#i know I have abandonment issues but can my brain shut up??

[regionbetween]

some of yall rly just dislike ftms and are proud of it. not all of us are """"transandrophobia truthers""""" and """"hate trans women and think we're better than them and think misandry is real""""" just bc we talk abt the very specific and REAL issues we face being both trans and men. the trans men who DO do this are not fighting for us and do not deserve to be taken seriously and generalized as the face of "transandrophobia" therefore all of the issues we are fucking begging other lgbt people to pay attention to get swept under the rug bc we're all just whack misogynists. im so done talking abt this. this is why a giant percentage of us go stealth and abandon the community that's supposed to help us. ive literally seen it happen. you people do not care about us and it is so glaringly obvious

[froggibus]

The Three Times You Share A Bed - Leon S Kennedy

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x reader

Genre: fluff, some light angst thrown in towards the end?

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: two times you sleep in leon's bed, and the one time he sleeps in yours

CW: roommate! Leon, kinda friends to lovers?, light angst, abandonment issues, paranoia, fear + insomnia, mentions of zombies, bedsharing, leon has intimacy issues (get therapy challenge)

OMG HAPPY RE4 RELEASE!!! I am SO excited to play once im done work this weekend! Leon looks so damn fine in the gameplay ive seen and i am going FERAL! pls no spoilers for anything new in the game! <3

RE4 remake spoiler free zone!! I have yet to play the remake so there are no spoilers in this!

————

The telltale clicking of a key in the door has you on your feet in seconds, abandoning the plush throw blanket on the couch. Before it even opens, you’re standing on the doormat. You feel a little silly, like a golden retriever waiting for its owner, but the shame is washed away when Leon steps through the door.

It’s been three weeks since you’ve last seen your roommate and best friend, and just as long since you last had company. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of you standing in front of him, the dark circles under his eyes becoming more prominent. 

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He sighs and drops his backpack on the floor, locking the door behind him.

“How was it?”

You fight the urge to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and inhale his scent, knowing that’s not what friends do. Still, the feeling is there and if he went in for it, you’d reciprocate in a heartbeat.

He opens the fridge and beams at the fully stocked drinks and snacks. He cracks open a can of cider and leans against the counter. “Long,” he admits, “way too long. And my nose is still burning from the smell of rotten flesh.” You crinkle your nose at the thought. Leon’s never been much of a talker and most of his work being classified didn’t help. Whenever something wasn’t top secret, though, you were sure to sit there and listen no matter how horrific the details were.

You settle in on the couch next to the agent, listening to him drone on about a zombie-like creature that had peeling flesh and fifty eyes. You could vividly picture it from his words alone, and the image of the creature sent a shiver up your spine.

Leon talks for hours, spilling every miniscule detail of every horror he encounters. You stay the whole time, nodding along. Leon laughs at the way you scrunch your face in disgust or close your eyes in fear. He hates how cute you are, but he can’t seem to stop telling you stories. After many hours and a few drinks between the two of you, he’s almost run out of stories to tell.

Leon pats your shoulder gently, collecting his cans from where he’d set them on the coffee table. “I need a shower,” he states. “I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.”

“Go shower. You stink,” you joke and punch him in the ribs.

He feigns injury at your blow, pretending to suck in a breath like you’d really hurt him. He keeps up the facade the whole way to his bedroom, only leaving character when he shuts the door behind him.

It’s only when he’s disappeared that you realize how late it's gotten—and how dark. Even though your shared apartment is on the 19th floor, you can’t help but worry something is going to crawl through your window. You shake the thoughts away and get ready for bed, but every gust of wind and rustling of leaves makes you flinch.

You close your eyes and tug your comforter over your head, hoping that if there is something out there, it won’t know you’re there. You toss and turn for a while longer, staying dead quiet and pushing your fears away.

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. You take a deep breath, throw your comforter off of your shoulders, and sprint to Leon’s room. It’s like your brain is on autopilot—it knows exactly where to go to be safe.

You don’t knock on the door, instead quietly twisting the knob and slipping in through a crack in the door. Leon sits up as soon as your feet touch the wooden floor, eyes snapping towards your silhouette. He’s been a light sleeper ever since Racoon City, waking at the slightest of sounds.

He relaxes at the sight of you but only for a second. He glances at his digital clock, eyes widening at the time. “Y/n? What are you still doing up?”

“I-I couldn’t sleep…I feel like a flesh eating zombie is going to climb through my window and eat me.”

He chuckles. “That would be my fault.” He shuffles over in bed and pulls back the comforter. “You’re more than welcome to stay here for the night.”

You crawl into bed next to him, keeping as much distance between the two of you as possible. You can feel his body heat radiating through the blankets and smell his body wash on his skin. The feeling is new, yet so familiar it eases you instantly.

“Leon?”

He hums in response.

“Is it safer to sleep next to the window or the door? From like, a secret agent standpoint.”

“We’re on the 19th floor so window, but unless it's a hotel room, the door. You would more than likely hear it if they broke down the front door so you’d have more time to get out.”

You think for a second. “Can we switch places?”

“Honestly, y/n,” he laughs dryly, “the safest place to sleep right now is next to me.”

Your face warms at that and you nod, relaxing into his pillows. While you drift off to sleep, Leon watches over you. He knows nothing is going to come for you here, but he did promise to keep you safe, and he’ll keep that promise no matter what.

—

When you get home, you’re in a foul mood. You practically throw the groceries onto the counter before walking to your room and throwing yourself onto your bed. It’s been a long day. All of the stores were so busy you could hardly get through the aisles, and all of the people you encountered were rude.

Leon comes out of his room a few minutes later. Seeing the groceries abandoned on the counter, his first thought is to check on you. He doesn’t check on you, though. Not yet, anyway. He knows you’ll just be more upset if the frozen items melt and the milk sits out all night, so he sets out on putting them away.

After almost an hour of laying in your bed trying to recuperate after the day you’ve had, you’re snapped out of it by a text.

Leon: Come here, I have a surprise for you

You don’t feel like leaving your bed, but you force yourself out of it anyway. It’s not Leon you’re mad at. Leon is probably the only person in the world you don’t hate right now. You knock on his door softly, holding your arms behind your back.

“Come in!” He shouts.

You open the door, shuffling into his room and closing it behind you. Your jaw drops when you see a tray in the middle of his bed piled high with your favorite snacks, drinks and two wine glasses. Leon pats the spot next to him and you’re happy to oblige, relaxing onto the mattress.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

He shrugs, pouring you a glass of wine. “It already seems like you had a bad day, I just wanted to do something to make it a little better for you.”

“Thank you.” He nods in acknowledgement, turning on his tv and handing you the remote. “You can choose the first movie. Just—maybe no zombies?”

You snort at that. Classic Leon, using his corny jokes to make light of even the worst of situations. You settle on an old favorite movie you love, handing the remote back to the blond and switching it for a wine glass.

Between your favorite movie, the delicious wine and your favorite snacks, your spirits are lifted in no time. One movie turns into two, and two turns into three. Soon enough, you’re dozing off in Leon’s bed.

He moves the tray of snacks and the glasses off of the bed to give you more room to sprawl out. Laying down next to you, he watches you sleep. A part of him wishes he could see this every night—the same sight he fantasizes about on even the hardest of missions.

He flicks off the lamp on his side table and settles in. “Good night, cutie,” he mumbles, knowing you’re far too deep in sleep to hear him.

—

You wake up in the middle of the night, moonlight streaming through the window and illuminating Leon’s bedroom. You’re still numb from sleep, your senses dulled just enough that it takes you a minute to realize that something is grabbing you. No, not grabbing—holding. 

You blink a few times. Leon is laying next to you, his chest pressed to your back, his arms around your waist. You can feel the slow beating of his heart and the heat coming off of his skin. He’s so close it overwhelms you, yet it’s all you’ve ever wanted.

You think about slipping away but you know what a light sleeper he is, and you don’t think you could handle it if he woke up and saw how close you were. You close your eyes and try to calm the beating in your heart so you can fall back asleep.

When you wake up again, Leon is gone. Your body feels cold where his once was. You sit up—is he showering? He can’t be, the bathroom door is open. You sit up, letting the blankets fall off of you. You swing your legs over the side of his bed, walking out to the kitchen, but he’s not there either.

Did he leave to go get something? 

You check your phone, expecting to see a text saying he ran out to go get more milk or something, but there’s nothing. You sigh, typing up a message and sending it to him.

Y/N: where’d you go?

You practically jump when your phone lets out a noise, but your heart sinks when you see what it is.

Message Not Delivered. Try Again?

You sigh. That can only mean one thing: he’s on another mission. Typical Leon, disappearing in the middle of the night to go god knows where for god knows how long. The frustration bubbles up in your chest and you feel like hitting something, but you don’t. It’s not worth it.

You try to keep your mind off of his sudden disappearance by throwing yourself into chores. You wash his bedding and make his bed, then wash your own. You sweep and mop the floors and vacuum the carpets. You dust the blinds.

It doesn’t help.

Your mind keeps wandering back to the fact that he left without saying goodbye. That he woke up at some ungodly hour, saw you laying in his arms, got up and left without another word. He didn’t even leave a note. He really cares that little. 

You shake your head and even though the pit in your stomach makes you feel like not eating, you make yourself a sandwich regardless. Seeing the untouched groceries in the fridge just adds to the feeling.

Even though you know he’s not going to get it, you pull out your phone and start typing.

Y/N: do you at least know when you’ll be back?

Message Not Delivered. Try Again?

The message makes you roll your eyes. Leon fucking Kennedy.

—

A week goes by, and then two, and you still hear nothing from your roommate. You send texts here and there, hoping for an answer, but none of them go through. Eventually, you start venting to him through there, too. Expressing how frustrated you are that he didn’t say goodbye, how annoying your feelings are, how sometimes you wish you didn’t know him so you didn’t have to go through this.

It’s a random Sunday night when you’re sitting on the couch, watching trash reality tv and eating snacks. It’s cold in the apartment, but you can’t be bothered to turn on the heat. Only when your arms puff up with goosebumps do you scour the room for a sweater, settling on a random one hanging on the back of a chair.

It’s Leon’s, an old one from the Police Academy. His smell floods your nose when you pull it over your head, and it's so bittersweet you don’t know if you should laugh or cry. You settle back on the couch, but a rustling at the window makes you freeze in your tracks.

It stops for a moment, and you can almost convince yourself you’ve imagined it or it’s a part of the show—until it happens again. You scramble for the remote, pausing it so you can hear better. The noise starts again, and you waste no time in hightailing it to your bedroom and slamming the door behind you.

You flop onto your bed, trying (and failing) to remind yourself that it’s just the wind. That you’re safe here. But it’s hard when it’s late and you’re tired and you’re alone and the only person you feel safe with just abandoned you.

You curl up into a ball, pulling Leon’s sweater over your mouth and inhaling the familiar scent. It’s enough to calm you down, if only for a few moments. If you close your eyes, you can almost trick yourself into thinking he’s there, and for now, that’s good enough.

—

Leon knows he fucked up when he gets back to the country and turns on his phone. Almost fifty messages from you, each one more sad than the last. He wants to slap himself—why couldn’t he just grow a pair and say goodbye? Why did he have to be so noncommittal?

He reads every message on the cab ride back to the apartment, and his heart breaks for you. He didn’t think about how you would drive yourself crazy over him or how worried you must have been. All he thought about was getting the call for the mission in the middle of the night and not wanting to wake you up.

But he didn’t abandon you. He thought about you every day and god—he wishes he could have talked to you. Hearing your voice and seeing your face was enough to make everything better. With the horrors he’s seen lately, all he wants is to be back in that bed with you for one more night.

He’s quiet coming into the apartment, hoping he doesn’t wake you up or scare you. And even though he knows you’re sleeping, he’s still disappointed you’re not waiting at the door for him.

He tosses his backpack into his room and strips off all of his holsters and velcro.  He’s quiet walking down the hallway to your room and even quieter opening the door. He relaxes at the sight of you curled up in a ball. 

You look so cute and so peaceful and—is that his sweater? The sight brings a smile to his face. He closes the door behind him with a soft click, climbing into the bed next to you.

You wake up when the bed dips down and arms wrap around you. You’re so tired you don’t even care who or what it is.

“If you’re gonna kill me, can you at least let me sleep first?” You mumble.

You fully awake as soon as you hear Leon’s laugh.

“You’re back?” You say, and you hate the way your voice cracks. 

You turn around to face him, tired ocean eyes meeting yours. He nods sleepily, “‘m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. It was stupid of me.”

“It’s okay,” and it really is okay. All the resentment you felt melted away at the sight of him. 

“C’mere,” he mumbles. 

You lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around him. You can hear his heart rate slow down at the contact. 

“I just—I just need you tonight.” Those are big words coming from the agent, and they leave you completely stunned. He must have seen or done something horrible while he was away for him to be this vulnerable, even with you.

“You can have me tonight.” You try to keep your voice even, “you can have me whenever you need me,”

He kisses the top of your head. “But I always need you.”

“Then I’m always yours.”

Neither of you speak after that, Leon falling into a light sleep. You stay up a while longer, watching the blond boy rest beneath you. He looks so fragile like this, you can’t imagine him fighting off monsters and handling weapons. You kiss his collarbone through his shirt and let yourself fall asleep with him. 

[hazelnut-u-out]

What would your ideal Morty therapy appointment look like (assuming that he went alone)? 🤔

Going to try to answer this even though my brain feels like mush, lol.

So, there are quite a few things I'd like to see. Obviously, I wouldn't expect a single episode to actually tackle every aspect of what therapy would realistically look like for a character like Morty, but hey-- at this rate, every episode aside from 'Fear No Mort' that's attempted to psychoanalyze him hasn't done the best job, I fear... *cough cough*

Anyway, here are some of the things I'd like to see addressed in an actual therapy setting (importantly, not some other form of psychoanalysis, like the Fear Hole, Roy, etc.):

Autism/Pilot Disability

It bothers me every day that the writers never followed up on that throw-away line about Morty having a disability in the pilot. Obviously, I headcanon that he's autistic (I mean, surely that's half of the dynamic with Rick right there, lol). I personally think that Rick and Morty have some autistic traits that present to the opposing extremes. For example, I think Rick struggles with hypo-empathy and Morty with hyper-empathy. I think Rick excels in math where Morty excels in English/literature. I think Rick struggles to mask and Morty is high masking. Rick just doesn't people please to survive in the same way Morty has been socialized to. (Most of this is my interpretation of the characters, but there are scenes that back up my points, as I'm sure you've caught onto, haha.) I think it would be cool to see Morty open up about feeling ostracized from his peers, struggling to make friends his own age, struggling with feelings of being 'behind'/weird/awkward, and how all of that made him the perfect victim. This is probably the least likely of my wants to be addressed in a therapy setting. I think that if they confirm it, it'd be in a pretty lowkey way, similar to what they did with Rick. I think the cold open for 'Mort: Ragnarick' might've actually been an indication that Morty isn't neurotypical, but we knew that already. I actually sort of headcanon Goldenfold's class as a remedial math course because of how simple the math seems to be, though I'm sure it was initially just some math they threw in for the pilot.

2. Grooming...

This is a tough one to include. Morty has been with WAYYY too many older women throughout the course of the show, but Planetina in particular gives me the chills. I would love to see how that's impacted him, or maybe even how his abusive dynamic with Rick and his neglectful relationship with his parents pushed him into that vulnerable position even more.

3. Mommy Issues (or neglectful parenting in general)

This one is a good follow-up for the last one. Morty's dynamic with Beth in 'A Rickconvenient Mort' is something I literally get up in the middle of the night just to think about. It makes my chest ache. I think it's because I know exactly how it feels to be Morty in that situation. When your parents constantly downplay your own feelings, put you in dangerous/vulnerable situations with reckless abandon, and completely shut you out emotionally it can feel like they just want to ruin your life when they try to protect you. To be honest, the show's dynamic wouldn't exist without Beth's negligence. Morty has two moms and neither of them have really tried to protect him. Even Jerry failed him.

4. Crying.

Idk, just lots of it. He deserves to cry about whatever he wants and be validated.

5. Justifying Rick's Actions

I would LOVE to see Morty try to explain Rick's actions away to someone who actually cares if he's being abused. I could see Morty say something to a therapist, there be a negative reaction or uncomfortable silence, and him try to say: 'It's really for my own good, though, you see...'/'You just don't know Rick the way I do. I'm the only one who really gets him...'/'It would break Mom's heart...'/'He would never hurt me on purpose...' Then to have a professional get in there and really debunk that internalized manipulation? I would die (in a good way).

5. Trauma Responses

They've sort of been hinting at this for a bit, but I think the whole point of Rick's improvement-- at least, in Morty's case-- is 'too little too late.' Rick may be getting better, but how is Morty supposed to trust him? Especially when Rick has been 'nice' for the express purpose of hurting him before? Even in his everyday life, I'm sure he has those moments of anxiety/dread/odd behavior because of the shit he's been through.

There's more, but my brain is fried right now, so maybe I'll revisit this ask later. Anyway, this was fun to think about! Thanks for asking! <3

[playertwotails]

Okay 4 things in the new Scrapnik Island Issue #3 I can't get over.

For #1:

Sonic is in danger and Tails immediately makes guns for himself and his new squad. Just no Sonic around and he goes straight to making lethal weaponry.

Bonus 1.5:

He blep when concentrating

For #2:

Tails went full Black Ops strike team with a little 'gamerish trying to sound cool' lingo there and I love him for it. "Stay Frosty you guys" is so cheesy and I love it. Look at him take charge and lead a covert ops team. He got whole outfit on too. It's a look not gonna lie.

For #3:

Mecha does remember Tails can fly right????...like he's not a character you can let gravity decide this with...he can fly. I feel like next issue is gonna have a moment with Tails where he basically comes back, looks Mecha in the eyes and is basically is like "...are you dumb???...cause I think you might stupid or have very poor planning....I can fly rust nuts remember"

Maybe the walls are too close for him to fly but this has to come back and bite Mecha in the ass. It's just shock value bait I'm calling it now you can't just drop a flying character and think "welp that's the end of that!!... dum de dum dee dum going about my day now" with no consequences.

And lastly #4:

I will never shut up about this. Look at Sonic he gets one hint Tails might be in danger or hurt and protective older brother instincts go into over drive. He get out of those restraints before Tails shows back up okay and he might be catching a metal body, forget any moral codes he has. Sonic just looks like he's about to go off on Mecha when he thinks Tails might be in danger.

Extra Bonus:

Do you know how much I would give if they let Tails go off here. You know Tails the character who canonically was living on his own as a tiny child in the woods and then found and practically raised by Sonic cause he had been abandoned and ostracized by his own village and possibly parents. Just when Mecha said this I wish they basically let Tails reply with a:

"Bitch join the club, you ain't special"

Cause like out of anyone Mecha could talk to that understands that feeling of being abandoned and forgotten....it's gonna be Tails. He chose the wrong person to try and use the "oh you could never understand me" trope on. Welcome to Tails whole backstory Mecha you empty soup can for a brain.

[v3nusxsky]

Hi, can I ask for an angst with Larissa like maybe some sort of fight that ends with some accident like idk maybe a car one or sth and reader is in bad state at the hospital and Larissa cries and begs unconscious reader to not leave her and that she is sorry etc? And maybe the doc enters and says that reader had more luck than they think and she and the baby should be fine. And Larissa cries more with mixed feelings of guilt and happiness because they tried for a kid for a long time? I leave the ending for you ;* thank you ❤️

Don’t leave me| Angst

*Authors note~ my heart I sincerely apologise for what lays ahead.*

Trigger warnings~ angst car crash mentions pregnancy loss

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Arguing with your lover was something you always hated, your anxiety would go sky high and your abandonment issues would flare up. But you'd had your fare share of arguments with Larissa but she'd always stayed. Never had she left during an argument, maybe another room but you always knew she would come back. And she always did until tonight.

You'd had the worst fight ever, really your missed your wife's presence but understood her job yet missing your anniversary was the last straw. You lots your cool and decided on a drive. You only wanted to clear your head but realistically getting in the car so upset wasn't the best idea. Of course rational thoughts weren't occurring for you so you indeed got in the car and drove from the shared house.

You don't remember what happened exactly but you remember the sounds of horns, and a blue car slamming into the drivers side of your car. The windows smashing around you as you lost your consciousness. Perhaps this was how it was meant to be. You didn't even get a chance to talk to Larissa, to give her the surprise but now you had killed your self and your daughter.

Larissa Weems went to find her lover, after all she didn't want this to happen, she didn't mean to hurt you. Wednesday Addams was causing her no end of grief and unfortunately you suffered the consequences of this. She knew you were in the right here but as soon as she heard the door slam shut she couldn't help the guilt eating her alive. Maybe that's why when you didn't return she began to pace and attempt to control her panic until her phone rang.

"Your wife's been in a car accident, unresponsive at the scene and is currently being taken to Jericho Hospital" replayed through the blondes head as she drove to you on autopilot. The last words she said wouldn't leave her brain and that's the last thing she wanted you to hear. And what about the baby? Oh god she couldn't lose the both of you. God what had she done? The what if situations driving her insane as her heart ached in the unknown. And the disappointment in herself rising with every passing second. If she just didn't spend so much time chasing after Wednesday Addams or if she made you feel special and loved more often then this wouldn't be happening.

Larissa wasn't known for patience, her status as headmistress of Nevermore often gained her access to things she typically wouldn't have, and that her connections with the mayor made it much more easy for her to obtain. It was no surprise that when the beautiful six foot three woman came barging in the doors that she was immediately directed to the room in which you lay unconscious and pretty badly bruised but no other signs of massive damage. The monitor attached to your beautiful bump showing that your precious baby was alive for now.

"We aren't sure if she'll wake up, and if that's the case then we need to operate and save the baby" the nurse informed your wife while you lay there willing your body to work. "I'm sorry baby! I love you so much. Please don't leave me. I'm so so so sorry sweetheart, you're my world. Our little sunshine is okay, their hearts beating away. Fight angel please I can't lose you. I'm so so sorry" she sobbed clutching at your hand as if it would some how make a difference.

God knows how long she sat there like that, crying and apologising to you, but the moment your eyes fluttered open and you immediately drew your attention to her hands on yours. "Ris?" You croaked out before your eyes found the monitor. "Sweetheart! I'm sorry I'm so so sorry I didn't mean to love, I can't lose you." She rambled as she grabbed some water to hopefully soothe your throat. After a small sip you couldn't help but murmur, "is she okay?"

"She? It's a girl" Larissa whispered which had you nodding with tears in your eyes, "it's what I wanted to tell you tonight, on our anniversary, that we are having a beautiful little princess." Larissa's hand soon found its way to cradle your daughters bump, "our little Dahlia Rae? I'm so in love with you" she murmured as you nodded in response, "I'm in love with you too baby, I'm sorry for fighting and driving upset. I'm so glad we are okay, to be with my favourite human ever."

You'd spent the past few days in hospital just for precautionary measures, but Larissa never left your side for a second. You thought maybe she'd relax once you made it home, but no you and Lia were treated like queens and even the night you gave birth, Larissa vowed to never make you feel anything less. She stood cradling the beautiful newborn, looking down at her with such and adoring smile you felt like your heart grew twelve sizes. One silly argument would never defeat the love you shared.

Word count~ 984

Tag list ~ @enchantressb @fortheloveofaproditesblessings @medeaswifey @scream-queenlover @larrisalessopet @briennethebeautysstuff @xx-state-of-mind-xx @i-write-sometimes-maybe @farahtissaiamyloves @just-your-casual-nerd

[thegoodending-thelasttime]

my reaction to the resident lover lore drop: part two

access the doc yourself here

spoilers utc

DONNA CONTD

i have a lot to say about the the donna and daniela relationship section, none of which i feel capable of putting into words for the time being. i will, however, say this.

"Donna is watching what could've been in regards to her past self when it comes to Dani and MC"

"Just sometimes [Donna] really wants to hit [Cassandra] you know?" i think a lot of people in the fandom know after Cass' infamous neutral ending

"She grieves but she lets herself live too." all the muscles in my face are convulsing

"Donna struggles to stand up for herself for a long portion of her route and only through the aid of MC will she start to show a little more of her backbone." Donna. i can help you be brave Donna. pick me. choose me. love me. (delusional 3)

"There is a brief scene in which Miranda and Donna are having tea while Donna has a complete and utter breakdown about just how on the edge she is. Miranda of course encourages her to keep spiraling..." miranda i'm going to get you.

"Donna is mentally unstable at this point and can either be sent into the abyss or helped out of the low point toward a brighter future." I CAN HELP YOU TOWARD A BRIGHTER FUTURE DONNA I SWEAR PLEASE (delusional 4)

Depression being a theme is just. I'm going to write a hurt/comfort fic about this.

and, "Destiny [Soulmates]" don't think I'm normal about that either. cuz i'm not.

the nursery being an allegory for Donna. my brain feels like a backyard and you're mowing it with a tiny little lawnmower.

"Hades and Persephone" words. in my mind.

glad that Donna fans unknowingly cracked phantom of the opera though, that's fun

"...she is not unwilling to lunge towards Miranda herself and brandish a weapon in her direction." she's so real for this

"Miranda has had to trigger the loop several times in reaction to a violent outburst of Donna’s." WOOOO YOU GO BABE. FUCK UP MIRANDA'S LIVES HELL YEAH

"MC shows unconditional and unwavering love towards someone with severe abandonment issues and gets a very attached flower shop owner for their troubles." SHUT UP MY HEART.

"...a small part of her is pleased to know she got the upper hand on Miranda. Donna’s ability to make MC explicitly reject Miranda has left the goddess incredibly pissed..." FUCK YEAH

"Post Donna Miranda is particularly cruel about how she treats the toxicologist and parades MC near her but never in reach." top five sentences that make you want to kill a cult leader

"LIKES: Stuffed Animals..." help i love her so much my heart really can't take this

"LIKES: Pranks. I’m sorry she’s a menace" i'll prank her back (by kissing her on the face)

"DISLIKES: Those really sad adoption commercials where they play ‘I Will Remember You’ while a slideshow of really sad puppies plays. They make her cry" NO DONNA POOKIE BEAR DON'T CRY COME HER LET ME HUG YOU

"DISLIKES: Miranda" OMG SHE DISLIKES MIRANDA TOO (shocker) !?!?! WE'RE SO SIMILAR WE SHOULD MARRY ACTUALLY

MIRANDA

MC and miranda being burned alive the first time around. man wtf

love that they were both canonically sickly victiorian children at one point

"Death penalty for sodomy" that actually has me so fucked up. how could you do this to me

"[MC] Drowned, Miranda was nearby but chose not to save them" WHAT WHY

"Mia got mad and threw a stone at MC" i would get mad too if i saw someone repeatedly fall for miranda over the course of multiple timelines

"Miranda ran MC over in an accident" HELP 💀

miranda really fell for the unluckiest motherfucker goddamn. tom and jerry ass

"Yes + Mia" "No + Mia" best way to word this. i will be using these from now on. ask me a yes/no question i dare you.

"This life is when the very first iteration of Eva is born and it completely changes Miranda’s soul as a confounding variable in their soulmate-hood" oh my GOD. i'm a little scared miranda's section might be making me start to like her a little.. NO I REFUSE. THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING.

"Toxic Yuri + Loving" thank you Cinder. i appreciate you for your silliness.

really wish we got more eva content but oh well. maybe in the dlc content the team said would probably come out in a few years/maybe more

"Mia’s soul has slowly changed over time and has grown to naturally despise Miranda’s soul for its unwitting part in MCs death every life" nvm i like Mia infinitely more than miranda

"Mia acts as a foil to Miranda’s relationship in every life they meet because she is - without fail - naturally resistant to them being together and highly suspicious of the way Miranda behaves" FUCK MOTHER MIRANDA ALL MY HOMIES HATE MOTHER MIRANDA. MIA'S A REAL ONE.

"[Bela and Miranda] would be insane if they worked together, but unfortunately, they are narratively designed to be pitted against each other" i disagree i think it's very fortunate they're not on the same team

"Miranda is afraid of [Donna] because she remembers every single time loop... Donna is also handy with sharp objects and has been known to attempt a few murders at meetings when pushed..." fuck yeah. be afraid miranda.

"...views Donna as “cursed” due to her family history of deaths" can i say kys just this once (to miranda).

"Intrinsically offended when MC chose Donna during the loop" be offended. L + bozo + cry about it + Donna's better

"[Donna and Miranda have] used each other as crutches in moments of weakness... they used to have regular tea together in which they would act out their familial roles and encourage each other further down their spirals" i'm actually not okay rn thanks for asking!

...that legitimately has me so fucked up

"Miranda actively encourages Donna’s fears to keep her under control..." "She would kill Angie to both punish Donna and to relieve herself of the annoyance" hey miranda come here. what do you mean, i don't have anything in my pocket. don't worry about it just come here. so i can... hug you. SHANKS YOU MIA STYLE BUT IT ACTUALLY WORKS THIS TIME SHANKS YOU MIA STYLE BUT IT ACTUALLY WORKS THIS TIME SHANKS YOU MIA STYLE BUT IT ACTUALLY WORKS THIS TIME

"Miranda and MC are soulmates, all the way up to their 19th life this is 100% proven and true (even though they don't always get to meet) but the 20th life is different because Miranda is still in her 19th. It could be argued that MCs soulmate is who 20th Miranda was supposed to be. (Could've been if a coin had been flipped)." I'M ACTUALLY HYPERVENTILATING RIGHT NOW THANK YOU FOR FEEDING USTHANKYOU MY HEART OH MY FUCKIUNG GOD ASDFGUIHUADSDHLFKAJHSDFKLGJHDAFKJG. I BANGED ON MY DESK THAT'S NOT EVEN A JOKE WHAT THE ACTUASL FUCK

"MC would go into divorce arc which is salvageable but very long winded" need yall to elaborate on this, also it made me giggle

"The only exceptions are Mia (who told Miranda to fuck off), Bela (who still remembered), and Angie (who doesn’t listen to anybody)." that's so based of all of them. naming them the based squad for this.

"DISLIKES: Her height being mentioned" i don't care if it's a low blow and that she's actually one inch taller than me. i'll call her short. short ass. imagine being 5'6" lmao

part three coming up

[kotias]

Good Omens season 2 is a coming out fable.

Especially when you consider that all the relationships we see are queer:

- Aziraphale and Crowley

- Maggie and Nina

- Gabriel and Beelzebub

- the two punks in the graveyard with the phone only having Twitter and Grindr

- the shopkeeper and his spouse

Both Crowley and Aziraphale got recently liberated from Hell and Heaven respectively, from any responsibility towards them, and even from hiding their relationship, because both sides know by now, and tried (and failed) to punish them for it.

We have the two "young adults" who just left their toxic families and can finally taste the freedom of being themselves and together. One immediately embraces it, and goes fullblown DRAMATIC GAY about it (Crowley of course), while the other is still sheltered and shy and has had the family's sayings drilled so deeply in him that even considering whatever is happening would feel an impossible step for him (Aziraphale)

And then... two other gays in a similar situation (angel x demon) appear (Gabriel and Beelzebub, making a representation for our angel of "oh my goodness, that was an option???"

But, because it's such new information, that he has literally no time to take in because The Metatron pops in right after to shut that down real quick, he can't give his own angry little snake husband what he WISHES he could give him.

I’m not good on analysing queer representation in media, but this really feels like a love story to the community and a representation of their struggles to truly find themselves.

In this season, while Gabriel and Beelzebub were the fullblown representation that our little gay immortal beings needed, Maggie and Nina are the “experienced” people of the community, helping the little sheltered boys out of their shells, practically giving Crowley an instruction manual that he tries really hard to follow.

But it doesn’t work... does it?

Because, one of the issues that one can face is: family clawing their way back into your brain, and destroying everything you’ve worked on to heal from their influence.

The Metatron is walzing into Aziraphale’s life, offering a warm coffee and a fawning voice, while at the same time staring daggers at Crowley who is just sprawling in his favourite chair, and bringing the angel outside for The Talk.

This feels like a family member who “doesn’t understand why you’ve changed so much my dear, it must be the influence of this darn friend of yours”, but instead of saying that... he goes in more slyly, offering Aziraphale something that cannot be refused: an esteemed place in a “family” who he never truly felt a part of. But Metatron knows, he knows very well that Crowley would never accept going back to Heaven. He knows that he’s given Aziraphale too much hope to abandon that dream of being accepted by his “family”.

This series is so good, I’m being so emotional right now.

So thank you @neil-gaiman​

Given what I wrote here, I am therefore expecting Aziraphale to wear that FABULOUS coat that Gabriel found in his closet (HUMHUM YES YES GABRIEL FINDING CLOSETED GAY CLOTHES) in season 3, when he is ready for the coming out dance of the millenium.

Crowley deserves at least that as an apology (not that he needs to forgive anything to Aziraphale, the second he sees him he’ll have forgiven everything, but he still wants that dance in a dramatic coat).

And I also expect their next kiss to literally rewrite the world after it was brought to destruction by the Second Coming.

Because if their joint “tiniest miracle we can do, so that even Heaven can’t pick up on it, we’re so stealthy” ended up conjuring a power that could raise 25 people back from the dead, I cannot be told that their real kiss, and their putting their all in a joint miracle, wouldn’t reboot the universe.

And I think that’s exactly why Metatron is trying to separate them: as angels from creation (since demons are former angels), they weren’t supposed to love one another, and angelic love could be incredibly dangerous to the “Ineffable Plan”, if it indeed has the ability to rewrite everything.

[floating-above-sea-level]

More SecurityWaiter/DreamTheory headcanons I literally cannot get enough of them (part 2 😋😋😋)

This one is probably gonna be fairly romantic and affection focused cause I have brainrot

-Mike gets flustered so so easily because he’s literally chronically bitchless and this is the first time he’s experienced romantic affection EVER however he’s ALSO horribly oblivious and tired so it takes him forever to process flirting and affection half the time but then when he does he just turns bright red and his brain stops working

-Mike gets so incredibly dazed every time Ness kisses him on the lips. A cheek peck or smth is one thing and it will leave him flustered but any and all genuine mouth kisses leaves him completely speechless for a solid second and Ness thinks it’s the cutest thing ever (because it is)

-I saw that whole “Ness has freckles and Mike likes to kiss/count them” thing but literally shut up it is so the other way around cause Mike literally has freckles and Ness would do that shit and it would make Mike feel so warm and fuzzy and just ashsmskkskdkansjsksksjjs and Ness just thinks he’s adorable (BECAUSE HE IS !!!!!!) /lh

-they are such cuddlers they cuddle so much cause Mike is always so sleepy and Ness just loves playing with his hair and watching him as he looks so peaceful because cuddling with Ness actually helps him sleep and on the somewhat common occasion he starts having a nightmare Ness will gently nudge and kiss him awake and comfort him and then Mike can ACTUALLY GET SOME REST FOR ONCE IN HIS LIFE DEAR GOD

-sorry I’m so autism abt these guys

-anyways

-Ness is all abt pet names dear god like Sugar obviously yes but he will literally call Mike anything and everything and Mike will barely pull out a “babe” or a “hon” and that’s like it but Ness is just like “baby, babe, my love, hon, honey, sugarplum, pumpkin, muffin cakes, kitten whiskers, meow meow, pookie, schnookums, puppy, doll, meatloaf, sweetheart, light of my life, I literally love you” and Mike is just like “😦😦😦 wait the fuck did you just call me-“

-they like to hold hands and like Ness is a fast walker so he’ll hold Mike’s hand to help him keep up or if he doesn’t wanna hold hands then Mike will like hang onto his shirt or bag or jacket or whatever else is available so he doesn’t get left in the dust (I’m projecting I’m the short friend who’s love language is physical touch this is literally just me)

-Mike is so physical touch but also gets embarrassed about PDA so he like won’t do much in public but as soon as they get home Mike is like all over him (quite literally like he leans on Ness and cuddles them and shit cause he’s just a little eepy cozy guy) and Ness is more abt the yapping (aka words of affirmation, hence pet names and such) but he also loves physical affection and he knows Mike likes it and it makes him flustered so he’ll purposely play things up and be extra touchy and just ahskslskskdlslsks HELP IM SO AUTISM ABT THESE GUYS

-they are so clingy idc they will text each other for as long as Ness stays up while Mike is working, then they see each other at Sparky’s and Ness forgets they have other tables to worry abt half the time cause they’re so focused on Mike, and then whenever they hang out in private they’re like never more than a few feet away from each other waaaaahhhhhhh

-they both get anxiety when the other doesn’t respond for a while, Mike cause he’s got abandonment/attachment issues, and Ness because Mike is severely mentally ill and him not responding could mean ANYTHING and again they’re also just both clingy asf with each other

-hugs. Such huggers. I know I already said they cuddle but they also hug so so much. Mike always needs a good hug and Ness is more than happy to give him one

-GOD UGH I CANT EVEN

-sorry

-again

-erm

-anyways

-Ness loves playing with Mike’s hair so much. Mike finds it really relaxing and comforting and Ness loves seeing him like that

-they are so so so orange cat x black dog energy GOOD LORD (Ness is the orange cat and Mike is the black dog obviously. Like yes Mike is a soggy cat but he’s also literally just a puppy like look at him)

-I’m being so cringe who let me on tumblr I’m getting too comfortable on here (it gets worse)

-RAAAAAHHHHH

-ok i need to stop before i explode

-I love them sm

-I’m gonna shut up now

-thank you and goodnight

[lazlolullaby]

Where is the Moon Knight AU where Marc and Layla's patron Gods are swapped? and now my brain can't work because it extended into a full roleswap AU?

Layla's father came back from a successful dig with a trove of information and a lovely little ushabti of Khonshu. However, Abdullah is acting strange, talking to thin air, going out at night, researching further into obscure things. The lights are also flickering no matter how much she checks the generator and the wind keeps blowing despite the doors being shut.

Abdullah El-Faouly is the Eye of Khonshu: being banished for so long from the world, the God needs some time to adjust before going forward with his plan of punishing evildoers. (this was Khonshu trying so hard to be like the Ennead, but he could not abandon his nature to protect.) Abdullah ends up breaking the contract and Khonshu leaves the ushabti behind as a token of protection.

(then there is Arthur Harrow, the Talons of Khonshu. While his willingness to perform violence is a boon, sometimes he is too eager.)

Everything is fine for a while, then mercenaries break in to find the artifact. Bushman threatens them. Layla fights and takes down most of them, but her father is still hurt. One of the remaining mercenaries turns on Bushman. (He starts the mission as Marc - but since he can't handle another innocent death on his hands, backs out and swaps with Jake.)

During the struggle, Layla gets shot. Jake gets things done and then scatters. (he believes that he killed her. this has. repercussions on the system.)

Khonshu at first just wanted to revive Abdullah, but at his insistence he gives up being an Avatar so Layla can be revived. "she is going to be angry. You won't be there to see it." "she would have gone after them anyway."

(Khonshu abandons Harrow for this, not sure if it was worth it.)

Abdullah is right. Layla does go on a hunt, now as the Wings of Khonshu. Moon Scarab, to the underworld and the rumor mill.

She's mad about everything. Mad that her father presumed she needed saving, mad that she has to listen to an angry bird. (Rage, though it burns hot, always burns out. It's better than the cold certainty of Harrow's punish before wrongdoing. It is worth it.)

(Layla isn't unhinged, she's just gripping very tight to the hinges, thank you for asking.)

Weeks pass and she finds the last person of the mercenary group. A man cuffed to a wheelchair in a psych ward, sedated.

"His mind is fractured. Broken." Khonshu says. "It could be a fitting punishment, to keep him here. His body rotting while his mind spins in fruitless cycles."

"or he could be very good at hiding. One way to find out."

Layla is an excellent forger - a release for the merc, a small flat and money to keep him in town while he recovers from treatment. She feeds him a lie about being a family friend. There's a flicker of distrust.

"I've got a condition - blacking out, memory issues, insomnia - I'll be up reading all night." He says his name is Steven, but she knows better. "Are you sure you want to be flatmates?"

"I have places to be at night." Khonshu flickers the lights.

"Oh. Fine. Night owl, that's...fine."

"Don't worry about the lights, the landlord never answers the calls." don't mind that she's the landlord.

Her coming home with bruises and cuts. Steven flinches, insisting they go out to get bandages because they don't have a proper first aid kit. The awkward stare off with a hurt lady and a nervous guy VS the night shift cashier that's Seen it All. "bar fight. I won." Layla grins, blood on her teeth.

(The little moment where they're close as he's putting a bandage on her nose and being. so. tender. to someone who's never been more than 'distractedly polite' to him. His face changing to something new, something strange and lovely.)

When she finds him hitting himself, it's not that hard for him to explain. "I don't - I don't know if this is real. Jake is very sure you're dead!"

It turns out after the night of the attack, Jake got them far away as possible. He resolved to become a night driver and Steven to keep house in the day. Marc woke up and realized an alter was trying to build a life and just...let them. Better than mercenary work.

Steven gets worried about his missing time and gets therapy...and the therapist realizes, tells them and pushes them too hard to "come together as one whole"...Jake snaps and he's forced into a psych ward.

They cribbed together some form of communication on the psych ward thanks to a different therapist and the other patients. Marc's immense guilt wanted them to stay. But Jake and Steven wanted the body out. If they spent more time in the ward, they might reveal some crimes and the system doubts that they'll be allowed this level of help in a prison.

When Layla arrived to take them, it was an opportunity they didn't want to refuse.

"We don't want to be one person. We want to be ourselves." Steven fully introduces them after that. "We are the Hippo system! Like the Hippocampus of the brain that works with memory - that's Marc - and navigation - that's Jake!" He spells it out, "He Isn't a People Person Otherwise!"

"Who's he?"

Steven shrugs. "I dunno. I'm just here for general life, Jake is here for protection and gossip and Marc...he's well. Not as social as he'd like to be. I'm not supposed to know about it, that's not my "function", as the doc would say but...whatever happened that made us us was too much for one person to bear. It happened before we met you, so it's not your fault."

Layla shrugs. "What can you tell me about that night?"

"I can't tell you. That's part of the point, us being separate and all."

She eventually gets an answer out of them. Layla also lies and says she wasn't as badly hurt as they saw and shows off her Moon Scarab suit with the healing. (Jake accepts that answer at face value. Steven is a little concerned but willing to let it slide. Marc is suspicious.)

Now with their first round of secrets gone, they feel more at home. The Hippo System settles in as a decent partner in her artifact retrieval - he can put his mercenary skills to a good cause and she doesn't have to hide that burning rage as much. (the rage dims, is soothed and that's not good for vengeance.)

Khonshu starts to intrude, making noises about using the Hippo System as his next Avatar. Layla pulls away, tries to keep them apart because she Knows any more pressure on that mind is going to break them apart.

Wendy Spector dies and the Hippo system is thrown out of balance.

(The rage ignites. She's always held it together - her family after her mother died, her composure when people talked over her and her knowledge of Egypt, her home, now the Hippo system. It's always been up to her and she's resigned and vicious and not holding back.)

Layla makes a judgement call and goes after Harrow alone.

The system recovers. Steven now knows why he exists. He does not flinch from Layla's rage, does not fall for Harrow's twisted philosophy, not like Marc or Jake would. He rallies the system to action, to save the world.

Harrow was able to get dirt on Marc's past and tries to kill him with Judgement, but it doesn't work. He reveals about Khonshu, that his partner is lying to him and it does strain the relationship.

Things follow canon. Khonshu gets sealed into stone. Layla dies and Marc blends in as a follower.

Tawaret tries to ask him to be her Avatar, but he refuses. "Do you know what I did as a child to my brother? What my mother did to me over and over for it? Why would you even want me to defend women and children?"

And he releases Khonshu. "Ah. Big pigeon! No wonder Layla was so bloody ready to be rid of you! Get back to her then! Go on!"

And Tawaret comes back. "Temporary Avatar. I don't want any more voices in my head than I started with."

And he becomes Hippo Knight, because why not?

And they win against Harrow and the cult of Ammit. The system helps Layla stop giving into her rage to kill Harrow. Everyone should be able to choose good or evil.

(Steven kept in contact with the patients and nurses in the psych ward. Harrow is preaching violence again and well. He made his choice. Jake drives Layla over to meet with him. Marc holds her tight.)

[sublimecatgalaxy]

elliot euphoria, prompt 10 please? tysm :)

Of course beautiful, I'm actually back in my fike phase so this is perfect timing!! Also thanks for being the only participant! You get an award 🥇

"Hey," Elliot steps into the bathroom, brows drawn together tightly, "you okay?" He asks, lowering himself down onto the floor beside me, nudging me with his hip as his arm wraps around me to rest on the tub behind us.

"My friends left, I don't have a way to get home." I whimper, burying my face in my hands, surely smudging my makeup all over my eyes and cheeks. He tuts, squishing me briefly to his side before rubbing my arms soothingly.

"What assholes." He chastises and sends me a soft smile, dark eyes flickering back and forth between my teary ones. "Hey, if it makes you feel better, all of my friends left too."

"Why are people leaving us? We're so cool." I whimper, the alcohol in my system only making me more pathetic and worsening the abandonment issues dwelling in my brain right now.

"That's right." He laughs, head tilting cutely at me as he reaches over to drag his thumb beneath my eyes, collecting the teary mascara collecting on my skin. "Are you a little drunk?" He asks kindly.

"A lot-tle drunk." I snort, taking a deep breath and pulling the edge of my dress further down my thighs with a deep, disappointed huff.

"Alright." He sighs, leaning away from me to reach into his pocket, pulling out his keys and jangling them in front of my face. "I can drive you home if you want? Or we can just camp out on this random persons bathroom floor?" He offers and my chest rumbles in laughter as I lean into him.

"The tub would be more comfortable." I mutter, reaching over to pat the porcelain behind us as he chuckles once more, tightening his grip protectively around my shoulder as my eyes shut. I feel like I'm wobbling back and forth even though I'm completely stable, Elliot's hands grounding me.

"You're funny. I like you." He grins and if I wasn't spinning right now, I'd attempt to kiss him but I know damn well that if I try right now, my aim will be completely off.

"I like you." I hiccup, tucking my head into his shoulder. "You won't leave like the rest of them right?" I ask, intertwining our fingers as he nudges my chin up so he can look down at me.

“Hey, look at me. I'm not going anywhere.” He grins as if it's the simplest thing in the world and he gives me a simple shrug. "I literally have no where else to be but right here." His words warm my heart, my nausea and headache dissipating momentarily as he laughs. "Or in the tub."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the heart @vampviolets@haylee-e @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife

@officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @witxhy-lexx @minjix @luvroseee @tee-swizzle @savageneversaw @admiringlove @hysteriahall @piceous21 @starlightandfairies @igotmajordaddyissues @drewstarkey-wife1

[blues-of-randomness]

Jotting down my thoughts/favorite moments for Gobb 6 as I watch Th3Badd3st's stream vod

how long can Flynn sleep for and has he always been this lazy??

One thing I will say, the music is so much better

I think Toadster had some abandonment issues he needs to work out

"I was found the by the Queen and Bittergiggle and a few others" Interesting...

"Be careful up there!" "SHUT THE FUCK UP-"

Apparently there's a weird void pig thing now??

Is toadster legitmately just a gas-lighter now or was he just holding out on the fact that HE imprisoned Banbaleena so that she'd be on their side, Also "Incredibly clever, Good at what he does, and he's very handsome." Toadster, honey, You're ego is showing

BANBALEENA IS MRS MASON???

I saw this whole chair puzzle part when I tried watching it live and I just wanna say I love Ty's performance as Bittergiggle and how he just watches us do the puzzle while having no knowledge of what's going on just like us

I actually really like the Dadaroo voicea nd the fact you can hear the kids calling out "DADA!" at some points

Why is Flynn even smaller now?!

"How do you even talk?! Jellyfish have no brain!" I love this line, I like Flynn but I'm sick of hearing him whine

Did the seriously tease the torn in half Bittergiggle clone just for an anitclimatic agurment??

This did open up a rabbit hole of questions though. So the bittergiggles ARE made up of two halves like we orginally thought and they can talk as two as seen with that Bittergiggle...then why do 3 of the bittergiggles only talk as one? Is one half talking and they other staying silent for some reason?? can they only talk as two if they're split apart?

Bitterggigle coming in clutch to save us and that scream of pain was PERFECT!

am I the one that thinks the delivery on "Hold up, let's stay together.." was adorable. I know he's supposed to be dizzy but they way he says it sounds like he's talking to a small child (in an affectionate way) and it just sounds so cozy

although the minigame with the lights is a lot to pay attention to, it's kinda creative

The naughty one's laughed at Bittergiggles joke that's so wholesome-

Awww kittysaurus is Bittergiggles friend!

so the pipes drained Flynn of his Givanium...ok that makes sense?

"Quit whining, you're not the only one." Look who's talkin Flynn

I feel like these "flashbacks" of Flynn's are just hims dissociating and trying to dream of a normal day out with his friends but it keeps turning into a nightmare

i kinda enjoy the little emotion in Banban's "THE CAPTAIN GOT KIDNAPPED!" and "NABNAB!" it's so satisfying to hear fsr-

also did Nabnab try to chase after the bus and they got hit??

......and then we get obliterated by a bus....

The lollipop collecting was another part I saw while trying to watch it live but the lil guys are so cute, I'll just call them "Mini zolphius twins" until we learn their names

Mr kabob man saying "bird up" sounded so funny-

I....Almost got legitmately upset thinking we killed little beak...but thank god they're ok!

HOW MANY FREAKING CLONES DID BITTERGIGGLE MAKE!? There were 4 perfectly good clones that i *thought* where shown in the release trailer why not use them??

BANBAN MUTATED NABNAB!? WE WASN'T HUNTING US DOWN!?

Bittergiggle just went down the sewerslide cause they appreciated his jokes-

I....have more questions than answers....can Dadadoo corrupt people?? or something....

I had really hoped this chapter would be the jumpstart I needed for my rewrite but I'm just more confused...

[pretty-chaotic-world]

if my BPD can scream

1. I wish i could have a normal love... but no, my brain wants to worship every little detail of you until it drives me insane

2. sorry i pushed you away i felt abandoned and suicidal 

3. I’m sick of going to bed and knowing things won’t be better tomorrow 

4. I'll ask you thousands times if you really love, please don't get annoyed

5. I'll create "drama" and mishaps only to feel like I'm in home

6. i’m afraid that one day my anger will overshadow the little love i still have left for the world

7. I feel numb. No tears, no anger, nothing. Just going through the same day again and again. I would rather just sleep without waking up.

8. I'm so tired of everytime one small argument or inconvenience breaks out I want to end it and self destruct, it's so draining. 

9. I want to stop feeling anything and when i actually don't it breaks my heart but I can't cry it out.

10. "its all in your head" well duh where tf else is it gonna be??? in my fucking kidneys????

11. I am constantly between wanting people to care about me and wanting them not to so I can hurt myself without feeling guilty 

12. Psychiatrist told me there is no cure for bpd and I've to change myself. Well why cant they just let me die then?

13. Until you live with bpd you'll never know what it's like to be too much and not enough at the same time.

14. i know im constantly too much for everyone but sometimes i just want to be enough for someone

15. if he will leave me, my next diagnosis will be of "sociopath"

16. im so jealous of all the people who see him and touch him and talk to him every single day it should be me me me me 

17. oh I got my hair coloured. why? because I can't hurt myself anymore 

18. "you're so distant" because you can't handle my abandonment issues.

19. My younger self disappoint me a lot. like why were you begging people to stay in your life? ohh no worries I know the answer

20. I wanna throw a plate against the wall, stab a knife through my hand, destroy my laptop with a hammer, smash my door in with an axe and spray graffiti all over the walls of my room 

21. Why shouldn’t I be mad? Why can’t I just be angry and be allowed to feel it? Why can’t I burn everything down?

22. I have to watch my mouth every fucking second to make sure I don't destroy every relation I have coz apparently social life matters!!

23. Isnt it fucked up how he got away with every horrible thing he made me experience and I’m the one who has to live with myself feeling absolutely fucking worthless 

24. I don't deserve food and love. im a horrible person.

25. this is how my eating cycle goes

feeling weak coz i haven't ate anything -> eat -> purge -> feeling guilty after purging -> eat more -> feeling guilty after eating so much -> cry coz you don't know what's happening

26. the diagnosis makes me believe I'm not insane just lil emo ig!! NOOOO YOU'RE INSANE

27. “don’t let it bother u” baby i’m gonna be bothered by this for the next 10 years 

28. if I tell you I love you its equivalent to I can kill someone for you

29. Actually upon further inspection that shit really hurt my feelings 

30. I don't dive into insecurity anymore, i drown in self-loathe

31. i shut up in between group convo coz I know I'll talk invaluable shit and nobody really cares what I say until it's psychology class

32. "if you are fully aware of yourself, why do you keep acting like that?" slapping self awareness on top of bpd only grants the ability to watch yourself self-destruct straight from the vip section thats all it does literally

33. “Where do you see yourself in the future” building a cult for mentally ill people 

34. ofc I've a praise kind i was ignored as a child

35. I'm much better than I was before. you know why coz I don't to air now and don't see monsters walking by side all the time

36. No I don't want to self harm anymore I need to kill that fucking monster

37. Don't mind me, I'm just casually sabotaging all my positive relationships with negative delusions because my life doesn't feel real unless something dramatic and destructive is constantly occurring 

38. i don’t care i don’t care i don’t care (im going to sob my fucking eyes out)

39. “Stop making your disorder your personality” I have a fucking personality disorder for god sake

40. turning my mental illnesses into kinks and calling it the BDSM-5 

41. "destroy something precious while you're in rage" ohh yeaa and then I'll do that again and again 

42. what I hate most about my BPD is the fact that I have started doubting every emotion that I’ve ever felt in my life, whether it’s love, my grief through multiple traumas, or my anger, & it’s so saddening. It has actually led me to start questioning my reality.

43. if I need medication to stay alive, am I really meant to be here?

44. it's either be alone without 75% of my symptoms, or be with someone and display the most horrendous unstable awful version of myself. why do i have to choose between love & happiness or peace & stability?

45. That fucking bpd rage where everyone's voices makes you want to scream and every noise around you makes you want to sh and you're so mad you can almost feel the cuts everywhere 

46. getting worked up to the point of becoming physically ill (throwing up/stomach issues etc) because you felt rejected/abandoned by your favourite person  

47. i wish my trauma made me kind as everyone says but i’m becoming what i fear the most- a monster.

48. imagine getting diagnosed with a personality disorder and the only visible representation of that disorder is an animated horse man, a sociopathic sitcom character from philadelphia, and darth vader

[prettybbychim]

there’s this thing i’ve noticed on ao3 since i’ve started posting stuff again. like i post a chapter, it’s been about a month since then, someone comments smth like “hey was wondering if ur gonna update or if you’ve abandoned it”

my guy it’s been a Month

it takes me a month to get about 10k out (which seems to be my average word count for my chapters) if and only if i’m writing everyday and im running into minimal issues

this fic in particular i have this written in like 2 places

ironically enough, this is a revamp of an actual abandoned work lol

it’s just strange to me because it hasn’t been long at all. i know there’s some popular authors that can churn stuff out on the daily or have a regular schedule and that’s good for them. they probably have a backlog of content, it’s probably all finished or nearing it and they’re posting in stages. or they’re a speed demon and have abilities us mortals cannot comprehend

i’m too impatient to do that stuff lol if i have a good thing going, i wanna share and yeah, sometimes updates are few and far between but that’s just how i roll lol might be bad for the numbers or whatever but im trying really hard not to give a shit about that lol

i’m not angry i wanna make that clear, i’m just perplexed lol (a little frustrated) like i’d expect this kind of question after a year or smth, but a month?

honey pls i don’t even work rn i’m at home near 24/7 dealing w health issues and i can write all fucking day long if i so pleased and im still not going to get stuff done in under a month for a large variety of reasons (editing, sending it to my beta, reworking scenes, rearranging scenes, first draft and the many between the final draft, just to name a few), pair that with my adhd and frequent flitting between whatever topic is the shiniest to me at the moment. i have 7 fics im actively working on. nothings really getting done but stuff is progressing at a relatively slow rate because of it

and sometimes you just need a break. like a real break. shutting my brain off for a good week or so

i’m aware that my readers don’t know this and they can’t know this unless they follow me on here and i happen to be talking about it lol

but still, a month? have you abandoned it?

honey pls i just started it! it’s been a month. give a guy some slack here. we’re human and busy and stressed and first and formost, we’re doing this for fun

fortunately, in my case, these comments don’t upset me. rather, they make me want to write that fic out of spite like fuck u it’s not abandoned look at me making so much goddamn progress on it

most people are not like me. they will get discouraged. i can’t keep up, is it even worth trying when im disappointing my readers over and over again?

then that fic u like so much might actually become abandoned.

this is not encouragement. even for me who might be spurred into writing that one work, it’s not positive encouragement.

i’m so so happy you like my work enough to inquire about it, but this is not the compliment you think it is.

[remyfire]

BEFORE THE BEGINNING — three sentences (or more) about something that happened before the plot of my current project 💜💜💜

No Excuses Writing Meme (I got excited. I'm so sorry)

It's a rare, slow night. He's sprawled on his cot, legs hanging over the edge, a beam from the sunset cutting across his pillow just barely out of range of his eye. The pervasive scent of tobacco grows yet more potent with the flick of a pocket lighter on the other side of the tent, and as it tickles his nose, it carries his attention away from the clipboard on his chest and up, up, up into the canvas ceiling.

Not for the first time, he asks himself why he's doing this.

More than anything, he loves stomping on an equilibrium with his freakishly large boots. He's known ever since he was a kid pouring chocolate pudding in his brother's diaper that if there's a set of rules, manners, societal expectations, or demands—unspoken or not—put on his shoulders, he's going to cheerfully fling them into the stratosphere with a big, big smile. Sometimes it's for fun. Sometimes it's to get a rise out of somebody. But most often, it's about enjoying the chaos that begins seeping into the air as people realize that what they believed was indelible is, in fact, easily smeared. That lovely look in their eyes, cagey or relieved. Their growing understanding that the door was never locked in the first place—that they only believed it was because that's what they were told. It's fucking intoxicating.

He has had only one sacred, untouchable rule in place for the past six fucking years. One. And he's about to throw it out the window.

"Who pissed in your oatmeal this morning?"

"Your daddy and his fat dick," he tosses back to his bunkie absently.

"Fuck off. Love the new carpeting, by the way." As his bunkie walks around, his boots crush the dozens of crumpled balls of paper scattered all over. "You want me to get started on razing the goddamn forest for you?"

"Almost done. Hey, if you're waiting on me, you might as well go. Just save me a spot, huh?"

Predictably, there are no complaints, not when there's a fresh batch of impressionable corpsmen with money to burn. The moment the door shuts, he heaves a sigh and sits up and shrewdly considers the clipboard. In this world, there are things that deserve to be toppled, and there are the rare things that deserve to stay at rest. He tries to imagine telling himself ten years ago that he'd ever have a rule to leave somebody alone, can practically feel the spit splattering on his face from Younger Him's guffaw.

Right there, right under his pericardium, there is an old, familiar ache beginning to creep in.

All right, that's it. He signs his name with a flourish, then impatiently blows it dry. I'm not fucking anything up. He folds it unevenly and shoves it into an envelope. This is not a big deal. He doesn't even have to reference anything to fill out the destination—might as well be tattooed on his brain after he heard the news a couple of weeks back. I don't even know why I'm wasting this much energy. Jesus Christ. It's a letter.

Crunch, crunch, crunch. He goes out of his way to step on as many of the abandoned notes as possible just to buy himself a little more time. But eventually he's sauntering across the compound all the way to the office with not a soul looking to distract him further.

The clerk's got his muddy boots up on the table as he leans back in his chair, thumbing through the latest smutty novel that was traded into camp.

He tosses the letter in front of him. "Outgoing."

"The bag's two steps that way," the clerk mutters, eying the envelope like it might explode.

"You don't get paid to sit there and jerk off, sweetheart," he drawls cheerfully as he leans against the wall and cocks his head. His grin slowly widens as the clerk uses the spine of the book to nudge the letter across the desk and into the mail bag, and the huff of relief he hears when it lands without issue is almost better than a good fuck. "You coming to the poker game?"

"I learned my lesson last time after those sandwiches."

Ah, that was a good night. He'd thought the whole table might start breathing fire in between the coughing and the tears. "All right, your loss." He pushes himself back to his full height and shoves his hands in his pockets as he slinks toward the exit.

"Hey, Bardonaro, are you the asshole who cut out these goddamn pages and glued them back in the wrong order?"

With a brightly whistled tune, Leo ducks through the door without so much as a backward glance.

[greetings-humans]

this has already been said a million times but ig some people never got the memo so here I am.

when a fic updates and it's been a while (be that a month, a semester, a year, multiple years, a fucking decade or maybe several of those) YOU DON'T SUDDENLY GET A FREE PASS TO BE AN ASSHOLE TO THE AUTHOR

some things for your consideration:

the fic author is not paid for this creative effort and also needs to spend time actually supporting themselves financial

the fic author is not a robot that cranks out creative material. breaks are needed, sometimes people leave fandoms and come back much later. it is human and it is natural. some people can't completely obsess over one single fic consistently and also write stuff for it, and thus cannot consistently give you chapters. sometimes, "consistently" also means not as soon as you'd like. please find your brain from the lost and found and realize that if someone is updating and has not abandoned their fic, that is an absolute win and definitely not a given

the fic author is a human being that just so might wanna engage in hobbies and relationships (platonic and/or romantic), which takes time

you should keep in mind that it takes a lot of fucking brainpower to have an idea, like the idea, decide to write the idea, find the time to write the idea, find the inspiration to continue said idea, ACTUALLY FUCKING WRITE THE IDEA, and find it in yourself to publish it

you are entitled to nothing. actually, since I'm a nice, empathetic person, I'll ammend that. the only thing you might be entitled to is an edit at the tags saying 'fyi next chapter is gonna take a while'. you deserve no explanation. I deserve no explanation. if the author comes back after years to update I will go to the comments and tell them how surprised and happy I am and then talk about the fic. be a bit more like that please

if you don't like the updating frequency, consider DOING IT YOUR FUCKING SELF (and talking about it with the fic author if you got inspired by said fic, and definitely giving credit).

if you don't like the updating frequency, consider NOT READING OR COMMENTING ON THE FIC or just maybe READING A DIFFERENT FIC (don't like don't read is always in effect babes, this is fanfiction, if i started saying shit under every fic with a premise that made me grimace I'd have made so many people and myself so upset)

this is not one of those cases where you can make it other people's problem. the author has every right to take as much time as they fucking want. I don't see you writing this exact fic in their exact circumstances, so kindly shut up

okay, for real, though. you can't know. the author could be going through anything, including but not limited to childbirth, divorce, grief, mental health issues, physical health issues, schoolwork (not everyone is an academic genius samantha, let people take their time), friendship/romance drama. they could also, fyi, just wanna take a break. nothing wrong with that. it's actually the recommended course of action to avoid burnout in case you hadn't heard. literally who do you think you are to take an issue with that? their fucking publisher? do you have a deadline to meet harold? is your pay based on this? what was that? no? okay cool then shut it.

how fucking dare you complain about how fast a literal human being with an entire life outside of fanfiction can write literally so many words about something new.

btw this is what inspired all of this

one of my favorite fics updated after... well three months maybe? and I spot this in the comment section as I go to drop my own comment. literally how dare you. do you understand how discouraging and infuriating it is to see some random person say this about your brainchild?? im glad you're liking the fic berryl but if you have an issue with the time between updates, keep it to yourself, read another fic, or write your own fic.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

ok hold on so this doesn't really star moth childe in it at all because i was hyperfocused on one (1) really specific idea because i got inspired by a playlist but i wanted to throw it at you anyways and see where reader might meet fl childe (since yk, wow i haven't written that much for most of my essays for SCHOOL lol and now my brain is tired)

you had been best friends as kids. neighbours. your parents were close, so it wasn't as if you had a choice. you'd rather have died than been bored out of your mind, trying not to interact with him. but you quickly found out he was very nice and fun to talk to. in fact, the two of you frequently got scolded for wandering out of the house and getting into trouble. so understandably, when he disappeared one day, you were devastated. where had your friend gone? hadn't the two of you promised to be friends for life? you spent most of those days shut away in your room, beginning and crumpling up many letters that were never quite good enough for your taste. all you wanted was to write a letter that contained your feelings towards the matter, maybe even containing all the words left unsaid that had never left the tip of your tongue. and yet, nothing was good enough.

... maybe you weren't good enough. maybe you were the issue. was that why he had left you? was that why ajax had abandoned you? you'd always had ajax, so there wasn't any need to talk to anyone else. you didn't need another friend when you already had a best friend. you were all alone now. and for the fifth time that day, you broke down into tears. you were tired. tired of the gaping hole in your heart, the lead weight on your chest, and the endless grief. was it something you could have fixed? did you miss it? could you have seen it coming? maybe you could have stopped him.

when you heard of his return three days later, no one could stop you bolting of the house to see him, not even bothering to put shoes on. he was back! would he be happy to see you? did he miss you? where did he go? "ajax!" you yelled, your voice trembling with excitement. "welcome home, i missed you so much, where--"

your best friend was different now. he held himself higher, more confidently. it was clear he had matured much faster than you in only the span of three days. he shrugged your grip off of his arm before you could finish your sentence, and stared at you with a strange look in his eyes, one you had never seen before. and now that you had a good look, he was taller now, wasn't he? "i'm fine. archons, why is everyone so worried? i'm fine. leave me alone, now. i need some time to myself."

you stared at him as he walked away, back to his house, hurt in your eyes. "ajax!-- wait, where are you going? don't leave me here, please, don't leave me here alone again..."

his family could tell how betrayed you felt, his mother even grabbing him by the arm and reprimanding him. "ajax! they're your best friend for crying out loud! did i raise you to be this impudent and rude? did i raise you to have no respect for others' feelings? i know i raised you better than this. you will get back here right now and apologise to y/n, okay? no excuses."

ajax broke free of his mother's grip, glaring at her. "i can do what i want. don't try to stop me."

to everyone's dismay, after the three days of hurt and pain and suffering, you'd had enough. "it's okay. let him go. i... don't think i'll be coming around anymore. thank you for all you have done for me."

the defeat in your tone was enough to stave away the unspoken protests as you walked away. it was clear you had made up your mind. and you kept your word. even when you heard of all the fights he had been getting into, you tried your very best to ignore them and keep to yourself. you didn't care about the rumours that spread anymore. you just wanted everyone to stop talking to you about him. you didn't want to hear about what he was doing, or who he'd gotten into a fight five hours ago. all you wanted was a life without him. he had broken your heart and trust beyond repair, and you wouldn't be giving him another chance to hurt you. even when your parents told you how his father had sent ajax to be conscripted into the fatui, you merely shrugged, and headed back into your room. you told no one how much it hurt to ignore him, to pretend like he didn't matter to you anymore. but you had to. otherwise, how could you ever be truly free from his grip? even when the 5th harbinger of the fatui inducted ajax into the fatui, you ignored the news and continued on your way.

years later, you thought you were finally free from his grip. you had moved overseas to inazuma, where you thought that the isolated nature of the nation would keep you safe. preferring maximum isolation, you lived in a little handmade wooden hut in chinju forest. you had chopped down the cuihua trees yourself, and lived mostly off of the sweet flowers, lavender melons, crabs, berries, mint, seagrass, and sakura blooms. it was a lonely existence, but safe nonetheless. things were going well, even after the sakoku decree was lifted. that is, until the test of courage was announced. some days after the initial announcement, you found yoimiya (good, she was a sweetheart and deserved all the firework sales) and ajax (bad, he hurt you once and you wouldn't allow it again).

playing it nice, you first greeted yoimiya and told her you hoped she was doing well. then you turned to ajax, glaring at him. "what are you doing here?" you hissed, wanting nothing to do with him.

but ajax merely laughed. "haha, what's with the foul attitude, y/n? i was just talking with yoimiya about what inazuman souvenirs i'll bring back for my siblings. i happened to be passing through inazuma while taking care of some... work. i wanted to grab some presents for my younger siblings while i was here, but i couldn't decide on what to buy. teucer once told me that he wanted to hold an onikabuto, so i decided to catch one of those little bugs first. as i was looking for onikabuto in the forest, i saw a child playing all on his own, and he was headed straight for a camp of monsters. so i sotpped the child, dealt with the monsters, and then he led me back to yoimiya. after that... well, i was designated as the "anti-mujina specialist." it's a shame the kids' parents came and took everyone back home, saying that they'd had enough adventures outside," he sighed. "our hunt for the youkai came to an abrupt end. the ship i'll be leaving on will arrive in inazuma will arrive in just a few days. then it will be my turn to head back home."

you tried your hardest not to hide the way your heart leaped at the sound of your name rolling off his tongue again. after all these years, and he still had you wrapped around his finger. hurt or not, you knew he had the power to convince you to do just about anything, given enough time. "i... ...you remember me," you said quietly, swallowing down all the anger hidden inside you.

"why wouldn't i? you left so suddenly that day, i never got a chance to say goodbye to you when i left. that's gotta hurt, being left all alone like that, you know?"

his voice was teasing, but you weren't. "ahem, yoimiya, can... can we have some time alone please?"

the two of you found a place close by and resumed your talk. "i left you alone? ajax, where were you for those three days? you shrugged me off like i meant nothing to you. do you even know how upset i was? how hard it was to pretend like i didn't still care about you, like you didn't still mean something to me? i wasn't aware at the time, but i was in love with you ajax. as much as it hurts to admit it, i still am. even after all these years of escaping from you, you still have me wrapped around your finger, and i hate it."

you turned around to leave, but stopped to say one more thing. "i want nothing to do with you, ajax. leave me alone, please."

but your childhood best friend would have none of that. "wait, y/n."

"what do you want, ajax?" you spat his name out like it was the name of a demon, frustrated.

"you falling for me was inevitable. we were best friends, after all. as for what i want... you. i want you, y/n."

aaaahh everything you send me is a masterpiece, my dear... i've been hoarding this for a while but i think now is the right time to answer it (also this got kiiiinda personal so just bear with me akdjns)

"you want me?" you wrench your hands from his grasp, resolutely ignoring the way he reaches for you. "i don't even know you anymore, Ajax, let alone trust you- i don't trust anyone anymore, because of what you did. because i don't ever want to feel like that again- like my heart has been ripped from my chest and stomped on by someone i love." you're crying now, wrapping your arms around yourself for stability and staring at the ground, unable to see how Ajax's eyes soften at your distress

"starlight..."

you stubbornly look away, gnawing on your lip to keep the sobs from slipping out. "just go home... Ajax..." your voice trails off as you look up, eyes widening at the monster that's taken his place- towering over you and adorned with night-colored armor, a splash of red taking up his face and twin horns

he approaches and you instinctively back away, heart pounding, and the monster that is Ajax lets out a low whine, laced with sadness. he kneels to your height, even lower to show that he's not a threat, slowly extending his dagger-sharp claws to wipe away the tear streaks on your cheeks. but they're only replaced with more as you begin crying in earnest, standing still to allow this other form of Ajax to gently swipe away the droplets, crooning to you, meltingly soft. he dares not come closer, only clasping your hands delicately in his talons and bringing them to his mouth to plant a careful kiss on them, then leaning against your palms. through your tears you can hear a growling voice quietly whispering, murmuring words into your skin

i'm sorry. please don't cry. i love you