#so basically for no discernible reason

[frnkiebby]

that fucking face i can’t~🎃

[the-real-daddy-van-der-bellen]

can someone tell me why now that my depression has been managable for like a year or so, I seem to have aquired an anxiety disorder

[pinkfey]

decided to give a movie video review written by a 🤢 a man 🤮 a shot and it was such a poorly articulated review i feel the need to watch the movie myself

[vyvesvi]

i'm not gonna pretend new jeans' music is bad but it's quite clear at this point that unless they make a serious change every adult in that company is going to hell

[silverislander]

i feel like i'm losing my mind rn i slept for 3hrs last night and now i'm trying to get my assignments finished and like. i'll get one thing started and immediately have a wave of anxiety so strong i can physically feel it in my body. i take 10mins or more to calm down to a level that is Still above normal and try to get back at my work only for it to happen again less than five minutes later

[annabelle--cane]

not enough stories go for the lycanthropy-as-menstruation angle tbh. sure I see plenty of "time of the month" jokes but there's so much unexplored potential. scatterbrained werewolf feeling cranky and exhausted for no discernible reason before checking their phone and seeing the "your transformation is in two days" notification like "oohh right. the horrors." werewolf girl losing her whole mind trying to excuse herself from a function so she can go transform but noooo she can't just say that's what she has to do because it's "impolite" or whatever and she has to keep making vague excuses with weird euphemisms. werewolf guy having an awkward conversation with an acquaintance who keeps talking about the divine lycanthropic and the mystic properties of the wolf and moon, and like, he's not going to tell them that their relationship with their own transformations is wrong, but for him it's just this kind of annoying kind of painful thing he needs to deal with sometimes? and it feels weird elevating this basic bodily function of his to something quasi religious?

[writing-makes-me-human]

Charming Killer: 2

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Pairing: Neteyam x reader

PART ONE PART THREE

Summary: Neteyam confronts his fears of the scientists compound in his attempts to reach you. He’s all over you the second he see’s you and while you don’t really know what he’s saying it doesn’t fail to have an effect on you.

Warnings: I basically turned him into a cat unintentionally. 

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: I did not proof read this very well cause I was working on multiple fics then realised I had nothing to post! She’s as good as it gets rn kids sorry.

┕━»•» 🌺 «•«━━━━━┙

A week had passed since Neteyam had dropped you off at the laboratories on the outskirts of his village, and a lot had happened since then.

After Neteyam left, you were escorted into the premises by Max, who turned you over to Norm for fixing.

Norm had patched your arm up with gauze paired with a paste made from the wilds of Pandora, and he was delighted to finally put a face to the voice he had been hearing through the comlink for over a year.

The consensus from everyone was that you had been lucky Neteyam had found you. The bullet hadn't passed through your lower arm, and with a quick extraction, you were on the road to healing, surrounded by the reasonably happy group of rebel scientists you had been feeding information to from the compounds of the RDA these past months.

As your arm healed, you grew closer to Max and helped him run the station as much as he would let you when you weren't meant to be resting. This still left a lot of time in the day, so you started to shadow either Max or Norm and tried asking as much as possible about the Na'vi people as you learned the trades needed to keep the station afloat.

You had built up a routine for day-to-day life, and while it was boring, helping the native people and their planet is what you had risked your life for. It's why you wouldn't see Earth again, and it's why you were here.

The mundane work was mostly upkeeping the lab from weather and fixing any technical issues you were qualified for. Still, occasionally, Norm would let you discern things he had brought back from outside while he had been in his avatar. It made your heart sink as you knew that no matter what, you couldn't go back out there with the threat of everything being nearly twice as significant as you and twice as deadly.

Norm was actively showing off his hobby of teaching now, and it felt awkward to have this heavy feeling in your chest while Norm looked like a kid in a candy store as he held up the flower to you and pointed out the different attributes and what they were used for with a pair of tweezers.

You nodded and occasionally asked questions, but this quiet learning moment was interrupted when Max tore into the room with sweat running across his forehead. He must have sprinted across the entire compound.

"We have an issue", he finally managed to gasp out, and you immediately turned to Norm, who, as swiftly as he could, placed down the flower onto the sterilized tray behind him and set off after Max with you in tow.

"What's the matter?" Norm nervously asked as his eyes darted around, seeing the rest of the human residents were somewhat uneasily watching you three nearly sprint to the opening hatch that led to the vast plains of Pandora.

"Y/n, you've got a guest", Max coughed out with an awkward laugh as your eyes widened in curiosity.

Your trio rushed to reach the containment hallway, which was the only barrier between your oxygenated environment and the deadly poisonous gasses of the alien planet.

All of you were entirely out of breath once you approached the spot, and you could feel your arm cry out as you stepped inside the room just outside of the airlock.

Your eyes widened in happiness as you saw your savior awkwardly taking a device that was attached to his side and bringing it to his face. Neteyam took a deep breath with his eyes shut before his eyes fluttered open again and immediately found you a few feet in front of him.

A few scientists below him tried to advise him of a few safety briefings in Na'vi so he didn't go around smacking things over. Still, he completely turned a blind eye to them and he stepped over the woman who yelled out for him to come back. Neteyam happily ignored her as he shuffled towards your more petite figure with a grin. Norm and Max backed up immediately as the giant man came towards them.

Neteyam placed a hand on the roof to steady himself before he lowered himself to speak with you face to face. You smiled as his bright yellow eyes connected with yours, enjoying the familiar connection after so long apart.

"Neteyam!" You yelled out and leaped forward to give him a polite hug of endearment around his waist. Your touch immediately knocked the air out of him, forcing him to pick up the device again and lift the clear plastic mask to his mouth in order to get more of his indigenous air into his lungs.

After you pulled back, he responded by saying your name to you with a quirk in his ears as a sound in one of the distant labs caught his sense's attention.

You laughed merrily and then turned around to see that everyone was eyeing you both with astonishment. Perhaps being so friendly with the Na'vi had been a bit odd, but he had saved your life after all, and how were you supposed to know that this was the first time any of the scientists had seen Neteyam allow a sky person other than Spider to touch him? Even though on several occasions it was quite literally life or death.

"Uh, can you guys give us the room?" Max called to the other two foreign researchers in the room in hazmat suits.

They wasted no time in nodding and taking off, shutting the metal door behind them with the selected password to prevent any outbreaks. None of the regulars were used to seeing this son of Jake Sully's, and it was clear they were more than happy to steer clear from the hunter.

The silence that followed the departure was unnerving, and you felt the tension in the room spike as you spotted Neteyam's deadly longbow laid across the table behind him, probably at the demands of the other two who had greeted him at the door.

"So, uh, why are you here?" You asked, feeling the duo pair of eyeballs burning into the back of your head intensify as you continued speaking to Neteyam.

He understood your words and replied in Na'vi, which made you purse your lips as you nodded your head to show you had heard him before awkwardly turning to Norm, motioning for him to tell you what the boy had said.

Norm stuttered over his words for a minute before he replicated the sentence in English.

"He said he missed you and asked if that was a good enough reason", Norm's delivery lacked the mischievous twinkle in Neteyam's eye, but you paired the two together and grinned.

The warrior obviously had a sense of humor when lives weren't at stake, and it made you happy to learn more about the young man. He gazed around the room for a second before he seemed to register Max and Norm's presence, making himself nod at them respectfully before he returned to stare back at your body.

You were utterly at a loss for what to say. The angry man who had first seen you in the woods not long ago was banished from sight, and in his place was this smiley man that still had the means to kill you but had sought you out to simply say hello.

His eyes sparked, and he turned to his hip, digging his hand into a burlap sack he had attached there before he produced his closed fist and held it to you, watching your face peek in interest as his tail flickered madly behind him, hitting the metal walls.

You couldn't help the engrossment you felt, so just as Max was calling out for you to be careful, you pressed your significantly smaller hand into Neteyam's, and in response, he let his hand unfurl to present you with a gift.

It was a red stone that looked like a moving body of water had tumbled it for a long time. The rock shone under the heavy-duty lights above you, and with a timid move, you reached forward and picked it up from his hands, smiling as you thanked him for the gift.

He watched you admire it in your hands as you held it up to the light and stared at it in wonder. Neteyam could get used to amazing you like this.

He leaned one hand on his knee and the other on the floor to steady himself as he gazed at you with wide pupils that tried to take in all of your beauty.

You held the gift to your chest and bowed your head at him, delighting as he copied you without hesitation.

His smile faltered and transformed into an embarrassed throat clearing as his ears fluttered backward. He took his eyes off your figure and stared at the ceiling as his nose sniffed at the air as it had done upon his first meeting with you.

You thought back to the invasive manhandling he had done to you, and in response, you felt a heavy blush consume your face. You bashfully looked at the stone in your hand to avoid Neteyam seeing your face and reading your movements. You turned the beautiful blood-red stone over a few times before slipping it into your pocket and letting the weight drag the fabric of your pants.

Neteyam eyed the individuals behind you with a frown but chose to disregard them. He pressed himself closer to the ground to whisper something to you. He placed his head in front of your plunged face, which was determined not to look up to his eyes, and he softly mumbled something that made your blush deepen.

"Smell you?" His articulation was terrible, but the words still translated to you either way.

If he was being honest, the only reason he hadn't swept you up into his arms the second he saw you was because of the audience he was facing, but your fragrance was once again outpowering his freewill. He desperately needed to feel the fizz you activated in him before he went feral and ripped your clothes off to smell every inch of you.

You glanced behind yourself at Norm and Max, who were both still at a loss for words, but it seemed they were becoming more accepting of your friendship as you spent long minutes basking in one another's presence.

You swallowed nervously but nodded your consent to his touching.

His ears revived back up as he smiled smugly. He adjusted his body so he was sitting crossed-legged in front of you, his knees pressed against the sides of the short hallway, but he didn't care, instead, he focused on your facial expression as you very slightly looked to your left, allowing him a view of your neck.

He slowly inched towards you, giving you plenty of time to pull back and change your mind, but when you didn't, he moved forward, brushed his nose against your bare neck and rejoiced at the fact you still smelt just as strong as you did in his dreams.

He was nearly salivating at the scent, and he selfishly pushed himself deeper into your neck, letting his face push you around slightly while his body shivered at the properties of your touch.

He was doing everything he could not to let his hands roam around your body and investigate where you smelt sweetest, but his euphoric daydreaming was ruined by the sound of Max speaking to you in English.

When you answered back, he felt a sharp electric zap of possessiveness power through him. You were his mate, you weren't meant to be speaking to other men, and you were certainly not told to talk to other single men.

Neteyam growled something over your shoulder to Max and then picked you up gently and rose you to his body so he could set you on his lap. He placed your back against his chest and let his hands entrap your waist to ensure you kept still.

You yelped a little as you suddenly felt your feet leave the ground. Then you let out an 'oof' as Neteyam sat you on his thigh, allowing you to face the other men in the room as he mindlessly returned to bury his head into your neck, forcing your head to an unnatural angle as you nervously chuckled.

"Friendly guy, huh?" You asked the science geeks, but they were both looking at each other with scandalized stares, both more shocked than you had ever seen.

Neteyam’s grip on your waist tightened as he found a hotspot of sweat that was pooling in your neck. The sweet aroma nearly knocked him out with the jolt of pleasure it sent directly to his brain.

Max's jaw dropped while Norm let out an unbelieving chuckle, pointing to your two entangled bodies with an open hand and then back to Max as if to ask what was happening. If it was a competition between who was more aghast, you weren't sure who won.

"This isn't uh...this isn't a greeting used for friends y/n", Max tried to explain while beating around the bush as Norm was still unable to form a single word in English or Na'vi.

Your brow creased in confusion, but then you felt canines gently nip at your neck, and you squeaked as your hand flew up and grabbed onto Neteyam's forearm before you growled out his name in anger at his unchecked drunken actions.

Neteyam's hot breath fanned your neck as he grumbled out another line that nobody had translated to you yet, which worked to push you closer to the edge of frustration.

"What is he saying?" You asked as you squirmed away from his touch, only to have him drag you back into him and gently kiss your neck, making you scream as you let go of your motor functions and thrashed him off.

He pulled his head back with a scowl before once again he said something and let one hand off your waist so he could lightly pull your head back by your hair, allowing him access to freely rub his cheek around your jugular. You choked out at his harsh movements, but neither Norm nor Max seemed too concerned for your safety.

He rubbed his skin against your neck, and for a second, you swore you heard the deep rumbling of a purr thundering across the hallway, but Neteyam quickly cut it off with an embarrassed cough.

"He's uh, well, he's saying a lot", Max was even more flustered than you as he turned to Norm and nodded for him to take over the translation.

"He's trying to tell us to stay away, he's trying to scent you", Norm found his voice, and if you couldn't see the shock and slightly affronted stare he was holding with you through Neteyam's braids, you would have almost thought you were back in the lab and he was explaining the biology of the flower to again.

"Well, can you tell the knucklehead to knock it off?" You huffed with a provoked tinge to your voice as Neteyam let your hair go and returned to his original spot in the crook of your neck.

You would never admit it, not even on your deathbed, but the touch was welcome as his warm skin brushed against you and sent ravenous desire through your soul. The fact you had your colleagues standing in front of you as Neteyam touched you so intimately was really the only problem.

"Do you want us to lose a limb?" Norm tried to joke, but you didn't appreciate his humor.

The feeling of a hot, wet, velvety tongue being dragged from the base of your neck to your jaw made you whine, and the two older men's eyes snapped to Neteyam as you finally decided you had enough of being humiliated.

You ripped yourself from his grip and snapped your head to stare at him angrily, but he only chuckled and his deep voice rumbled through your core as another line came from his mouth. You had no idea what he said, but his hooded eyes and loving smirk tightened your core with a lustful tug.

You spun around again and let your rage spill over.

"Somebody better tell me what he's saying right now before I go crazy!" You yelled. Neteyam let his hands depart from your body and gave you the room to jump from his grip so you could stand with your back to him.

Norm stuck his hands up in mock surrender and shook his head.

"I'm not translating that one", he leaned over and smacked Max on the back for support.

The older man choked on his breath and stumbled to find the right words as Neteyam hungrily eyed your back in front of him.

"He's calling you his muntxa...his mate", Max looked fortified at his words and instantly dropped your gaze as you felt yourself cease entirely to exist.

You turned sharply towards Neteyam, and suddenly the gift, the smelling and the scenting all made sense. You could feel everything in you turn red with blush as you started wildly shaking your head and waving your hands above your head in an 'x' shape which yanked his wandering eyes back to your face.

"No muntxa! No thank you! Find a pretty Na'vi woman, okay? I'm not interested!" You shouted each word louder as if somehow he would be able to understand you if your speech became more pronounced.

"That's not how it works, you can't just turn him down" Norm tried to explain from behind you with an amused huff as Neteyam stared at your outburst in confusion.

He understood most of what you said, but why would you turn him down if you were his mate? There was no questioning that you were his because everything about you was made to draw him in, but it was clear you weren't happy.

His tail paused midair behind him, and he brought it forwards, testing how angry you were by letting the tip of the limb lay by your foot.

You stared down at his tail in curiosity. You let its presence leave your mind as you turned around and asked what exactly you had to do in order to get Neteyam to understand that you couldn't have been his mate because you weren't even the same species. But then you felt the whip-like extremity slowly curl its tip around your ankle.

You went to kick it off, but the tail only slithered further up until it was snugly wrapped around your thigh.

Neteyam's heart sang out as you looked down at the tail without movement, and while in reality, you were too shocked to move, he took it as acceptance and let his large hands creep over to gently grab you again.

"No, Neteyam!" You sternly yelled as his fingers barely grasped your waist.

He let out a long groan as if he were a child being denied a treat by his mother. He couldn't possibly see what the issue was. He pulled his tail back and spoke directly to the human men for the first time since his arrival.

"Why is she so mad, huh? Tell her I'm a good choice for a mate", he couldn't wrap his head around your stubborn unwillingness to let his hands roam where they pleased, and your denial was starting to vex him.

You listened closely as Max translated the interaction between Neteyam and Norm while they spoke to each other in Na'vi.

"It's not that she think's you're a bad choice, she just doesn-", Neteyam's impatience cut off Norm.

"Good, then she can be my mate", he truly saw no issue and was at a loss as to why you weren't all over him in the same manner.

Sure, you were human, and maybe it was odd, but over the week he had been apart from you, he had never felt so lonely, and that loneliness had fueled his courage to take his first steps into the laboratory. He wanted to see you and maybe even take you outside if that was what you wanted, but it was clear you were still getting used to him for now.

"Neteyam, she doesn't know anything about--", Norm was beginning to irritate him, and Neteyam looked over to you as he spoke his following words.

"I will teach her, she will learn", Neteyam didn't care if you didn't know anything. It wasn't of any issue to him.

He would have to protect you with everything he had to keep you safe outside. He wanted you close, and saving you would keep him busy, just how he wanted to be.

Neteyam left the conversation with Norm, much to the scientist's annoyance, and shuffled closer to you, forcing you to stare up at Neteyam as he stared down at you.

"If you want me to leave, I'll leave, but I won't ever come back and you won't see me again", his words were empty, and he knew it, but his hopes were that you wouldn't catch onto his poker face and you would answer in his favor.

Norm took a turn translating for you with a sigh as he knew that Neteyam was lying. The bond between mates was too much to abandon, and while Neteyam had clearly found his points of interest in you, it seemed to be that you hadn't latched onto any intoxicating part of him as quickly.

Your face fell into sadness at the idea of never seeing him again, but you drew your lips closed in thought, trying to debate what exactly to say.

Neteyam took your silence coldly and scoffed as he shook his head in doubt before he turned to leave, but you quickly jumped up and grabbed onto the end of his braid that had nearly smacked you in the face with his momentum.

"Don't leave!" You cried out while the men behind you gasped and quickly called out for you to drop the end of the knot, which you promptly acted in compliance with.

It was Neteyam's turn to freeze at your touch. You could feel that you had done something wrong, so you went to apologize, but when Neteyam's eyes met yours, it was as if he had love hearts in place of his eyes.

He went back to ignoring Max and Norm's attendance as he pushed himself to the floor and gently approached you with open hands so he could snatch you back up and return to his favorite place; your neck.

He didn't stick around long though, and after a quick fill-up of his addiction, he replaced you. He turned to Max to toss a comment at him before he stood up and jogged over to his bow before he swiftly departed as you called out to him, letting out apology after apology in fear it was your touch that had scared him off.

"I'm sorry! Look, I didn't know! Come back here! Ugh, you can't keep your hands off me when I tell you off, and then you won't come near me when I say I'm sorry? What is with you?" You yelled out, but nothing could stop the man as he ducked his head out of the door and set off to close the airlock behind himself.

"I'm confused, what did I do?" You cried out as you spun around, seeking answers, but Max only chuckled at you as he took his glasses off to wipe them on his lab coat.

"He's not mad, he said he has to go hunting for you, it's a Na'vi courting ritual, they bring you as much as they think you're worth in food", he acted as if this was a regular thing to say while you just shook your head in bemusement.

"He realizes I probably can't eat half the stuff out there, right?" You craned your neck to see the young man had already turned tail and was nowhere to be found.

"We'll have to see because there is no doubt he's coming back for you."

:Series 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁:

@faatxma, @nao-cchi @ellabellabus07, @neteyamforlife @wtf-why-do-i-gotta-do-this @heesoftiefreak @lixiesbrowniess  @eringaitskill @islamovice17 @sassy-persona @mashiromochi @jkeluv​ @uwu-i-purple-you​

[cryptotheism]

I don't understand why conspiracy weirdos always take it as given that the "bad guys" will put hints they're abusing children or killing people or whatever in innocent places. Like, why would they do that when they could just... Not do that?

Conspiracy thought can basically be summarized as "everything is connected, without exception"

Eventually, the theorist may be faced with overwhelming information that suggests they are wrong. The only response they have at that point is "You are being paid to fabricate evidence" which raises the question "by who? For what reason?"

See, for most of real history, answering that question is usually pretty easy. It's "the CIA has openly admitted to financially benefitting from spreading this form of propaganda." Or "It would be very embarrassing for the Secret Service if the public learned that an agent accidentally shot JFK."

The real world is banal and complicated and morally grey. But with conspiracy theories, there's no room for "ordinary profit motive" or "human error" because that's never a good story. Conspiracy Theories are deeply emotional things, they need to be a good story.

This is where you get this recurring motif that I call The Great Enemy. It's satanists, it's the illuminati, it's the Jews, it's the deep state, the shadow government, the CIA, the reptilian empire, it's the Ultimate Other that is responsible for everything evil in history.

When your thoughts become "all evil comes from the Great Enemy." It erodes your ability to actually discern real world human motivations. The world becomes a game between The Good Guys and The Great Enemy. Every event, every movie, every book, all become pieces in that game.

It's why so many of these deep conspiracy people talk about the world like it's a giant play, as if all politics is just a big stage show put on for them. It's because once your brain becomes steeped enough in conspiracism, you genuinely lose the ability to tell fact from fiction.

[literaila]

could you write a really fluffy peter Parker fic for Valentine’s Day (with banter ofc)

valentine, oh mine

tasm!peter x reader

a/n: this is not cute or fun or any of the things i aspire to be. it is painful. peter dies (he doesn’t). don’t read this.

*

“will you be my valentine?”

“hello, peter,” you answer, through your toothbrush. the words are deadpan. “i’m doing well, thank you. how are you?”

“better if you answer the question.”

you laugh, letting his response linger for a moment as you try to discern where, exactly, he is. your mouth tastes like spearmint, and it would be perfect to kiss him with. even though it’s monday, and almost midnight, and he shouldn’t be here.

for a whole multitude of reasons (number one being that you know he’ll keep you awake for at least a couple of hours more).

“where are you?” you ask him, listening to ruffling and a whine from the other end.

a manly whine, he might tell you, if you could see his face and make fun of it.

“stop deflecting. you don’t wanna be my valentine?” you can hear the frown.

and then there’s a horn, signaling absolutely nothing.

you spit into the sink, and put him on speaker as you rinse.

“i’ve gotta say that this is one of the more underwhelming valentine proposals i’ve gotten. you’re not even here. instead you’re…” you drawl, “where, again?”

“this is just further proof that i’m always thinking about you,” peter tells you, recalling an argument you’d had the day prior.

about how he wasn’t paying attention to you—or the conversation you were trying to have with him about one of your coworkers—but instead, according to him, thinking about you.

which did not help his case, of course. instead you’d given him the silence treatment for three minutes while he groveled—poorly.

and you doubt that he was thinking about valentine’s day when his eyes were glued to your lips the entire time.

“again,” you tell him, trying to hide the sound of a smile in your voice, “i would rather you just listen to me. answer my question and i’ll answer yours,” you bargain.

“how’s that fair? i asked first.”

“i asked second.”

peter sighs, and there’s a brief pause where he breaks up. you mess with the sound settings to no avail. up or down, his voice is distorted.

“are you—“ his voice wonders. “i was gonna tell you—“ and then a pause. and then. “are you giving me the silent treatment again?”

“cant hear you,” you hum. “somethings wrong with your phone.”

“how do you know it’s mine?” his voice enters again, breaking back and forth. another honking, and silence as he puts himself on mute.

because you’re no fool, and you know that peter would’ve answered the question already—if only to get you to answer his—if he didn’t know that you’d scold him for it.

“cause i can hear the wind while you swing,” you tease, though swallow, your voice is aiding the anger you should feel—because your boyfriend is a liar, and a traitor and you kinda hate him.

but you’re not really angry. you haven’t seen him since he left your house at six in the morning, so that’s probably why.

“i—“ there’s a pause. and then his voice is clear again. “that’s my hairdryer.”

“are you lying to me, peter?”

“it might even be the connection,” he continues, idly. “may’s been complaining about the service but i’ve been too busy to check the box, so—“

“are you still lying to me?”

you can almost see him swallow. “…no?”

“i told you not to call me when you’re out.”

“so you never want me to call you?” he asks, mock hurt. “when i’m not out, i’m always with you. i thought you liked my phone calls, and my voice if my memory serves me. someone really liked it—“

“you know what i mean.”

“do i?”

“peter parker, unless you want me to hang up—“

“okay, okay,” there’s still no swinging. “i’m sorry.”

“no, you’re not,” you whine, sitting on your bed and listening closely so he can’t trick you again.

“i actually am this time,” he swears. “i won’t do it again. but this is a very important matter.”

“swinging while talking is basically like texting and driving, and if i was doing that i’d be getting an earful from you.”

“it’s so not the same thing. first of all, spider senses, please keep up,” he tells you, laughing. “and who am i going to hurt in the open air?”

“a pigeon,” you say, almost angrily. “they’re an endangered species, you idiot.”

“they’re definitely not.”

“okay, then, yourself. who’s going to be my valentine if you slam into a wall and crack your head open?”

peter would not look cute without his skull, you remain firm on this fact.

you can hear his smile. “i knew you wanted to be my valentine.”

“before i knew you were lying to me.”

“you lie to me all of the time,” peter argues.

your brows furrow. “when?”

“when you said that you don’t like it when i call you,” he murmurs, almost soft, still teasing. “i know you do. you miss me.”

“i miss my boyfriend,” you answer, biting back some other remark about how you don’t miss him at all—honestly, you’re trying to prove that you’re not lying. “but apparently i’m talking to a superhero.”

“oh, did i forget to mention that? must’ve slipped my mind.”

“where are you now?” you ask. “it’s quiet.”

and then there’s a tap on the wall to your right.

“peter…”

“yes?”

“is that you?”

“maybe.”

“are you kidding?” you grumble, crawling on your knees to push back the curtains and open the window. you frown as you unlatch it, hands interrupted by other ones, doing the same thing. “how long have you been sitting out here?”

“since ‘are you lying?’ i think.” he says, in a terrible impression of your voice. “it’s cold.”

you pull him in by his wrist, immediately pushing him off when he tries to land on your bed on top of you.

peter pulls his mask off, smiling at you. “hi.”

“i’m mad. go take a shower.”

his fingers tip-toe up your arm, trying to get you to shiver. “are you really?” he hums.

“yes.”

“how can i make it up to you?”

“find me a better, non-lying valentine,” you tell him, pouting as you look away.

“is this supposed to be an answer?”

“why didn’t you just wait?” you ask instead. “if you were going to come here anyway, why didn’t you ask me in person instead of being a disappointment, and breaking a rule?”

“i don’t recall signing a contract…”

you groan, sitting up and crossing your legs as you look at him. unfortunately for you, his hair has fallen over his eyes just right, and you still want to kiss him.

“take me seriously.”

“i take everything you say,” he leans in, “very seriously.”

you push his nose. “you don’t.”

“i do!” he swears, grabbing your hand. “i’m listening. tell me what’s wrong.”

he says this condescendingly, because you already told him—kind of—but he knows that if you have to repeat it, you’ll break.

“this is why they say familiarity breeds contempt.”

peter smiles. “are you feeling contemptful right now?”

you nod.

he leans again, and you cant push him away. “how can i help?”

“you can apologize.”

peter’s smile grows softer as you look at him with eyes of steel, like he finds this version of you cute. your pout and your false anger, all bundled up into one perfect package.

just for him, you suppose.

he leans in some more, “i’m sorry,” he says, softly, just brushing your lips. “i was excited.”

you purse your lips, even while his are soft and teasing against them. it feels kind of like a feather brushing your skin, like peters got his own secret form of tickling you.

teasing you, like he always does. familiarity breeds contempt, and comfort, and confusion, and…

he kisses you fully, this time. a gentle peck. “i wanted to hear your voice,” he admits. “i’m impatient. i should listen to you more.”

“right…” you whisper, with him, as your only form of acknowledgement.

“i won’t call you while i’m out, okay? or i’ll pause somewhere.”

your brows are permanently fixed together. “don’t pause. just… get some headphones, or something.” you let your lips relax, finally, and they fall against his just as a consequence. “i like your voice too,” you admit, quietly, as an afterthought.

peters smile is bashful. “like wireless ones? not sure how that would work under the mask…”

“you made the suit,” you tell him, leaning back. “you cant figure it out, genius?”

“i’ll do it for you, i guess,” he sighs, but his fingertips trace the skin on both of your arms, simply because he’s that close.

“thank you.”

“are we done fighting now?”

you frown, pushing his hands away so you can cross your arms. “no. you really asked me to be your valentine over the phone?”

peter sighs, shaking his head. “i knew i should’ve gone with the skywriting.”

“or,” you say, rhetorically, “i don’t know, maybe a box of chocolates? flowers? a quick ‘hey, will you be my valentine?’ before you left this morning?”

“that’s so lame.”

“so is asking me over the phone.”

“i was excited,” peter argues. “i wanted an answer.”

“well you didn’t get one.”

“yes i did,” he tells you, finally grabbing your arm so he can pull you on top of him (because seriously, this is unfair).

“no.”

“you said i was your valentine,” he reminds you, tilting your head up so you’re looking at him.

“you’re mine,” you tell him, rolling your eyes. “i never said i was yours.”

“wow,” peter murmurs. “that might be the worst thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“please. i called you a vermin to may the other day.”

he pouts, childishly.

“ask me nicely,” you say, after a moment.

“i did.”

“ask me nicely again.”

there’s a pause where two stubborn people meet at a head—literally, head to head—and consider the prospects of losing this battle.

but peter is softer than you are, when you tease a smile on your lips, he breaks. “will you be my valentine?”

“hmm,” you ponder, looking away. “i’ll think about it. i mean, there’s a lot of options to choose from.”

peter bites your nose in retaliation and the two of you laugh until you’re dizzy

*

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hi, I really love your writing. It’s actually incredible how you can write people of the same pronoun and still make it easy to discern the two characters. I was wondering if you have any tips on how to do that without using phrases like “the short one” or anything like that.

1. Use the character's names

I often use 'the protagonist ', 'the antagonist', 'the hero', 'the villain' on tumblr. However, functionally, I use these like names and/or titles.

Using a character name allows you to periodically clarify who is talking or doing something when the reader would otherwise get confused. I know some people take this a step further by actually using 'Hero' 'Villain' as names more literally/directly, but I don't personally like doing that. It jars my brain.

I think 'the hero' etc works as an indicator where 'the short one' doesn't because it's neutral/not providing new info. Traditionally, we often only use physical descriptors when we don't know who a character is, so it creates distance/can jar when used in the middle of a scene. If you are in first person or limited third, there's just not necessarily a reason why your narrator would think of the other character in that way, which is another reason it can feel odd.

Basically, it's a bit like how we don't notice 'said', but would really notice if someone was uttering/shouting/mumbling in every dialogue tag.

2. Use proper paragraphing.

New character doing something, new line. New person talking, new line. New idea/point, new line. Shift in time or setting, new line.

3. Don't be afraid of easy beats

What are easy beats, you say? They are the moments of action or thinking in between dialogue. Body language. Whatever. Even if you don't use 'he/they/she said', because that can get repetitive. They are a way of providing context and variety to your writing, that can often do double work making it clear who is doing or saying something.

Example:

''So this is dialogue," they said.

"Right."

"And you didn't need to say you were talking next, because it was obviously someone else because it was on the next line. And now it's obviously me again. Hi!"

"All well and good until we've been chatting like this forever."

"Well." They stretched out, lazily. "That's what the easy beat that just happened was for. Did you catch me stretching in the middle?"

"But now I'd need a name or some kind of indicator," Character B replied. "Or it feels odd. Too many theys"

"It's all about balance, my friend. The instinct comes with practice."

Character B wrinkled their nose. "But what if I want to talk for a really long time?"

"Well," they said. "Then you can often start with a pronoun use or a character name to establish. Then you make your next point. Try and keep it relatively easy to follow. After that, try to have some kind of easy beat or action happen so the whole thing isn't talking heads." Character A rose towering to their feet, waggling their fingers in another hello. "And, if we're lucky, we never need to say 'the short one said' again, because we can flow our descriptions more naturally into the action.' Now." They sauntered closer, stopping in front of Character A with the worst smirk that B had ever seen. "Shall we ask the audience which of us is taller?"

[mylittleredgirl]

i know some of you have been pressing your faces to the glass waiting for me to see this one in particular SO i saw "the nurses" the other night and am still thinking about it!!

i love love love it when characters get pushed to a point where you can almost see their childhood selves pop out, like are they even talking about what's happening right now? or are their 12-year-old hearts just screaming?? i love that margaret's outburst is both irrational (the hostile work environment is coming from inside the house; i was yelling at my tv "baby it's your fault!!!") and so so honest.

[this turned into a bit of a character thesis, so not only is there a readmore, there will also be a reblog soon with the rest of the post because i maxed out the image limit] [edit: part ii now in the reblogs!]

this whole time, margaret has treated her subordinates with a heavy hand because she thinks it's the right and fair thing to do. the rules say this is how it works!

she maintains a high standard of excellence in brutal circumstances, but she's also reactive, moody, and unforgiving. she's often shown on the edge of losing control and authority, she inflames situations by overreacting, and the thing she punishes most egregiously is disrespect (toward frank, toward the army, toward herself). she intentionally underlines the distance between herself and the other nurses at every turn.

from season 3 "there's nothing like a nurse": [all IDs in alt]

really, everything she thinks and does comes from a place of "they're not supposed to like me," but the childish part of her that is completely unable to see her own behavior is confused and hurt because "i'm just doing my job so why don’t they like me???"

it's her job to maintain discipline, but especially here in 4077-land, she doesn't have to lead with the whip. henry was beloved because he was an overly permissive clown, which will never be her speed, but colonel potter has all the same training as she does. he's loved and respected as the Good Regular Army Guy because he leads with discernment and mutual respect.

it's easier for him. he's more experienced, he's respected and supported from above and below, and he has a calm temperament — which isn't nothing.

from season 4 "the interview":

whether she's aware of this as a problem or not, we at home can see how margaret's inability to control her emotional reactivity causes her as much grief as her inability to control other people.

if she were capable of laughing off small slights, hawkeye and trapper wouldn't have used her as a chew toy so much, and henry might have taken her real concerns more seriously if they weren't lost in the noise of daily fits, you know? she rarely started it, so i'm not blaming her for the hostile chaos circus of seasons 1-3, but i am saying she would have had a better time if she knew how to take a few deep breaths.

this description from the script, after the near-brawl in the nurses' tent in act one, is basically her character thesis statement:

and here, when she's reacting fully emotionally, the truth comes out! the reason that she won't be flexible and show compassion to the nurses isn't because of the rules, but because they're mean to her!!

that's obviously a very bad place to lead from. she has enormous institutional power over them, including controlling their freedom of movement, but she feels like all the other girls in school are hanging out together and they hate her. because they are! and they do! the fight in act one boils over when they make fun of her hair, and that sent all of them back to middle school.

and in many ways, that's where margaret's emotional maturity is stuck (which is, i think, why i find her so endearing). she can't see herself. she knows they don't like her, trust her, or want her around, but she doesn't understand how she dug this hole herself, or how to get out of it.

to add insult to jealous injury, one of the nurses (mary jo, who gets between margaret and baker to stop the fight and takes care of the others in different ways) is margaret's age, and the others look to her as their chosen leader and personal support.

and i'm sure margaret had NO IDEA this was the messy truth until she heard it come out of her mouth.

and her emotionally breaking on the "one lousy cup of coffee" in particular…

i wonder, how often does some version of that first tent scene happen? does she deliver their assignments every night? she walks in already defensive, they immediately stop laughing, and then... she either finds a reason to scold them or they ice her out until she leaves. (and they probably start laughing again as soon as she does!)

from her perspective, when she arrived for the dreaded sleepover and they turned out the lights the minute she walked in, it's like they cancelled the nightly coffee klatch just to avoid spending one social minute with her.

i also think the nurses are right when they assumed that she wouldn't have accepted an invitation to hang out with them (and might even have snapped at them for being inappropriate for asking). she doesn't cross that emotional line, even when she should — she didn't know gaynor was spiraling after losing so many patients in a row, and didn't respond compassionately when she learned.

has she ever invited them for coffee or a friendly chat? no.

...... but her circumstances have recently changed.

[reblog with the rest of it is here!]

[olderthannetfic]

Getting this off my chest:

Back from a small fanfic hiatus, and I am absolutely flabbergasted by all of the fic authors now practically begging their readers to READ THE TAGS.

I’ve been seeing this warning written in summaries, in author’s notes, highlighted in all caps in the actual tags. I’ve read so many apologies written by authors in the comments in response to people chastising the author for writing what they wanted to write, for what they tagged correctly — for what essentially comes down to nothing more than having had other people actively ignore their tags or read despite them.

And there seems to be this bizarre, somehow largely accepted idea that it is the creators job and responsibility to beseech their readers to ‘use caution’ and to ‘stay safe’, to ‘be mindful of their health’…

I am beyond confused here.

Since when??? did exercising the most basic form of common sense and acknowledging one’s personal yeas and nays, likes and limitations, become some other random stranger’s burden rather than one’s own? And especially a random person who tagged their work correctly??? Does no one remember how to harness their own powers of discernment and self-regulation???

This little jaunt back onto ao3 has been unlike any that I’ve ever experienced before. What. Happened?????? Who is this new, apparently severely emotionally unstable and obstinately tags-reading resistant audience everyone has come to focus on?

It all feels so out of touch. The basic concept of ao3 is for the reader to seek out what they want, not what they don’t want. And to actually read. But there seems to have been an extremely strong shift away from reading. On ao3. A site built specifically for reading and writing. (And other fandom artistic pursuits, but not my focus, atm; though I’m sure whatever this is has crept steadily into all spaces there.)

Plummeting reading comprehension must be somewhat to blame; the popularity of fanfic amongst younger and wider audiences, as well. But… young people have always been there, as far as my own experiences go, and it was never like this. It’s as if too many readers don’t know how to make good or even practical decisions for themselves anymore, that they’ve lost the skill of choosing, and now believe that they must consume everything that passes before them; — that they have, for some reason, adopted the belief that any turmoil or dislike or discomfort felt within themselves is harm purposely being done to them by the author.

Idk. Idk, idk, idk. It’s just such a bummer to see how much nervousness and distress has entered the community. Authors notes and comments used to be hilarious fun, or a peek into someone else’s real-life world, used to be casual and full of personality, whereas nowadays, there seems to be an underlying hesitancy and distrust, a sort of growing divide between writers and readers, groups which, until recently, very much were not mutually exclusive.

--

Idiots have been around forever. The more you cater to them, the more entitled they get. It's best to shut that shit down fast and use no warnings that indicate a willingness to entertain stupid complaints.

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Secrets That Whisper & Shout

Pairing: Moonknight trio (Steven mainly) x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: idk brief mentions of violence

Genre: fluff & minor angst

Summary: you are extremely intrigued by your neighbor and the voices you can sometimes hear in his head because of course your neighbor seems extra susceptible to your powers

***

It's an interesting way to live life, being able to see into people's minds. To alter their memories, control their actions, hear their deepest inner thoughts even if you're not trying to sometimes. It can be weird but you just try your best to live your life normally. Right now the biggest hindrance to your delicate balance of normal is your neighbor. He lives across the hall for you and unfortunately, for some reason, you keep finding yourself inside his mind. It happens when you let your mental guard down for a little too long. You've always compared people's minds to houses, or offices full of filing cabinets, your powers give you a key basically but it seems like your dorky neighbor's mental door is never closed let alone locked.

The weirder part is what you hear when you do find yourself in his mind. For most people, the voice in their head sounds like them- and while you've never really spoken to your neighbor, you know for a fact there's no way he's simultaneously a nervous Brit, a cocky American, and a grumpy Spanish speaker. There are three voices in his head as opposed to one, they speak to each other and seem entirely independent of one another. You haven't intentionally done any snooping in his mind but you can imagine his mental filing cabinets are entirely different than any you've been in. It's not really your business though so you never look into it. No matter how curious you are about how and why he has three voices in his head. 

You know very little about your neighbor. From accidentally listening to his mental debates you think his name is Steven. The other voices have names too but you're unclear who is who because you've never stuck around long enough to discern that. He's not very social and only leaves his apartment for work or errands. He hardly ever takes phone calls and he never really calls anyone- except, around the time you moved in he used to call his mom pretty often but you think she never answered and eventually, those calls stopped. The strangest detail you've realized is sometimes he'll sneak out of his apartment, through the window and you have no idea where he goes or what he does but he's always back within a week. You don't mean to keep tabs on him, sometimes you cast your magic out to scan for threats and you'll notice the lack of presence in the apartment across the hall.

He's a curious case, your neighbor across the hall, and today you've decided you're going to bite the bullet and speak to him. Your curiosity about him is the main reason and you hope that being able to assign personhood to the voices you hear will quell it even a bit. You cross the hall and knock on his door confidently before you can convince yourself not to on one Saturday afternoon when you know he's home. You checked first. There's some shuffling on the other side of the door and eventually, it opens a bit hesitantly but it opens.

"Hi! My name is y/n. I live across the hall from you." You say, your chosen tone is friendly but soft.

"I'm- Steven. Can I help you?" He asks sizing you up.

"I hope so! I was baking cookies and even though I went to the store before I started I guess I didn't make a complete list of things I needed because it turns out I actually don't have enough sugar so I was just wondering if you had any I could borrow by chance?" You ask. You are baking, but you also definitely have enough sugar, it just seemed like the simplest way to initiate conversation. A bit cliche but it's a classic for a reason.

"You want to borrow sugar?"

"Yes. A cup if you have it." You hold up your measuring cup with a smile. Steven pauses for a moment before he answers.

"Sure. I've got some. Come on in I'll pour some for you." He says walking into his apartment. You follow him in glancing around. The studio style flat is full of books littered everywhere, it's the first thing you notice when you walk in. Steven takes the measuring cup from you and quickly grabs his container of sugar to pour some.

"Thanks so much! I'll bring by some cookies to repay you!" You tell him.

"Oh, no thank you. I appreciate the offer but I am vegan and I'm sure you don't intend to bake vegan-friendly cookies so-" He trails off with a shrug. You frown but make a note of the information. He's vegan. "I've never seen you before." He says after a moment while he puts up his bag of sugar.

"That's probably because you don't leave much besides for work. I've lived across you for over a year." You muse.

"Hey! I- I leave!" He turns to look at you.

"To do your laundry at the witching hour when you're the least likely to run into people?" You smirk a bit at him.

"No." He huffs.

"Thanks for the sugar, Steven. Hope to see you around more." You toss over your shoulder as you walk back into your apartment.

You do make a handful of vegan cookies for your neighbor, even though it wasn't your plan, after checking to find that it really is just a couple of minor changes, vegetable oil instead of butter, water or nondairy milk instead of eggs, and since you don't already have vegan chocolate you leave out the chocolate chips- at least according to the recipe you found. They're basically sugar cookies and you only make six for Steven, some of which you sprinkle with cinnamon to make up for their plainness, but you imagine they're a decent thanks for the sugar you borrowed- even if it was a ploy.

A couple of hours later, you knock on Steven's door again, this time with a small Tupperware container for the cookies you made him. He opens it again with the same confused frown after a few moments.

"Hi again! I know you said not to bother with the cookies because you're vegan but I wanted to say thanks anyway so- I adjusted my recipe to accommodate. They're sugar cookies except two of them are cinnamon, I wasn't sure if you like cinnamon so I didn't make them all cinnamon but the cookies are vegan. So, thank you, for the sugar." You say handing him the plastic container.

"You adjusted your recipe so that I could have some cookies?" Steven doesn't seem to believe the words even as he says them.

"Yes. I know you said I didn't have to bring any but I wanted to anyway. Since I did use your sugar to make them."

"Thank you. I appreciate the effort. I can't wait to try them."

"If you ever need anything, just knock." You tell him and wait for his cautious nod. "I'll be seeing you." You say leaving without waiting for him to agree with that statement. From then on, Steven does in fact make a point to speak to you more often. The first time is a couple of days later, he runs into you in the elevator and tells you he enjoyed the cookies. He'll definitely speak to you when he sees you around the building but it's on you to actually make plans if you want to see him otherwise and sometimes you do. You invite him out to lunch, have him over for tea, suggest movies to watch together, you even visit him at work every once in a while. The first time you went to his job you didn't even know he worked there, I mean he'd told you he worked at a museum but you never thought to ask which one, but once you knew he worked there you definitely made a point to pop in and say hi when you're around and he's working. It takes a while but you manage to build a pretty good friendship with him over the next few months to the point where you're hanging out a couple of times a week these days. In fact, he's supposed to be over later today to show you some movie he's been dying for you to see. For now, you're sitting on your couch reading a novel until he gets here. It'll be another few hours before he comes knocking at your door. 

You've really enjoyed getting to know him, more than you expected to honestly. He's as sweet and awkward as he comes off at first glance but there's something endearing about his gentle shyness even when he's raving about whatever thing has most recently captured his attention. You find yourself looking forward to the time you spend together more than you like to admit. You have no idea if your fondness is reciprocated to the same extent and you also have no idea how to broach the subject with him. Much like a skittish animal, you're always careful about how you make changes to your dynamic. It's something you try not to dwell on, if he likes you or if you'll tell him you like him and how to do so, things are good between you two and as they say, if it ain't broke don't fix it. 

Your head snaps up at the sudden rush of fear you sense. The book in your lap long forgotten anyway as you had been lost in your thoughts until the dread you felt in your very bones pulled you from them. It's not your own though, that panic, and you have to take a moment to pinpoint the source. You gasp when you realize it's coming from Steven. It's been a while since you felt someone's feelings so uninhibited and you rush out of your apartment before you can even consider a plan. He must be in trouble for you to feel his alarm this way. When you reach for his doorhandle you hear some sort of crashing sound inside and you force open his apartment door to find Steven evading someone attempting to corner him in the apartment.

"Steven!" You gasp when the masked intruder chucks some sort of dagger at him.

"Y/n?! Get out of here!" Steven shouts at you from behind the couch. You ignore him and charge the attacker by launching yourself using Steven's side table. The attacker can't react quickly enough to the kick that you aim directly at their chest and they go down hard. You don't give the stranger a chance to get up and strike either of you, taking advantage of their disoriented state you slip into their mind, 'suggesting' that they leave and forget they ever came here, forget Steven even exists and forget you while you're at it. When the masked assailant stands again they climb out of the window they came through without saying a word.

"Are you alright Steven?" You frown turning your attention to where he's frowning from behind his kitchen counter. When did he move behind the kitchen counter?

"What just happened?" He blinks at you.

"I am- a magical being of sorts-"

"Like a witch?"

"Something like that. I mean- I can do magic in the more traditional sense, like spells and such but most of my powers are telepathic. I can read minds and alter memories, reshape reality-"

"What?" You hardly register Steven's shocked exclamation.

"I mean that can take a lot of energy depending on the scale, like I obviously can't do it for everyone, everywhere, at the same time but like- I could say, make it look and feel like there are spiders all over this room." You shrug.

"Why would you ever-"

"Arachnids are a common phobia, it's gotten me out of some touchy situations." You say.

"That doesn't explain what just happened though." Steven shakes his head.

"Oh, I can control people if it comes down to it. I just- made the person leave and forget you exist."

"You can do what?!" His eyes widen.

"I don't use it! Usually. I've only done it a couple of times to protect myself or someone who really needed it." You shrug.

"And your protection was to force someone to do something else against their will?!"

"Hey, that person was literally trying to kill you! I could've taken the violent route instead but I'm not a fan of it!"

"So that man-"

"Doesn't remember being here, doesn't remember attacking you, doesn't even remember you exist. You're safe." You say.

"Holy shit."

"Look I wanted to be honest with you because I care about you but if this is too much for you to handle then- I will leave all I ask is that you keep my secret to yourself."

"You won't just... take it from me?"

"I don't want to. And I won't, unless that information in your hands becomes a threat to my life."

"Have you ever used them on me? Your powers?" He asks. You pause for a moment considering how to answer. Admittedly he doesn't seem to be taking all this super well, you wonder if it would be worse to just say no but looking at him you can't bring yourself to tell the lie.

"I have. Not- on purpose and nothing altering. No mind control or memory changing or reality reshaping- absolutely nothing that changed anything about you it's just that sometimes your thoughts are loud. You yell in your head a lot- in several voices. Sometimes I can hear them." You explain.

"You can hear them? The different voices?"

"Yes. I don't quite understand it but I never snooped I just- would leave when I realized it was happening again." You say.

"I think you should go." Steven says avoiding your gaze. Your shoulders drop for a moment that you're sure he doesn't see.

"I see. Alright but Steven-"

"Your secret is yours. I won't tell anybody." He says quietly. You nod although he's still not looking directly at you.

"Okay. If you need anything- my door's open. Otherwise, take care- Steven." You say and exit his apartment before he can respond. Steven's reaction hurts more than you'd like it to, you suppose you wouldn't have been able to keep the secret from him forever though. It would've come out eventually, especially if you got any closer to him as you had considered. 

The next two weeks are weird. Steven doesn't text you, or call you, or come over for tea or lunch, you make a point not to visit him at work as you are positive he's avoiding you based on the fact that he's clearly adjusted all of his habits so as to not run into to you around the apartment building. That- you think stings more than his initial reaction. To think he was so put out by your revelation that he no longer wanted to even risk seeing you... Whatever, you wouldn't dwell on it. The world keeps spinning. A sudden knock on your door interrupts you before you can focus back on what you were working on. With a confused frown, you walk over to the door and look through the spyhole to see Steven standing in the hall, and that surprises you immensely. For on that knock was sharp and harsh in a way you've never heard Steven knock on anything ever, but also for him to just show up at your door after 2 weeks is... unexpected. You pull open the door and lean casually against the frame.

"Hello." He nods and you immediately notice he does not sound like himself. You quirk an eyebrow at him.

"Steven? Hi. What are you doing here? And- why are you talking funny?"

"I'm not Steven my name is Marc Spector." He says.

"Did you hit your head or something?" You snort crossing your arms in confusion.

"No? I'm perfectly fine."

"Right except your name isn't Marc Spector it's Steven Grant. Unless you've been lying to me since we met which- would certainly be interesting but I don't think that's what's happening here." You say.

"Not quite. See we have a... condition-"

"Do not tell me about what's wrong with your body!" You put your hands up to stop him.

"It's psychological." He says.

"Oh okay. Proceed." You say.

"It's called dissociative identity disorder. My mind is- fractured. Essentially this body houses more than one consciousness." He explains.

"This sounds very Jekyll and Hyde and if you're coming to me to say you're a serial killer I don't-" You trail off when suddenly something clicks. "Holy shit you're one of the voices in Steven's head!" You gasp. You knew he sounded familiar but you didn't pinpoint it until just now.

"First of all, it's my head okay I am the original. Secondly- Steven told you about us?!"

"If he did do you think I would sound as confused as I do right now? No, he didn't tell me anything. I just realized why I recognize your voice." You say.

"Recognize my voice?" Now he's looking at you like you're crazy.

"I can hear you sometimes. You are quite loud- especially compared to the other one."

"You can hear us?" His eyes are wide as saucers.

"Yes, never on purpose though. I'm a telepath. I can read minds and change memories and alter reality and stuff like that so- sometimes I can hear you- which by the way we still haven't answered the billion dollar question why are you here?"

"Steven has been moping around for over a week now and every time we force him to leave he looks longingly at your door so I came to find out what the hell you did to him because I swear-"

"I didn't do anything to him. I told him I was a telepath and he freaked. He's been avoiding me since. All on his own. And before you start throwing around threats I'll warn you Marc Spector that I could take hold of your entire fractured little mind without even breaking a sweat. So tread carefully if you're going to start swearing things." Your eyes narrow at him.

"He's been avoiding you?" He blinks.

"We talked about my powers, he asked me to leave, and so I did. Probably assumes I'll take advantage of him using them or something." You shrug.

"Well you did just threaten me."

"It wasn't a threat it was a warning. Besides I'd never hurt Steven, you I don't know and you did start a pretty menacing sentence that prompted me to- never mind."

"Now I'm confused. If he's avoiding you, why is he moping around the apartment?" He frowns.

"You're asking me. You're the one that shares a body with him." You say.

"Explain to me exactly what went down?"

"I was in my apartment and someone attacked Steven- I don't know who or why but could feel it so I went over to help and I used my powers to get rid of them."

"What'd you do? Launch him out the window?"

"No? I just made him forget about us and where he was but when he mindlessly climbed back out the way he came in without attacking us I obviously had to explain some things. I guess Steven didn't take it all that well." You shrug.

"That doesn't sound right. I think you should talk to him."

"I- don't think he wants to do that." You shake your head.

"No. No, this has gone on long enough. Hang on." Marc says.

"Marc seriously mind your-"

"Y/n?" He grimaces. You recognize immediately that it's Steven you're talking to now.

"Steven- one the uh- voices? Marc? He thinks we need to have a conversation. Does he make a habit of meddling in your life this way?"

"Less often than you might think but- I do owe you an apology." His head drops.

"What for, exactly?"

"How I- handled things before. I was... cold, it's just that when you said you could hear Marc and Jake I was worried about what else you-"

"I'm sorry, who is Jake?" You shake your head at him.

"The identity disorder thing- there are three of us as far as we know. Myself, Marc, and Jake." Steven says and you nod as you piece it together.

"Would it be presumptuous of me to guess that Marc and Jake are not your only secrets?"

"No actually. Marc is an avatar."

"Of what?" You ask. Steven's shocked confusion prompts you to fill in the gaps, "I've met avatars for each of the sins so, one of those maybe? Or a celestial body of some sort? The moon perhaps- I'm guessing you don't mean in the same sense as the cartoon boy because people with elemental manipulation do not refer to themselves that way in real life so-"

"Khonshu." Steven says when you trail.

"What?"

"He's- Khonshu's avatar."

"Egyptian God. Interesting. Correct me if I'm wrong he's the god of justice, right?"

"That's right." He nods.

"So the guy that was attacking you a few weeks ago was probably mad at him for- something related to that."

"Most likely. Can't imagine a museum guest putting a hit out on me for not having any more pyramid pens or something." Steven scratches the back of his neck and you chuckle a bit at his joke.

"Interesting."

"Look- that day, I wasn't sure if this was something I was ready to tell you. I've never told anyone this before, the only person that knows is Marc's ex-wife, so when you said you could hear our thoughts I was worried you knew more than just that there were voices in my head and- I'm sorry." Steven trails off with a sigh.

"So- what changed? Why are you telling me now?"

"Well Marc revealed himself to you." Steven says. "But more than that I just- really hate not being able to talk to you. I like my life way more with you in it but I- after how I reacted I sort of figured I'd earned my misery, that I didn't deserve your forgiveness because when you chose to trust me with your secrets I turned you away, I even judged you, instead showing literally any modicum of support of the person I care about. I made an ass of myself."

"I wasn't upset with you, you know. I mean as far as shitty reactions go yours doesn't even make the top 5. You didn't tell the apartment building to gather their pitchforks so- I count that as a win." You shrug.

"I would never-"

"I know." You nod. "While we're- confessing our sins anything else you wanna share?" You ask with a chuckle. Steven holds your gaze for a long moment and there's a brief second where you consider finding out for yourself what he's contemplating so hard, you won't of course, but the silence drags long enough to make you want to rescind the question. Eventually, Steven's hand grabs your arm and yanks you towards him. His eyes are so wide at the action you'd think he's not the one who pulled you but before you can ask him about it his lips are on yours. The kiss is short and a bit unsure but his mouth is soft against yours and when he pulls away still with that wide-eyed look you do nothing but blink at him for a moment.

"I- I'm so sorry that was- I mean Marc was- I didn't plan- I wasn't going to-"

"Steven." You place your hand against his cheek to halt his frazzled rambling. "Did you want to kiss me?" You ask.

"I've wanted to kiss you for months." He breathes.

"Then don't apologize. I've wanted to kiss you too."

"Really?"

"Yes so- I think I'm going to do it again." You say pausing long enough to give him an out. When his eyes flutter closed you take that as your sign to lean forward and connect your lips again. You're sure in that moment you could do this forever and you silently wish to whatever powers above that you'll have that long to do it as many times as you wish.

***

A/N: I'm thinking of turning this into an anthology (like There is No Right Way) of the moonknight trio dating a telepath because I think it would be interesting idk- anyone interested in more of this dynamic?

[waspsarebetterthanbeesanyways]

In Season 1 Danny Phantom, in the Cujo episode Danny as Phantom is described as pasty faced, and in the episode where Danny loses a present in the ghost zone Jack sees a mailman ghost and describes him as pale even though we the viewers see him as bright green.

I headcanon that ghosts see ectoplasm differently than humans. In the GZ everything’d be ectoplasm all the time so they’d need to be able to see better and discern different types from each other. Hell, maybe humans think pure ectoplasm is white! None of the Amity Parkers seem to think Phantom is different from other ghosts even though he’s the only one with a normal human skin tone. So they probably see all ghosts as these creepy pale motherfuckers. Meanwhile, for ghosts, they figure out he’s a halfa really quickly because they see him as having a tan.

Also, the colors on screen change when ghostly stuff is happening. Maybe when Danny’s ghost sense goes off / he’s alert his vision heightens to ghost levels. That’d also explain why he doesn’t notice when other people are overshadowed right away: he’s not thinking to look in the ghost spectrum, so he’s not seeing their eyes glow / change colors like we the viewers are.

Now on to DP x DC: If humans see ectoplasm as white and Lazarus Pits = ectoplasm, why are Lazarus Pits green? That’s just how many added chemicals there are. Normal ectoplasm isn’t particularly irradiated, but the Pits are. So Lazarus Pits are basically ectoplasm with fucking uranium added in. The only reason it’s not killing people is because ectoplasm nullifies the effects of radiation on organic matter. Some day in the future, ghost shields could become anti-nuke shields.

Anyone who’d taken a dip in the Lazarus Pits and had the ecto removed would soon die from acute radiation syndrome.

[enavstars]

Cyberpunk au characters (Part 2)

Details:

Jay

He lives in the city junkyard with his parents Ed and Edna, who work as tinkers and scrap sellers; he got his passion for engineering from them.

When he was a kid, he got extremely sick with a deadly disease that was very difficult to treat. In the shitty society that is the city, his parents could not afford the safest medicines to cure him, so they were forced to risk it and buy a cheaper version from a not so reliable seller.

Unfortunately, even though he did survive and recovered, the medicine was mixed with a drug that had an unexpected side effect: he began to lose feeling on one of his legs until eventually he lost control over it entirely.

Rather than having him to deal with an unresponsive leg, to help their son deal with his disability Ed and Edna decided to spend all the resources they could spare to build him a prosthesis and amputate the flesh, and, after a few months of tireless work, the family’s joint efforts were able to get him walking again.

As a silver lining to this traumatic incident, though, he discovered his passion for technology and realized his aspiration: he wanted to make bionic prosthesis to help other people forced to go through the same kind of situation as his. But his family did not have the proper technique nor the resources to teach him (it had been hard enough just to make a single rudimentary leg), so it was after meeting Nya and eventually telling her about his goal that he finally got the opportunity to learn from an expert. Although he was intimidated by Ronin at first, the two of them grew fond of each other almost like an uncle and his nephew (yes he's become a literal wine uncle).

To this day, the man is (secretly) very proud of his boy and thankful he got him doing something useful again after his retirement.

The anecdotes with these gangs happen when they are older:

Morro

He’s the leader (alive and in flesh) of one of the many, many city gangs; particularly one known for their violent tendencies. For the area’s criminal standards, they are in fact relatively tame, because at least they do not ever mess with other arguably more serious criminal activities like drug dealing or pimping. They do like, however, beating the shit out of people for barely any reason at all (most of the time, just to “assert dominance” lmao).

One time, this habit came back to bite them in the ass when Morro decided it would be a good idea to mess with Lloyd. Obviously, underestimating him and the RGB as a whole just for being weird Outsiders was a terrible mistake, because as soon his brother caught wind of the situation, the fool got to taste Kai’s vengeful fury :).

As a result of that encounter, both Morro and Kai got VERY badly beaten, but finally the RGB got famous for being Those People You Don’t Mess With.

Harumi

The leader of THE most dangerous of the city gangs, known as the Sons of Garmadon (le wink), a cult-like criminal organization whose ideology is basically “survival of the fittest”. In fact, she is so obsessed about demons that she even wears pointy ear accessories to mimic their ears.

The organization itself is almost like a mafia, being at the center of most of the worst shit that goes on in the city. Of course, she loves being the head of all this attention, and she prides herself in being the deadliest and most cunning gang leader of them all.

On one occasion, after learning about the RGB’s (aka the outsiders) reputation of being tough as shit and hard to get advantage of, she figured it would be best to form an alliance with them to expand her contacts and (secretly) keep them in check. However, upon arranging a meeting with their leader, Kai, he is able to discern her true intentions. For this reason, when she eventually oversteps their agreement to try to manipulate the group, he is ready to confront her, and the siblings end up beating the shit out of her, marking the first time the great boss Harumi has ever been beaten up badly (by our queen Nya) and defeated in her scheming :).

Brad (le Greenflawa cuz why not)

Since back when he was a kid, he's been part of a little group of orphans named the Darklys, who like to pull pranks and cause trouble in general.

However, back then it used to be a lot more harmful than it is today, as the children were not completely aware of the damage they were causing. In fact, Brad himself was still an entitled brat, so much so that the first time he met little Lloyd ("Green"), the first thing that came out of his mouth was "Outsider, bow before me!". But it was due to Lloyd's deadpan response (he's used to his brothers being crazy stupid) and the awkward relationship that grew from it that Brad eventually realized that his bratty attitude was not getting him anywhere, and that little gangs' pranks were actually harmful.

So by the time he gets older, his gang is reformed to a more tame biker gang who only really pull harmless pranks from time to time. Brad himself is a far calmer person, but he still holds on to some problematic aspirations:

At one point he became fixated on the idea of him and his gang to join the Sons of Garmadon out of oblivious admiration. It was so bad that only Green was able to convince him, and only after having a pretty serious argument with him about how vicious and deadly they could be and how wild their insane leader's influence had become. But the stubborn Brad was not completely convinced, until in the end, Green managed to get through to him by emphasizing how his life would be in constant danger if he joined the literal most dangerous criminals in town. Most importantly, he confessed just how important of a friend he was to him, to which Brad, insecure and doubting his words, quietly replied that he didn't even know his true name. Right before leaving, though, Green offhandedly revealed his name to him, and Brad, left speechless, became the first person in years to learn his real name.

Long story short, he realized he was being stupid and was rewarded with massive gay panic :)

[deelavis]

I'm sure that some has talked about this before, but I have always been confused about Mello's reasoning for kidnapping Takada. I finished a read through of the Death Note manga recently and I FINALLY feel like I understand why. I'm going to break this down into 2 sections: Why he did it, and Did he intend to die?

Why he did it:

While I think it's meant to be kept somewhat vague for narrative purposes, the thing that I never understood fully was the wording in the scene:

Why specifically "his" name? Of course this line always made my little Meronia heart flutter, but before my manga read through I never quite understood it. If Near's plan to catch Kira went wrong, all of the SPK would die, not just Near. So why the emphasis on him? Especially if we are looking at a completely surface level reading of DN where Mello purely hates Near? But then I found this moment a few chapters earlier:

To summarize what is happening before and after these pages (Chapter 90), Near tells Light that there are 4 members of the SPK and that he is in Japan. He says they might meet soon. This is all coded language to challenge Light to an in person meeting. At this point Near admits that he doesn't have a concrete plan in place for confronting Light. But he knows they must meet Kira face to face and prove his identity by having a name written in the Death Note. This is prior to the SPK starting their investigation into Mikami. The part that stuck out to me was " When we meet Kira, the first person he'll write down is me, so..." To me this means that prior to finding Mikami and adding fake pages to the death note, Near planned to sacrifice himself to catch Kira if they didn't have any other options. This DIRECTLY correlates to Mello's line (read right to left):

Mello kidnapped Takada because he knew that if he didn't there was a good chance Near would die. This is literally the only reason that the text give us. Which leads me to our next part.

Did he intend to die?

While I've seen a lot of different takes on this, many of which I find very interesting, I now believe that yes, Mello kidnapped Takada with the intention to be killed by the death note. Here is my reasoning.

Mello knows better than anyone else investigating Kira how the death note works. Like L wanted to before his death, Mello used his time in the mafia to experiment with the rules of both the death note AND the shinigami eyes.

In the manga, Mello has one of the mafia members Kal Snydar (a.k.a. Jack Neylon) make a deal for the shinigami's eyes. Rod and Mello use Snydar's eyes to kill others for an extended period of time. This would give Mello at least a basic understanding of how they work; what face coverings inhibit the eyes, etc... And then after his encounter with Soichiro Yagami he becomes aware that there is always a chance that anyone associated with Kira could have the eyes. He also knows that Kira knows his name but not his face after the explosion. Meaning that he would know that the ONLY thing stopping Kira from killing him would be his face. Given that Mello never uses the death note himself but had other's use it for him, I believe that he also would theorize that Kira would do the same (such as X-Kira/Mikami, Misa, and Takada). Because of all of this he would be especially careful around anyone he knows has connections to Kira, such as Takada the spokesperson of Kira.

Moving on to the kidnapping. Mello wears a motorcycle helmet that appears to be tinted, but is clear enough to fully discern his face through. We know from previous instances that a dark tinted visor will block the shinigami's eyes from seeing your name, which most motorcycle helmets already have. Here is a comparison of a helmet used to block the face vs what Mello wore:

Mello specially chose one with a clear enough visor to see through. You could argue that he did this to show Halle who he was, allowing him to take Takada. However if this was his intention there were many other ways to make his identity clear to Halle without revealing his face. There is also the line on this page that intrigues me. "She's connected to Kira... Unless I do this..." The sentence structure implies that there is a direct consequence Mello envisions. Unless you do this...then what? Given everything else I have outlined above to me the implication is "Unless I do this then Near will die." You could argue that he’s thinking something like “Unless I do this then Near will win!” However, Mello has always been outspoken in his desire to be the one to catch Kira. If that’s what he was thinking wouldn’t it just say that? Whatever his reason is is something he can’t bring himself to say even in the privacy of his own brain.

If you were to argue that Mello didn't realize that his helmet was clear enough to see his face, this is then made moot when he takes it off in front of Takada. There was no reason for him to do this, in fact, there were a multitude of reasons not to. Even if Takada didn't have death note pages on her, Mello knows that if she escapes, Kira could easily ask her to write his name in the death note because she knows his face. You may then think "but why does Mello take precautions to not get followed and killed by Takada's men? He takes away and ships off anything that could be bugged and tracked including her clothing." This just further proves that he is trying to be killed specifically by the death note. The kidnapping is planned to a T, but he doesn't take the simplest precaution of concealing his face from one of Kira's biggest supporters.

So what was Mello’s plan? We know that Mello is someone who plans for a lot of different contingencies. We see this when he plants bombs through out his safe house in the event that he’s backed into a corner. Because of this I believe he had a few different plans. But no matter what his goal with kidnapping Takada is to force contact with Kira. In fact, Near thinks that Mello’s goal is to use Takada as bait.

What his exact plan was up in the air for me. He may have intended to be killed by her, thinking that she had access to a death note when kidnapped which would explain why he didn’t check her over before giving her the blanket to cover herself. He states that his intention of taking her clothes is to removing any tracers so her bodyguards didn’t find them. They make a deal that he will give her the blanket before taking off her underwear, where she’s hiding her pages of the death note.

Even if Mello didn’t know that you can used pages torn out of the death note, there are a few time in the series when a person hides a full death note under their clothes (Near being my favorite example). So it’s not out of the question that she could have had one tucked into the back of her underwear.

His plan also could have been to release her in some way so that she could get back to Kira and use the death note. Mello knows Kira has his name, now with Takada having seen his face Kira would have her write Mello’s name for him. Or it could have been that he intended to use her to draw Kira out and get killed by the death note in the process.

Going back to our first example from the manga, Near says "The fact that we replaced the pages in the notebook and the notebook happened to be a fake… I find it hard to believe that Mello thought that far ahead." I do agree with Near here. I don't think that Mello had figured out that the notebook was fake. But I do think that Mello could see that Near's plan had holes in it, and any mistake would result in Near getting killed. His solution was to be the name that was written in the book instead. You can argue in a lot of different ways why it was important to Mello that Near lives. Such as, Mello knew that with Near dead he didn't have any hope of catching Kira by himself with all of this resources and allies depleted. Or my favorite reason, despite his protests Mello deeply cares for Near and was willing to die if it meant Near would survive.

Please let me know any of your thoughts!