outright junk food, but basically, I started routinely trying to eat a meal with lots of carbs once a day. As my energy slowly increased, I started trying to fit in healthier snacks and whatnot, but ultimately (even now!) my goal, 100% is just making sure I get enough calories that I'm not tired tomorrow. It was difficult, especially since my appetite was so surpressed hunger didn't really come back until like 6 months in. Nowadays I do get hundry but still find it unfortunately easy to ignore, though I'm a lot better with it. Anyway, focused on high calorie foods. Once I had more energy, I worked on *cooking* high calorie meals. Literally, just like pasta. Noodles with poor man's pesto (garlic, basil, parm, salt). Ramen. I still eat that like once a day lol. My new challenge is shifting that a bit but it's a work in progress. Anyway, while I regressed some sometimes, I started regularly cooking a very very low effort meal once a day, and eating smth that made sure I had energy for the next day. A lot of my symptoms improved even though my diet was still essentially shit. Then, I also worked on taking a multivitamin. I am very bad at sticking with medications so frankly this is still on and off for me, but I'm planning on incorporating it into my morning routine before work and that should help. I did do this consistently for a while, and this helped. All this happened over 2-3 years. If I ever ate out, I made sure to get something with meat and vegetables since I knew I wasn't getting it at home. Now, my most recent success is I've started managing to meal prep and bring lucnhes to work. I do really simple air fryer chicken and rice/couscous, or fried rice (good for veggies). So far I've managed to consistently bring food, which is a goal I've never dreamed I'd be able to manage on my own! Super awesome. I also found 'drinking' my meals is easier sometimes, so I found smoothie mixes I can tolerate that have more nutritious things. And I do that sometimes. Anyway, I'm finally at the point where the struggle is less eating, and now more expanding my consistent cooking and making myself a better diet. But that is SIGNIFICANT success compared to where I was originally, when I wasn't cooking and I was barely eating and it was physically impacting my life in a way that made it much harder to claw my way out of. But, despite it taking a long time and having a lot of backsliding, I was able to significantly improve.

This sort of thing can be applied to mental health stuff, social stuff, etc. Basically, identify your issues, identify solutions — long term goals but also specific short term steps that will get you there. And then keep trying. Even when you fail. Even when you give up for a long while. Even when it feels like it isn't working. Keep trying. And eventually you'll have made progress even without realizing.

I also applied something similar to trying to work out how to socialize well. Which may be applicable for you. The best thing you can do in my experience is watch people, be confident, and try to pay attention and learn how to interpret people's comfort levels and what's common casual topics of conversation and what's not. Yes, it's hard, and it's usually not intuitive, and that's a big part of why you may feel you are autistic, because this seems entirely foreign in a way it's not to other people. But it is a skill you can learn. At this point, I can hold a conversation with my coworkers, even if we don't have much in common or if we have differing opinions or whatnot, I can have a good lunch conversation and come off as 'intense, but nice'. Which is a good thing to aim for. Like with the eating, I recommend a lot of reflection and efforts to catelogue and identify areas of struggle and how you can observe and practice improvement. The more you do all this, the more it will genuinely become less manual and more automatic, like driving a car. There's a lot you think about when you first start driving, that you aren't consciously thinking about 5 years later. It's the same way. And also, try not to take your fuckups too personally. And some people just won't like you. It is what it is. Just keep chugging.

I know, it is easy to sit here and be like "why should I have to figure out and stick with common topics of conversation? I'm not into those :/" Lord knows, I always felt dumb and out of place whenever people bonded over sports. But what these common topics are, their purpose is essentially like a little olive branch, a thing the person is offering to try and make it easier to chat by commiserating over a common thing, whether it's a issue, a thing yall like, or something else. I'll probably never manage to follow sports teams and I don't want to, but I will nod along as some guys talk and commiserate when they express feelings about wins or losses. The point is to bond. That's why the weather is such a huge topic. Small talk serves a huge purpose! The more you become familiar with how to casually hold a conversation with someone you don't know well over one of these topics, the easier it'll be, and most social stuff develops from that sort of thing. As you bond over the olive branch topics, you can flesh out anecdotes and experiences and personal stuff as you become better friends with people, rather than throwing it all at someone at once and hoping they catch and like you. It lets you sort of get a feel for people, and you can keep it at the small talk level instead of just not talking at all or immediately proceeding to best friends mode. It's a comfortable middle.

I also really recommend, for anyone, engaging and developing a fondness for the world around you, and practicing having appreciation for everything. It has helped my mindset and capability to keep trying. I really recommend learning to identify some category of things in nature in your area, because you'll feel more grounded in the world, you'll see more detail, and the world will feel less threatening.

[sharkzippo]

thinking about the new x-factor again because i was just reminded how pyro and cecilia reyes have met before, when she saved his life back in the 80s. and since pyro is on this “redeemed” streak, i hope at some point they bring up how he repaid her by lying to her face, taking advantage of her empathy and betraying her without a second thought, which resulted in her getting fired from her job and giving in to joining the x-men ( which eventually came with it’s own terrible consequences, as it always does ). basically i just want pyro’s redemption to not feel as hollow as it does. i think that could be fun.

[brionysea]

realises that some key characters have never been shown in mike's basement and my brain breaks

[bright-and-burning]

stuck trying to figure out if i should orphan my first ever published fic or smthn bc of c*dy k* allegations... like is that fic very Good exactly? no. not even a little. is it still my first ever fic on ao3? yeah...

[mozart-the-meerkitten]

Time for another obscure character comparison post! This time through excerpts from each story.

Connecting thread: a sad, traumatized man who just wants to go home to his family and thinks he’s a coward but is just out there doing insanely brave things like rescuing girls from crazy people who are trying to kill them.

           Suddenly, Slarb’s growl was cut short. Trembling, Leeli opened her eyes and saw the Fang’s claws clutching desperately at an arm locked tight around his throat.            She couldn’t see the person’s face, only a tuft of white hair sticking up from behind Slarb’s shoulder- but the arm around Slarb’s throat had a dirty knitted sock pulled up to the elbow.            Slarb’s black eyes wheeled in their sockets as he scratched and dug into the socked arm, but it did no good. The arm held firm. Slarb staggered backward and turned away from Leeli, revealing lanky Peet the Sock Man, who was either brave enough or foolish enough (and maybe both) to attack a Fang barehanded, or sock-handed, as it turned out.            Peet’s eyes were squeezed shut as he hung on desperately to the thrashing Fang. Slarb’s teeth were bared and oozing with yellowish venom, but his movements were slowing down.            Leeli began to hope that just maybe she would live to see her family and Nugget again. Peet was grunting, straining to keep his grip on the twisting beast; though blood was soaking the sock where Slarb’s claws were digging into Peet’s forearm, he showed no sign of pain.            Slarb spun around, so fast that Peet’s feet flew out behind him. The Fang lurched this way and that, his tail whipping the underbrush. Finally he fell first to one knee and then to the ground, unconscious.            Peet lay on top of Slarb, gasping for air. After a moment, he loosened his grip and carefully slid his arm out from under the creature’s neck. When Peet saw Leeli, he relaxed and stood up, brushing himself off as if embarrassed Leeli was still crouched down in the brush at the edge of the trees, looking warily at her rescuer.            “Thank you,” she said timidly. “That was very brave.”

-The Wingfeather Saga book one: On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness by Andrew Peterson (tv show based on the book coming December 2nd!)

 *

           “Well how about it?” inquired Dustfinger, taking a step back. “Do you dare come in here with me, or would you rather go on hitting little girls?”            Basta stood there motionless, like a child whose ears have been suddenly and unexpectedly boxed. Then he seized Meggie’s arm and dragged her toward him. She felt something cold on her throat. She didn’t have to see it to know what it was. Her mother screamed and pulled at Dustfinger’s hand but he only held it higher in the air. “I knew it!” he said. “What a coward you are, Basta! You’d rather put a knife to a child’s throat than venture in here. Of course if Flatnose were here to back you up, too, with his broad back and his great fat fists- but he isn’t. Come along, you’re the one with the knife! I’ve got nothing but my hands, and you know how I hate to misuse them for fighting.”            Meggie felt Basta’s grip relax. The blade was no longer pressing into her skin. She swallowed and put a hand to her throat. She almost expected to feel warm blood, but there was none. Basta pushed her away so hard that she stumbled and fell on the damp, cold floor. Then he put his hand into his pants pocket and brought out a bunch of keys. He was panting with rage like a man who had run too far and too fast. Fingers trembling, he put the key into the lock of the cell. Dustfinger watched him, his face impassive. He gestured to Meggie’s mother to step back from the grating and retreated himself, nimble as a dancer. You couldn’t tell from his scarred face whether he was afraid or not, but the scars looked darker than usual.            “What’s that for?” he said, when Basta came into the cell and held out his knife. “You might as well put it away. If you kill me you’ll spoil Capricorn’s fun. He won’t forgive you for that in a hurry.”            Yes he was afraid. Meggie could hear it in his voice. The words were spilling out of his mouth a little too fast.            “Who said anything about killing?” growled Basta as he closed the cell door behind him.            Dustfinger retreated as far as the stone coffin. “Am you were thinking of adding a few more decorations to my face?” he was almost whispering. There was something else in his voice now- hatred, scorn, rage. “Don’t expect it to be so easy this time,” he said softly. “I’ve learned a few useful tricks since then.”

…

           “I’ll cut your filthy fingers off if you try to touch me!” yelled Basta, his face red with rage. “Every one of them, and your tongue into the bargain.” He lunged with the knife again, cutting through the air with the bright blade, but Dustfinger avoided it. He was leaping around Basta faster and faster, ducking, retreating, advancing, but suddenly he found that his fearless dance had trapped him. He had only the bare wall behind him now, and the grating cutting off his retreat to the right- and Basta was coming straight at him.            At that moment Meggie’s mother raised her hand. The stone hit Basta on the head. Astonished, he spun around, looked at her as if trying to remember who she was, and put his hand to his bleeding face. She never knew how Dustfinger did it, but suddenly he had Basta’s knife in his hand. Basta was staring at its familiar blade in amazement, as if he couldn’t grasp the fact that the faithless thing was pointing at his own chest.

-Inkheart, by Cornelia Funke

 *

Tillman had knocked the white ironstone bowl off his tray, shattering it on the tile next to him. “I told you!” he yelled, swinging his feet off the bed, and kicked at the shards to make room to stand. “I said they were here!”

Belle wasn’t sure whether the bowl being sent to the floor was purposeful or an accident, but it had to be cleared up either way, before he cut his feet on it. “Stay right where you are,” she said. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I don’t take orders from your kind,” Tillman said, fixing her with that severe look again.

Turning back to Captain Gold, she sighed, giving him a smile. “I’ll be right back - I’m going to clean up before he and Gardner can start something over it.”

Belle took the tray from the end of the bed and sat it on the floor so that she could place the broken pieces on it. Tillman squatted down next to her, apparently having snapped out of it and deciding to help. “Thank you,” she said. “Be careful, don’t cut yourself.” At least ironstone didn’t shatter to virtual sand as some china did. She concentrated on picking up the small fragments he’d scattered, and he reached for a larger piece.

Before she knew it, he’d hauled her to her feet, holding her against him with an arm wrapped in an iron grip around her chest and upper arms, pressing the point of the ironstone shard to her neck.

Belle pulled at his forearm on instinct. “Lieutenant Tillman!” she cried, and she heard running footsteps. “Lieutenant Tillman, it’s all right, it’s Nurse French! You know me!”

“I know damn well what you are, and you’re no nurse,” he snarled near her ear.

Rummond’s heart pounded so hard against his ribs that his breastbone ached. He’d been watching Belle; it was difficult to take his eyes off of her. Tillman moved so fast, though, he hadn’t even time to get a word out before she’d been grabbed up in a hostage hold.

He knew he couldn’t have gotten across the aisle quickly enough, but as soon as Tillman turned and Rummond was out of the Lieutenant’s line of sight, he slipped from the far side of his bunk and crossed to the other side of the ward, where he could move more quickly without being seen.

“Crazy bugger thinks she’s a German,” Lieutenant Booth snorted as his bunkmate snuck away.

Belle vaguely knew as more and more people gathered. Other nurses and orderlies dared get closest, their voices muddled as they all tried to talk to Tillman, each thinking they could talk sense into him. Her ears hummed and she felt lightheaded and too hot, and she knew it was adrenaline, but that didn’t help to clear her whirling thoughts. She had been in dangerous situations since becoming a nurse, but this was the first to threaten her so directly, and terror grew in the pit of her stomach.

“Lieutenant Michael Tillman! Let her go!” Dr. Whale barked above the other voices, and Belle zeroed in on him. Dr. Hopper stood next to him, face blanched, and Ruby stood on the other side. Graham stood beside Dr. Hopper, his hands raised, and Belle couldn’t hear what he said over everyone else, but he looked frightened. Well, at least she wasn’t overreacting to her situation, then.

Some of the patients were hovering at mid-range, most keeping a few feet back from the staff, and she saw worry in their faces, as well. Dr. Glass watched from the ward doors with an almost neutral expression. She didn’t see Captain Gold, though. She should have been able to see him on his bed when she shifted her eyes that way, but he was gone. If she could only see him, see the look on his face, she thought she might be better able to gauge just what kind of trouble she was in. She felt as if his face would give her the truth.

Jefferson whispered, “What are you doing?” as Rummond passed. Rummond swatted a hand in his direction, giving him a look sharp enough to quiet him immediately in return for the question.

He crept between the beds at the far end of the room and made himself as small and low as he could as he moved back up the other aisle. Less than half the length of the room away. He slowed himself to silence the pat of his bare footsteps.

“No one would believe me! And look where we are now!” Tillman ranted, shaking her.

“Lieutenant,” Belle said, praying she could calm him long enough for his delusion to break, or for something to stop him. “I know it feels real, but I promise you-”

“Shut up!” he snapped, shaking her again.

Belle clenched her eyes shut, feeling the piece of ironstone move on her skin. When she opened them again, Tillman had turned enough that she caught movement in the reflection of the window beside his bed. She saw just enough to tell her who it was. Captain Gold.

She could have sobbed, though whether in relief that someone was making an effort to do something or in fear for him, she couldn’t be sure. Tillman was easily fifty pounds heavier than Captain Gold, and if he turned the shard on the other man…

“It’s all right,” she continued, hoping to distract Lieutenant Tillman and keep him from noticing the reflection. It was right in front of him - he only needed to look that way to see. “If you’ll just let me go, we can finish cleaning up the bowl, and perhaps you can talk with Dr. Hopper? I’m sure he-”

“Shut your mouth!” he yelled right behind her ear, digging the shard harder against her neck, and she choked back a cry when she felt the sharp point puncture her skin.

Tillman stood against the side of his bunk, and Rummond could see there was no way to get between. He would have to go over top, and that would mean a very narrow moment during which he could do anything before Tillman knew he was there.

His lungs burned when he held his breath to cut off that sound, as well, and he stepped between Tillman’s bed and the one to the left of it. With his knees at the edge of the mattress, he leaned, putting all of his weight on his good foot, and lunged. He had his hands on Tillman before the springs squeaked, wrenching the hand holding the piece of broken ironstone to force it as far away from Nurse French’s skin as he could.

Belle felt herself yanked backward, and for a second she feared Tillman had done it, slit her throat. But then she heard, “Drop it, boy. Drop the weapon,” in a low voice, somehow dispassionate and chilling at once, almost as near her ear as it was to Tillman’s, and it made her skin crawl. It took a very long beat of her heart to recognize that Captain Gold had gotten to them.

Rummond snaked his hand in behind Tillman’s arm across Nurse French’s chest, wrapping his hand around the Lieutenant’s wrist from the inside with a vice grip. With a sudden push stronger than the pulling hold Tillman had on her, Rummond gave her room to get away, and she took it.

When the grip on her loosened, Belle dropped away, hitting her knees hard enough to bruise, her hands flying to her neck. Graham rushed in to get her, pulling her up and away, and she was surrounded by he, Ruby, and Dr. Hopper as they saw blood and tried to check her. She turned among their hands, trying to see what happened between Captain Gold and Lieutenant Tillman.

Tillman twisted his hand, trying to cut his attacker’s arm, but found himself held at the wrong angle to accomplish it. “I won’t be held prisoner again!” he shouted, fighting. “I’ll kill myself first!”

“Graham, help him!” Belle pled, pushing his hand away from her neck and urging him toward the patients who were still the center of spectation.

The adrenaline in Rummond’s system was waning, and he wasn’t strong enough to hold onto Tillman without its help. He felt his muscles beginning to tremble. To his relief, Humbert knelt one knee on the mattress and Gardner overshadowed them on the window side, each taking one of the Lieutenant’s arms, and he could let go. He scrambled backward off the bunk, just keeping his footing as he put the piece of furniture between himself and Tillman.

-Better to Face the Bullets by @ishtarelisheba

how did it ever get into their heads that they’re cowards

[age-of-moonknight]

“Under the Same Moon,” Vengeance of the Moon Knight (Vol. 2/2024), #6.

Writer: Jed MacKay; Penciler and Inker: Devmalya Pramanik; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit

[kraniumet]

kill bill but exponentially stupider

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

Although he moved to join her, for a long moment, Randall wasn't completely attuned with what Emily was telling him, having found himself so distracted by her heavenly beauty. The combination of the flowing nightgown and her golden Christmas angel hair was enough to render him speechless as he climbed beneath the covers.

(To most, this would probably seem like a trap: A beautiful woman using that beauty to lure in an unsuspecting prey...the spider spinning its web for the unwary fly, to quote the Count. But he knew better than to fear Emily, knew better than to doubt her intentions. She was not a monster.)

"I wouldn't want to miss a moment with you either," he smiled shyly as he lay his head on the plush pillows, felt himself be ensconced in soft, cool bedsheets, a much better quality than the ones he had on his own bed at home. It was a bit like laying on a cloud, he felt-how perfect then, to be preparing to fall asleep beside an angel like her!

"So...what else has Hollywood gotten right and wrong about...vampires, i-if you don't mind me asking?" he ventured to ask, despite his tiredness-it seemed like the aversion to garlic and sunlight were true, at least, but what about other things?

[italeteller]

So um. How do I say this. Sophie and Norea are kinda stupid, aren't they?

I mean, even if you tell me there are no cameras or other people in the hangar to catch them breaking into the Pharact, there's no way they can break the maintenance structures, not to mention kill someone and just hope it doesn't get back to them

Like I don't think she was actually gonna kill Nika at first, the Pharact has a big ass gap on it's foot, but she absolutely meant to kill Suletta once she saw them and like. How did they think they were gonna get away with that?

[allegorism]

not people actually saying ‘guel would be a better protagonist’, i hope you all choke, just say that you all are misogynists