#you can’t ever change that

[littlcdarlin]

Was thinking about this writing the new chapter, and I think one of the worst parts about being SAed at 15 was how it made me feel about other people. Yeah, you are made to feel your body only belongs to you until someone else decides it doesn’t, and it fucks up this youthful state of basically being a functioning narcissist, in that you no longer have this experience of the world in which you are the main character, which I think is what most people mean when they talk about the world losing colour etc. afterwards. But as an adult who still struggles severely with trusting people, as in my ex told me she loved me and I had a panic attack so bad I threw up, what makes me the angriest, is that one single indulgence in desire by someone stronger than you can completely warp your perception of people you love. Which tells you that at its core, fear is the most base emotion, and stronger than love by far. Love won’t save the day and it can’t overcome anything, which is quite…chastening to realize as a child when you‘re supposed to be full of hope and faith. Idk it’s so insane to me that a guy did that to me and for him it’s this most likely random night, and I will forever doubt the people I love the most. Such an extreme discrepancy of consequence idk

[v0idwraith]

quite frankly idgaf what Luigi Mangione’s politics are, he actually did something to make a change and that’s more than most people can say

[tariah23]

The manga industry, especially JUMP, needs to hurry up and do away with weekly scheduling for mangaka. There needs to better regulations put into place for their health and safety because this is pitiful. Two weeks - monthly updates should’ve already been the standard for the manga industry at this point. These money grabbers will only continue to put the lives of these artists at stake for the sake of capitalism unless some serious changes are implemented.

[littlenastieswewhispered]

“buffy ended the show single :)” ok but only because her current love interest just DIED!! (he near quite literally died in her arms! in sacrifice for her!) her last words of the entire series were telling him she loves him and then saying his name in admiration. she isn’t single; she’s a widow.

[mint-chocolate-flakes]

I think Liir and Callie would’ve been friends

Doodles cuz art block

All I know about Liir is that he got his mom’s bisexuality. Idk how to draw him either

I am also tripping balls rn

[swampthingking]

andrew’s definitely gotten in trouble with his pr manager for tweeting things along the lines of:

“no mania inducing medication will compare to the euphoria i will feel the day donald trump drops dead”

[jeanmoroses]

tsc social media au part 10 (!!)

can you tell this is inspired by that one gose episode

[ovium-sheep]

I hate seeing people mischaracterize Jimmy’s obsession and bend it into some sort of “caring” for Curly. Jimmy may have cared for Curly at some point, but no where does he express any genuine sympathy or care towards Curly.

ONCE does he say he “understands” him, but that’s only because he took the place of Curly. The place he so DESPERATELY WANTED.

Everything Jimmy did was out of morbid obsession for his “best friend.” Jimmy doesn’t care for Curly. Jimmy literally physically abused Curly.

Folks who twist his gross idolization of Curly, did we even play/watch the same game? 🤨

[keyslox]

you didn’t know . . .

+ some more doodles! (all drawn on whiteboard fox) (colored on my phone d:3)

[superbat-lmao]

Something that I relate to Jason Todd about is the alienation from your family that happens when you go through something traumatic.

I have had family members that try and bring up the cute kid I was and reminisce about a child that I am no longer able to feel connected to because of specific traumas. And I think Jason has a similar go of it in fanon.

The idea that who Bruce, Dick, and the rest of the family miss is the cute kid who used to be Robin and liked reading and was excited for school? Yeah, and that’s not who he is anymore. The memories of being that kid physically hurt, because you can’t separate out the fact that you were innocent from what happened to you. You already know the end to the story, and it’s not good.

You can’t go back to your innocence and you have to live with whatever messy and terrible things you’ve done to cope with the fact that you couldn’t handle your trauma in the way people wanted you to. It fucks you up and it feels like you’re two different people: that kid who could have done great things, and the person you are now that is stuck with all of the things you’ve done wrong.

Jason not wanting to see his family or having true difficulty reconciling with his family is on par with the glass case, the evidence that who his family wants back isn’t the person he became and is, but the kid he was. And no one is happy with the fact that he “isn’t the same kid that was lost”.

He’s changed in ways that aren’t all good, and that’s a hard pill to swallow.

I can’t imagine being Bruce or Dick or Alfred or Barbra and remembering the cute kid who thought Robin was magic. Of missing who you were before that kid died and the way it changed you as a person. Of wanting that kid back and also wanting what felt like yourself back.

Because it’s not just Jason’s grief that they have to contend with, it’s their own loss of themselves. Bruce is not the same father he was before he lost Jason and there’s no getting that man back. There’s no green light that he’ll be able to reach that undoes the past and restores his son to who he wanted him to be and himself to who he wishes he was.

I can’t imagine trying to rebuild that bridge when both people on either side are veritable strangers and looking for someone who doesn’t exist anymore.

Also, the tendency for fanon to have Jason “fall back into Robin training” is doubly painful. Because he can’t go back to being Robin. So anything that he does that is reminiscent of that kid, either in how he handles victims, or inside jokes with his family, or grumbling about current interests is going to look like maybe that kid still exists somewhere in Jason. That Jason is just lost or that something can be done in order to bring that kid out in certain circumstances when the truth is that it’s part of who he is, but it’s no longer the controlling part of his personality and it can’t be, because that kid wasn’t equipped to deal with what adult Jason has to deal with.

Being continually compared to a dead kid has got to suck worse than an older sibling standard. Especially when you never wanted to become what you are in the first place.

[mxtxfanatic]

You implied in a post that Jiang Cheng is partially responsible for orphaning Jin Ling and I wonder what you mean? I can't remember anything he did to cause it

I’m sorry, but do people not realize that Jiang Cheng’s actions led to direct, causal consequences? Jiang Cheng lets his petty insecurities get to him, which leads to:

him publicly abandoning Wei Wuxian, openly declaring him as an enemy to the (orthodox) cultivation world, and withholding why he owed a debt to the Wen siblings because “tired baby is cranky baby,” while at the same time…

not completely cutting off contact but, instead, covertly helping sneak Jiang Yanli to Yiling to show off her wedding gown, giving Wei Wuxian the false impression that he was still conditionally welcomed enough that it would be safe to accept the invitation to Jin Ling’s one-month celebration, and these first two points lead to…

the Jin Clan feeling comfortable enough to ambush him on the way to said one-month celebration, because they were both positive that Wei Wuxian would show up AND assured that no one would be around to defend him. Jin Guangyao takes advantage of this to kill off Jin Zixuan. That’s one parent down, and the consequences of this are…

…now an unjustifiably angry Jiang Cheng, rather than staying behind to comfort his grieving sister and fatherless nephew, attending the murder banquet, showing a united front to all other clans that Wei Wuxian is neither supported nor welcome. He provides no explanations in neither Wei Wuxian nor the Wen siblings’ defenses, and when Wei Wuxian shows up to said murder party, he keeps silent as Wei Wuxian is verbally AND physically attacked, making no attempts at diplomacy or de-escalation because he doesn’t view this battle as affecting him (because correct me if I’m wrong, but Wei Wuxian’s corpses don’t attack the Jiang disciples at this moment). Which leads to…

Jiang Yanli running onto an active battleground to find Wei Wuxian and, eventually, giving her life for him.

Then as a little treat, instead of Jiang Cheng taking responsibility for his hand in how all of these events played out, he instead teaches his orphaned nephew that Wei Wuxian intentionally killed both of his parents in cold blood and that this young child should kill anyone who reminds Jiang Cheng of Wei Wuxian, grooming the kid into his tool of vengeance. Guanyin Temple is the only moment where he drops the facade that this was ever about Jin Ling, when he basically says “You took everything from me and left me with this orphan” pointing directly at Jin Ling and causing the kid to deflate.

This is also what I mean when I say that Jiang Cheng is a follower who wants to be treated like the leader be refuses to be. He wants to play both sides—posturing to the cultivation world that he’s cut all ties with Wei Wuxian with that staged fight but then sneaking Jiang Yanli to him when she asks, siding with the cultivation world wanting to exterminate the Wen remnants and shun Wei Wuxian at the emergency conference but telling Wei Wuxian that he’s there for the latter’s “benefit”—because he never wants to make a decision that can be confidently placed on his own head. He wants the benefit of actions he didn’t take—“why am I not being praised as if I killed the xuanwu of slaughter when I led the search party afterwards?” “I’ll take credit for killing Wei Wuxian even though I literally didn’t.”—while shoving all of the responsibility to others—“you repaid my debt to the Wen siblings, so that’s your bad luck,” “you almost died to save everyone in the cave and now the Wen are knocking on the door, so that’s your bad luck, nevermind that I also tried to kill Ling Wangjiao in that same cave.”

Jc stans are a constant refrain of, “Looks guys, he didn’t repay his debt to the Wen at the cost of everyone else’s ire, that was Wei Wuxian! He didn’t lead the ambush and host the banquet, that was the Jin! He’s just a hapless baby, a widdle guy! He’s only there for numbers! He’s only there for face! Nothing is ever his fault!” when truthfully, most of the events of the story past the war are directly his fault, and that’s why he has not a damn thing to say when Jin Guangyao calls him on it.

[guardianlioness]

Watching Kafka and Reno’s interactions at the beginning of the Kaiju No.8 anime hits differently after catching up with the manga.

Reno protesting Kafka’s carelessness with his Kaiju form is a fun gag early on in the story, and his decision to stick with Kafka during the exam is endearing—but it’s amplified and almost sad in retrospect.

Manga spoilers from chapter 101 onward below the cut.

We learn in Ch. 101 that Reno has suffered a huge amount of loss in his life.

He lost his parents and brother. He lost the familiarity and daily routine of attending his existing school. He lost emotional security, witnessing his grandmother’s struggle with their mutual grief. He lost faith in the idea that someone might help.

Only for Kafka to trip headlong into correcting that belief.

Despite Reno’s disrespect, Kafka fully embodies his senpai title by teaching him the tricks of the trade. He looks out for and helps him without hesitation, and he brushes off any jabs or insults with a quick, internal wince.

And then Kafka absolutely shatters his core beliefs by shoving him out of a Kaiju’s path.

This guy—a guy Reno barely knows, a guy that he insulted seconds into their first meeting—is willing to die for him without hesitation.

Is it any surprise that Reno really would rather not lose him?

All of those reminders and all of that fussing is to keep Reno’s only hero from being scrapped for literal parts.

For the first time since the death of his family, someone steps between Reno and tragedy. Of course he’s going to do everything in his power to keep that savior alive.

[vickyshinoa12]

Who wants some more photos of the best boy ever?! :3

[tabrisangel]

i loave childhood pruhun so much

[seagreenstardust]

Anyone still calling late game Katsuki an abuser in 2024 is just not paying attention. Full stop.

[mao-ancunin]

Fools Fall

Pairing: Astarion x M!Tav/Named Tav 

Summary/Setting: Spawn-Astarion headcanon romance and friendship scenes of hurt, healing and love. Taking place between act 1 and 3. Lots of companion friendship scenes too 🤍 

Rating/Warnings: T / game spoilers, mentions of Astarions past, Trauma and PTSD, flashbacks, panic attacks.

Read entire work on: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62732383/chapters/160598794

Chapter 1 - Falling

At the beginning Astarion thought of Mao as the fool who fell in love, but soon he began to realise that it was him who was the fool.

Unexpected things started to happen after Astarions luring instincts kicked in. Although Mao, the gentle Tiefling, seemed to be falling head over heels in love with the vampire and was certainly lured by Astarions front of making himself as palatable as he could, matching whatever the other desired, there was more to their spending their time together; before Astarion knew it, Mao started calling him his ‘dear friend‘. If Astarion had admitted how he felt  he would have called him one back. Most of the time Mao was infuriatingly kind yet He could be feisty and fiery. He had an unpredictability that intrigued the other. The pale elf realised that on many occasions he didn't even make an effort to wind him up around his little finger with sweet nothings. Being himself, whatever was left of that was...Enough. 

Maybe if they had met in another life they would have loved one another in the most sickly sweet way Astarion could think of. But in this one, he had to look after himself, this situation didn't leave room for galavanting around with friends, let alone romantic relationships. Lest he risk a stake through his heart or worse, Cazador would take his freedom once more. 

Still, every now and then Astarion imagined himself in this little make believe life, and at least it made the whole ordeal a tad easier, stomach knots unravelling with each laugh and gentle touch. 

It became a habit, staying up late together, chatting about all sorts of silly meaningless things. Astation felt himself falling easily into playful embraces and conversations. Even though their relationship had stayed platonic so far, there was an unspoken attraction between them, arms brushing past, lingering touches all felt exciting. Every now and then, a hand lingered a little longer on Maos shoulder and every now and then Astarion caught himself observing him from afar and smiling to himself. He wasn't luring anymore, he was falling. 

Usually with a Mark to be taken to his master, Astarion would have already seduced the target as soon as they showed willing, but with Mao he hesitated. He knew that he could have him, claim him, pull the strings tight around his neck to lock him in as his net of safety. Maybe it was his new found freedom of his autonomy to do what and whom he wanted with his body. Or maybe it was the fear of the tainted act sex had become to him. Not sacred or special, something you do out of love and desire, but a tedious ordeal that turned knots in his stomach and one did for survival. Besides, he appreciated the space Mao gave him. He felt respected. 

One evening, as the events of the day unravelled in front of the campfire in the form of epic tales, laughter and toasts to living another day without turning into mind flayers, Astarion found himself next to Mao, unable to focus on the chatter, and frankly, he didn't care about goblins fought and druids freed. Momentarily he was preoccupied with the little circles Maos hands were drawing on Astarions skin. First it began with an accidental placement of hands and a following remark on how cold Astarions hands were. “Darling, you forget I’m undead, this is what it's like” was not enough for Mao to be discouraged in trying to warm them up. “Well, mine are always quite warm, they could do with a bit of cooling.” he said. So throughout the evening their hands always remained close. The touch itself felt intoxicatingly warm and he couldn’t help but ponder what Maos lips felt like. Mao himself was joining the telling of stories, laughing at Gale’s silly jokes and joining Karlach in joyous Tiefling chants. Although preoccupied with bonding with the other companions, his hand let the other know he was there for him and that he cared.

Then one after the other, their companions slipped into the shadows, retreating to the comfort of their tents until once again, Astarion and Mao were left to their evening ritual of watching the embers disappearing into the dark of the night, conversing about right and wrong, life and death, hurt and healing. 

But tonight, they embraced the silence and gentle touches of their hands, finding their way to entangle themselves. Their fingers as though dancing with each other, embracing, trailing, stroking. If his body had needed sleep, he could have easily sunk deeply into it as he felt a deep sense of safety. They lay back against the logs, a blanket draped over their bodies, which were closer than ever before. Astarion closed his eyes and let himself slip into the reality of his daydreams, pushing aside his worries of recapture and torment. For now he was just here, with Mao, enjoying kind, loving touches. 

Maos fingers brushed the white soft curls that had fallen over his eyes out of the elf's face, Astarions vocal chords humming involuntarily by the brief touch. The Tiefling continued to trace Astarions features with featherlight fingers, over his eyebrows, temples and lips which tingled in anticipation, he opened his eyes to gaze into golden infernal eyes that lit up with something Astarion hadn't seen before. He shifted his face closer to Maos to inhale the scent of desire in his blood and leaned into his warm hand, eyes closing - inviting.  Then their lips finally met, releasing hours of longing and dancing around each other.

Astarion shuddered at the tingle that the soft touch of Maos lips sent down his spine, warmth taking over his entire being. A sensation he didn't feel was too unfamiliar. He had fallen for someone before, kisses and tender touches feeling divine. Suddenly a sharp jolt of emotion flooded his senses, dread rising within. A memory pushed itself into his mind, a crushed skull, of a person he dared to love, someone he kept secret from Cazador. But there were no secrets he could keep from his master. And it was always punished the hardest. He would be sorry for daring to touch another soul in the same way again. Astarion felt the clammy blood on his hands, as he held his lover's beaten face. He blinked and gasped until he realised there was no blood, there was only Mao, concerned eyes trying to connect. 

„—starion?“ Mao said, unease spreading across his face. “Astarion, dear, are you alright?“ Astarion felt nausea surge in his stomach. Maos gentle squeezes on his arm pulled him back into reality. “Oh…I'm sorry“ he stared blankly for a moment, before he could realise what was happening. He attempted a casual smile „I exhausted myself today. I… I am sorry, I should probably get some rest. It's been a long day” Before Mao could say anything

Astarion broke away and disappeared into the darkness surrounding the camp. Leaving the other wondering and contemplating. 

Astarion paced frantically, he attempted to push the memory far back where it belonged, another century, another lifetime. 

He just had to get back on track, put on that mask that he wore so well, speak words dazzled in flirtatious promises and poetic verses. And put up a thick wall between him and his feelings. This whole ordeal would get him into trouble and he could not afford thinking of what would happen to Mao, should Cazador ever find them. He wasn't allowed to care for someone else. Astarion was not going to give up his freedom, no matter how tempting. 

He was bound to break, but in that moment Astarion saw no other way. he was fumbling, grasping the lucky thread that his survival hung by, it was wearing thin. He thought that maybe by forcing himself to sleep with Mao, like he did with so many times with his targets he might feel that nausea in his stomach return, a knot that would make him repulsed by the other and make it so he could just use him for the intended purposes, make himself stop falling, stop feeling. Just surviving. It had to work. 

At the celebration with the tieflings the next night, he composed himself, mask locked tightly in place: tonight he would pounce.

Part of himself felt a sort of loss after they had slept together. it felt as though he had betrayed himself in a way. Another part of him fell deeper, unexpectedly. 

After that, it didn't take too long until his front finally unravelled for good.