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#AND IDK I know ive been compared to more things but its been a long time and ive forgotten sighsssss

crimson-catalyst · 2 years

Note

6, 7, 19, 25, 29 >:) give me your secrests

(context)

someone beat u to 6 in fact! as for the rest...

7. A medium of art you don't work in but appreciate

how about two; watercolor and fursuiting. i think watercolor’s gorgeous but its something i could not possibly abide doing myself; its too imprecise and relies on timing and you can’t edit it midway or think too hard about it and it also uses a brush.

fursuiting fascinates me as an art but i definitely appreciate it most from a “oh my god giant stuffed animal” perspective LMAO. i want miniature ones as plushies. i love the styles people develop with em

19. Favorite inanimate objects to draw (food, nature, etc.)

buildingsss and city streets!! to be fair i actively dislike greebling buildings but i Love drawing shit in perspective. mmmm.

on a smaller scale im a big fan of the guns ive put together for my ocs (tho only those LMAO). i also like disposable paper coffee cups!

25. Something your art has been compared to that you were NOT inspired by

i dont really recall if ive been told id like it or whether my stuff looks like it but an older webcomic(?) named Lore Olympus. aand if i remember correctly ive been asked about Hazbin Hotel/Helluvaboss? i just like demons, im actually a disgaea demon guy LOL

and more generally, modern animes; i certainly have my roots in anime styles but its been many MANY years since i was inspired by any.

i do get accurately pegged for being a homestuck a lot more than id expect though lol

29. Media you love, but doesn't inspire you artistically

a lot of real-play TTRPG stuff! while im not currently listening to any i like various realplay podcasts/shows, but none have necessarily jumpstarted me creating anything. (save for playing myself, of course, but that feels like a unique enough situation involving other ppl to not be “artistically” inspiring)

#art #answer #aussieosbourne #ask game #call me a furry if you want i skirt the edge of the community but respectfully dont want to be one LOL #furries are so damn good at art #AND IDK I know ive been compared to more things but its been a long time and ive forgotten sighsssss

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heartpascal · 1 year

Text

or is it loneliness?

▹— (eventual) spiderverse found family x platonic!reader

▹— summary: you need closure, and information. two visits kind of give you that.

▹— a/n: guys idk what im DOING. i have things planned for atsv but not how we’re gonna get there … rn im just yolo-ing. im not a big fan of this one but im gonna start writing the next one asap, which will hide fully be more found family-ish lmao arachnid is gonna start warming up to them all some day i swear

▹— warnings: angst, injuries, not good thoughts, dead parents, sensory issues, explosions, violence, fighting, blood?, damaged hearing for a good minute, peter b parker eating burgers deserves its own warning, food, mention of throwing up / nausea, insecurities about being good enough, refusing help, idk what else, if ive missed anything let me know!!!

▹— taglist: @rhymingtree (everything taglist) @justmare @uniquemonstrosity @lacunaanonymoused @erensbbg @dulceteris @noxxing @escherichiacolli @ray-rook @i-3at-kidz @miwagila @stoneforests (is it freedom’verse) — also i only tagged those who explicitly asked to be tagged!

MASTERLIST , part one

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You spend a long time sat on the edge of the open window, staring out at the traffic below after getting back from Spider Society HQ. There’s a tangible relief that comes with returning to your dimension, like a weight being removed, a tension that is finally released from where it had been pulled taut. Your shoulders feel just as heavy as they did when you left, but you try not to think about it. You try to be happy that you’re back.

While you wouldn’t say it aloud, and you hate to even have the thought, you don’t think anybody had noticed you were gone. But then again, who would? You have no reason to be so upset about such a thing.

Time slips by as you diligently sew up the tears in your suit, frowning as you hold it up once you’re finished. It looks nothing like it used to, but then again, neither do you. Things have changed, it only makes sense that your suit would, too. You wonder if travelling through alternate dimensions can alter your perception of things. You’d swear that your suit had been a different shade before you left, lighter, maybe, but you have nothing to compare it to.

At least now, this time, when you put on your suit there is evidence of damage that Gwen Stacy had caused. The stitching along your the material where she had tore into you is a tangible thing, physical, and you run your fingers across it as if it might disappear. It’s almost a relief, to be able to feel where she had caused you pain, as opposed to the invisible ache she had left within you after fighting her the first time around.

Alongside the scar raised on your body, the fight with Gwen had left you with a sort of paranoia. An uncertainty in the back of your mind that has you glancing over your shoulder, has you messing up simple manoeuvres as you panic, thinking you hear her voice.

It must have been your third day back from the HQ that you come to the conclusion that you have to visit Gwen Stacy in her prison.

The decision doesn’t come easily. It comes slowly, torturously so, a realisation that deafens you as you glare through squinted lenses at the city around you. You won’t be able to go on like this, getting yourself hurt in stupid ways all because you’re not certain that she’s back in her prison. You’re meant to be a hero, which means that messing up, despite whatever paranoia that lingers in the back of your head, is unacceptable. It has consequences.

Seeing her in the flesh will likely be the hardest thing you’ll ever do. Except, maybe, not killing her when you caught her in that other dimension. You keep your mind on the fact that she won’t be able to touch you, that she’ll be walled away, to reassure yourself that there is no risk of either of you hurting the other — at least, physically.

But seeing her isn’t the only difficult part.

No, the hardest part is stepping back into an identity that you had lost your grasp on, long ago. You wear your old clothes, clothes that you hadn’t put on in months, and try to remember how it felt to be you, rather than Arachnid.

“Hi, Mrs. Stacy.” You say, when the door to an all too familiar apartment opens just a slither, and you catch sight of her wrinkled eyes. There’s a noticeable change to them when she realises who you are, and she’s slamming the door shut, undoing the chain, and reopening it before you can say another word.

She whispers your name like she can’t believe it’s you — and you can’t blame her.

You had disappeared, months ago, after the death of your father. Going missing was far easier than being placed in a foster system that would only hold you back. It had been so much easier, not having to face anyone, not having to speak at his funeral.

“Hi.” You repeat, when her stare lingers in the silence for far too long. The sound of your voice once again breaks her out of her trance, and she’s rushing forward to pull you into her arms as if you were her child. You suppose, in some ways, it was quite a lot like that. At the very least, your presence will remind her of the daughter she had lost.

“Where have you been? Oh, honey, I was so worried.” Mrs. Stacy says, her voice trembling by your ear as she squeezes you tight, unfazed by your lack of reciprocation. “Come inside, please.”

You follow her through the doorway, closing the door behind you as you had done so many times before. Not looking around at the apartment is near impossible, but you’re not sure how much familiarity you can take. Even just seeing Mrs. Stacey’s aged face makes your chest ache, your legs feeling shaky.

“Sit down, honey, let me get you a warm drink.” She says, a tremor to her voice as she bustles towards the kitchen which is adjoined to the living room. The news plays on the television, and you’re glad to hear a weather report, rather than some city-wide attack. Mrs. Stacy is quiet as she goes through the process of making your favourite drink, but with your enhanced hearing you listen to the telltale clink of a spoon against ceramic. You listen closely to her hitched breathing as her footsteps pad back into the room. “Here.” She hands you the warm mug, and you don’t comment on the way her hand shakes.

“Thank you.” You say, though it feels stilted, wrong, too formal. It’s hard to be normal in this setting, to be whoever you used to be, especially as she stares at you like she’s seen a ghost.

Mrs. Stacy stares at you for a long while before she speaks again, as if she’s still not sure that you’re real. “Where have you been? After—After your dad… we didn’t know what happened to you. Are you safe? Do you need help?” She asks, frantic once she’s gotten started on her questions.

“Mrs. Stacy, I’m fine, really.” You lie, smiling tightly over the rim of the mug as you hold it towards your face. Before, you would’ve burnt your tongue drinking it too fast, but you’re hesitant to drink it at all. The last thing you want is to become too familiar to your old life. “I’ve been staying with some friends, downtown. It’s been good.”

She raises a brow at you, and stares for a moment longer. “Honey… you don’t look well.” She tells you, and raises the back of her hand to press it against your forehead. Her frown only deepens when you flinch away from the touch. You try not to curse yourself too much, but can’t help reprimanding the way you hadn’t anticipated such an action.

The skin on your forehead is clammy, but that’s just the anxiety, the nerves at being back here. Arachnid can’t get sick.

“Listen, I… I was hoping I could ask a favour from you.” You say, hesitantly, gripping the warm mug tight between your hands, but loosen your fingertips against the ceramic when you hear a minute crack.

Mrs. Stacy furrows her brows, looking more concerned by the second, but nods. “Of course, anything.” She tells you, and places one of her hands against yours on the mug.

“I was hoping I could visit Gwen.” You voice, after one last moment of hesitation. The way her face immediately crumples at the request doesn’t give you much hope, especially as her hand withdraws from your own. “I—I know you don’t get to see her very often, and maybe it’s selfish, but… I don’t know. I wanted some kind of closure, I guess.” You ramble on in response to her silence, glaring down at the liquid still swirling in your mug.

“Honey,” Mrs. Stacy interrupts, her voice soft in contrast to the way yours was growing in volume. You quiet immediately, your gaze drawn up to where her tearful eyes stare at you, her expression almost mourning. “I would never deny you that, but you should know… I haven’t visited Gwenny since she was put in there.” She admits, her stare dropping to her lap, almost ashamed.

“Oh,” You voice, softly, in response. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed— I—I mean, I can’t even imagine—”

“No, don’t be silly, how would you have known?” She replies, raising her eyebrows at you strictly. “Now, I can get you that visit. I’ll call my attorney first thing tomorrow, but… really, honey, do you need me to call someone for you? Who are these friends?”

Her voice is familiar, and it’s kind, which makes it all the more painful. It’s strange, seeing the resemblance between her and the Green Goblin, and it makes a part of you ache. Your life wasn’t the only one torn apart by Gwen. In fact, her mother probably faced the worst of it. With her husband being long gone, her oldest son away at college, youngest withdrawn after her daughter became a homicidal maniac, who did she really have left? Who was looking after Helen Stacy?

You smile at her, as best as you can without tearing up, and reach out to grasp her hand, which she readily accepts. “I’m okay, Mrs. Stacy, I… It’s just a few friends of my dad, from his home town. Their kids, too. It’s better than being put in the system.” You tell her, and can only hope that she believes you. You have no way to back up these lies, knowing those friends of your father don’t exist.

“You could’ve stayed here, you know?” She says, teary and squeezing your hand so tightly you can hear your bones creaking. You smile sadly at her.

“You’re a much stronger person than me, Mrs. Stacy. I couldn’t even face my dad’s funeral, let alone be around the memories of somebody I lost. This place, it—it reminds me of her.” You explain, voice shaking as you hold back your own tears, swallowing them down and trying to breathe through the ache in your throat.

The way her heart breaks is almost loud enough for you to hear it, but she nods her head understandingly, regardless. “Of course,” She says, nodding still, “But know you always have a place here, okay?”

“Okay.” You respond, heart clenching so tightly you’re not sure it can pump your blood any longer.

“Now, what’s your number? Your old phone was disconnected.” She says, shaking her tears away to pull out a pad and pen from the coffee table. She sets the notepad against her knee, looking expectantly toward you.

“Oh, right,” You stutter, teeth chattering as you comb your mind for the number of your burner phone. “There was a mixup, because it was in my dad’s name.” You explain needlessly, still searching your mind for the answer. Finally, you remember it. You listen to her ballpoint pen scrape along the paper as she writes the numbers as you say them, and then she clicks the pen off after writing your name beside it, underlining it twice.

“How about I give you a call with the details of your visit, okay, honey?” She asks, nodding with a pleased hum at your affirmative. “Good. Stay for dinner, okay? I’ve missed you.”

Who are you to deny her that?

Though, even as you try to pretend that you help to set up the table for her benefit, and as you hug Gwen’s little brother tightly when he comes home for his, you know, deep down, that it’s for you. That this is a moment of selfishness that you’ll let yourself have, because god, you deserve it, don’t you?

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It’s thirteen days post Spider Society discovery, and you’re starting to regret the way you discarded that watch so carelessly. Not because you want to be a part of some cult of superheroes, but because you wish you had asked some more questions.

Surely Miguel O’Hara must’ve known a way to stop these villains from appearing in other universes? And if he did, had he already implemented whatever it was to stop Gwen escaping again? How exactly did she escape the first time? Was it a coincidence? Is there somebody out there, working behind the scenes, helping her get out?

You, unfortunately, have no way to answer any of the burning questions nagging at the back of your head. While a part of you hopes that you never see any of the Spider Society weirdos again, you also desperately want answers. Especially if it meant you could call off your visit to Gwen Stacy.

But the day arrives as any other does, and you spend every moment before the drive over to the prison desperately hoping that one of the Spider-people will show their face. None of them do, and you’re left to get into Mrs. Stacy’s car and simply brace for the journey ahead.

You’re pretty sure that swinging would be quicker, or easier, but you had no way to explain that way of transport to an interrogating Mrs. Stacy, and so you had to relent to her insistence on driving you. Now, you sit here, shifting in the seat of the car, uncomfortable without your suit underneath the clothes you used to wear on a daily basis. Even the knowledge that it’s stuffed into the bottom of your tattered backpack in the boot of Mrs. Stacy’s car doesn’t bring you any comfort.

Instead, the rough material of an old jacket has your skin crawling like you were being bitten by a thousand mosquitos, and the trousers on your legs itch like you’re allergic to them.

You suppose, really, that the spider bite that gave you so many powers had to have more drawbacks than just destroying your life. It only makes sense that your heightened senses would extend to the receptors on your skin. It makes every movement in these clothes torturous, and you wonder if it had always been this way, or if you were just so unused to wearing your old style of clothes. Either way, you hope that you won’t have to wear them for much longer.

If it all goes to plan, you should be in and out of the prison, just ensuring that Gwen Stacy is actually in the cell as she’s supposed to be. Then you just have to endure the fifty minute drive back to the city with Mrs. Stacy, and you’re free. You won’t have to wear these clothes again, won’t have to use your name, no — you can just sink back into the half life that is being Arachnid. It’s better that way.

“Okay, honey, here we are.” Mrs. Stacy says at last, having shifted her car into park. She pointedly avoids looking at the looming high-security prison ahead, instead focusing on you as you wipe your sweaty palms against your trousers. “Now you take as much time as you need in there, alright? I’ll be just out here, if you need me.”

You smile tightly at her, nodding with what you hope is more of a grateful expression rather than a grimace. “Thank you, Mrs. Stacy, really. I appreciate it, more than you know.”

That much was true — after all, it wasn’t like you could tell her that she was allowing the vivid paranoia you had been experiencing to be put to rest after her daughter escaped to another universe. Mrs. Stacy, from what you could gather, didn’t even know that Gwen had been missing for any amount of time. She had no idea what Gwen had done, how many more people she had hurt, but you assured yourself that it was better that way. Mrs. Stacy already had to deal with plenty, and that knowledge surely wouldn’t help.

She was already dealing with her own grief and feelings on the situation, as well as trying to support her two sons in the matter. Given what Gwen’s little brother had asked of you when he found out about you visiting her, you knew that he hadn’t been to visit Gwen, either. It seemed that he wasn’t coping with it all very well.

“Of course, you’re family. You should know that by now.” She says, smiling with teary eyes, reaching across the console to grasp your hand tightly in her own.

Her words take a stab at your chest, especially considering what had happened to everybody else who had seen you as family. Dead parents, villainous best friend — it really didn’t bode well for your loved ones. You just reassured yourself with the fact that you’d be able to disappear as soon as the two of you returned to the city. You couldn’t put her in any danger, that way, or her remaining kids.

“I’ll—I’ll see you after, okay?” You respond, squeezing her hand in return before quickly letting go and throwing open the car door, getting out and catching a slither of Mrs. Stacy’s surprised reply before you shut the car door.

There are guards waiting for you at the gates, checking you are who you say you are, scanning you for weapons before you even get in the building. They’re satisfied after their searches, content that you weren’t stupid enough to bring a weapon into a highly secure prison. You keep your focus on your breathing as they walk you in, handing you clothes to change into as well as a box to put all of your belongings in.

The scrub-like clothes they give you are even worse than your own, sending shivers up and down your spine at the feeling of each fibre scraping against your skin. You just try to breathe through it. Luckily, the rest of the security checks blur by, which means less time spent on agonising over this visit. You barely hear a word of the statement they read to you before you go in, and your hand cramps as you write your signature against a dotted line of a waiver. All of the other legal things were sorted out by Mrs. Stacy’s lawyer, which you are more than thankful for.

Instead of having to deal with that, you just have to wait.

You think that the waiting might be the worst part of it all. With the scrubs making your hairs raise and promoting uncomfortable shivers up and down your body, as well as the cold metal seat that they sat you on, you’re far too aware of everything around you. You can hear the hundreds of heartbeats in the buildings, the beeping of security doors, the footsteps heading your way. You can smell the coffee that the head guard in the adjoining room to the one you’re in is drinking, as well as the day-old sandwich in his desk. Worst of all is the way your own heartbeat is thrumming in your throat, padding harshly against your chest, so loud in your own ears that it slowly starts to drown out everything around you.

Gwen’s footsteps are heavy, accompanied by the clinking of the chains she’s shackled in. You can practically hear the maniacal laughter that had come from her whilst in that alternate dimension, even though she’s completely silent as she enters the room.

She smiles at you when you look up, and for a moment you’re fooled — it’s soft, gentle, kind. But then you see the glimmer in her eyes that was distinctly not Gwen, and you feel the scar along your side throbbing with phantom pain.

You smile tensely at the guards, who regard you with looks of gentle concern and caution, before they attach her chains to a link on the floor beside a chair three metres away from where you sit. They nod at you, which you return, and you watch as they go and take their positions beside the door before you move your eyes back to the elephant in the room — which is Gwen Stacy.

“So, you missed me?” She asks, baring her teeth in a grin that has too much teeth to be anything friendly. Gwen regards you closely as you stare at her, watch for any signs of flickering, any signs that this isn’t real. Her brows raise slowly, the longer you’re silent, but you’re in no hurry to talk. “No? Is that not it?”

“Sure, I miss you.” You respond after another stretch of silence, tilting your head to study her more closely. You don’t acknowledge the way that your voice shakes as you speak, the way it comes out in something closer to a croak before you swallow harshly against your dry throat. “Thought I’d come to check in.” You add, brows furrowing to make sure she gets your true meaning.

“Ah,” She voices, then laughs, shoulders shaking, chains clanking loudly against her metal chair. “I get it, now.”

Gwen doesn’t add anything else after that, even though you suspected that she may take this opportunity to loudly claim that you were Arachnid, outing your identity once and for all. Apparently, if she does want to out your identity, she doesn’t want to do it like this, as she stays silent until you speak.

You sit forward on your chair, ignoring the way the guards at the edges of the room shift uneasily at your movement. “Your mom arranged this for me, you know?” You say, eyebrow raised. She probably knows what you’re doing, or what you’re trying to do, but she doesn’t voice it. Instead, she just shifts to lean backwards in her own chair, sighing as if relaxing.

“Hmm, so she can visit.” Gwen says, nodding her head as if it’s all making sense now.

“She can, she just doesn’t want to. Neither does Georgie.” You respond, and find satisfaction in the way her eyes flash at the mention of her little brother, the nickname that the two of you both used to call him. She recovers quickly, but you can tell that she knows it wasn’t quick enough. The Green Goblin cracked, right in front of your very eyes. It’s proof that, if anything, her little brother has some meaning. “He wanted me to tell you something.”

Her head tilts across from you, though she doesn’t move from her laid back position.

You clear your throat, and look at the words you’d written on your skin. She tilts her head forwards the slightest amount, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat, glancing at the guards who look just as uncomfortable as you feel. “He said that he misses his Gwenny, but he doesn’t want you coming home.” You stare at her as you repeat his message, the one he had told you nervously, as if he was truly afraid that Gwen would escape and come back. Her eyes twitch as she focuses on keeping her expression cool, but you know that the words have hit something in her, even if it’s part of the Green Goblin. “Looks like you even ruined your own family.”

You’re up on your feet as she lurches forwards, flung backward from where she tried to go against her chains to rush toward you. The guards are in front of you in mere moments, but you weren’t in any danger. Not as long as she stayed in here.

It’s almost satisfying, to see her chained up. It’s so different to seeing the Green Goblin on the outside, where she could be your Gwen Stacy. Whereas in here, bound by chains of heavy metal, clothed in uncomfortable looking prisoner scrubs, she was nothing but the Green Goblin. It was reassuring, almost, to be able to pick apart something physical between the two.

She bares her teeth at you, animalistic in a way that Gwen never was, and glares at you as you follow one of the guards out of the room, the others closing in on her, ready to take her back to whatever cell she came from.

The clothes you wear become less overbearing as you keep your focus on the guards taking Gwen away the whole way back through security, only switching back to your surroundings when they hand you the tray of your own belongings to change back into. You’re relieved for many reasons, and you try to focus on that feeling as you approach Mrs. Stacy’s car rather than the way your jacket itches.

Mrs. Stacy looks as if she wants to speak as you get in the car, as if she wants to ask about your visit, but she seemingly can’t bring herself to do it. You keep your mouth shut.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Not a month later, your daily activities are back to normal, uninhibited by the daunting idea of Gwen being free. Still, though, you think about her more often, as much as you did in the time after she was put away the first time.

Mrs. Stacy had tried to call you more than once since, and at the two week mark you’d had to invest in a new burner phone. You just couldn’t risk anybody getting a hold of it and seeing her contact, or the ringer going off and exposing your position in a fight. No, it was better for her not to have your number. Besides, you had hers memorised if you needed to call her.

It was better if you tried to reduce any connections to Gwen Stacy. You’d be much better off, the less you thought about her.

Despite knowing that, you couldn’t help it. And despite seeing that crack in the Green Goblin exterior at her little brother’s words, you didn’t have much hope for her. You don’t think they’d let her out of prison even if you could find a cure, somehow. The fact of it was that Gwen Stacy’s life was over. She had no hope of a future in this world, the Goblin had destroyed that. All you could do was remember her and hope beyond anything that in one of those alternate dimensions, you and Gwen were happy together.

The thought of it played on your mind every day, a lingering pain that stung at your eyes. You thought about it so much that you had even imagined the world where Gwen had never become the Goblin, where you and your Gwen were happy. It was a suffocating image, one without any hope of being true, but you couldn’t help thinking about it.

Even as you fought villain after villain, petty criminal after petty criminal, you thought about it. Even now, as you were swinging around a bridge, dodging all the debris this villain was throwing your way, it played on your mind.

It was a distraction, and it was one you needed to get rid of.

That much became certain as the villain you were facing, Tombstone, managed to get a hit on you, sending you flying across the bridge. You landed on a car with a groan, the windshield cracking below you, and you rolled your eyes as the person in the car held a hand on their horn until you managed to climb off, a distinct Arachnid-shaped dent left in the bonnet.

Well, that would be aching tomorrow, that much was for sure.

He grinned where he was stood across the bridge from you, showing off his filed teeth, as if trying to intimidate you with the pointy edges of them.

“You’ve been a formidable foe, Arachnid,” Tombstone says, his voice barely a whisper above the wind, but you can hear him perfectly. You suspect he knows as much, and that only makes you nervous. “But I think it’s time for our battle to come to an end.”

“I actually agree.” You respond, stretching your aching back and feeling a bone shift when it definitely shouldn’t. You can’t help but wince, gritting your teeth and glaring over at Tombstone across the bridge.

You’re getting tired of these villains, of their constant spiel about how the world should be, about how everything should be how they wanted it to be. What was so wrong with the human population that everybody couldn’t just get along? Surely, if everybody got along, listened to each other, the world’s problems would be solved. But then again, this is New York, and it’s a city in which greed is bred.

A light press against your webshooter has you slinging high up on the bridge, staring down at Tombstone as he watches you intently. You’re planning your next move, considering all the variables, when a burst of orange manifests into the air behind him. He looks confused as you falter in your web slinging, dropping slightly before you catch yourself, and he turns around just in time to receive a curled fist to the face, courtesy of a familiar man in a red and blue suit.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” You murmur, lowering yourself to the bridge to approach this Spiderman, glaring at where Tombstone stands, straining against a red barrier that had materialised from the device Spiderman had placed at his feet.

“I hate that guy!” The familiar voice of Peter B. Parker says, shaking his fist as he hops slightly from one foot to the other, his lenses squinted before he finally turns to acknowledge you. “That guy sucks.”

Your brows are furrowed, eyes squinted behind your lenses as you stare at Peter, confused. This Tombstone guy isn’t an anomaly, is he? While you hadn’t faced him before, you knew that there had been a battle between him and another vigilante down in Hell’s Kitchen. And he knew your name, hadn’t been calling you Spiderman like the last anomaly. So why was he here?

Peter sighed, as if he was disappointed to be met with your confusion. “You got a place, kid? Or a burger joint, maybe?”

With that same amount of confusion, you nodded, brows furrowed as cops came to collect Tombstone, who was still in a fit of rage. You can just barely hear him swearing to get you back, both of you, through the barrier. Peter gestured a hand forwards for you to lead the way, and with slight hesitation, you swung off with him following.

Now, the two of you are sat in a Shake Shack, despite you wanting to head back to the offices you were set up in. Peter had ordered two burgers, one for you and one for him, though you had decidedly rejected the one he pushed towards you. He had only shrugged, and accepted it onto his own plate.

“My wife’s pregnant, can’t even stand the smell of these.” Peter groans, stuffing what must’ve been at least a quarter of the burger in his mouth. You just nod at his statement, though you had to admit you were slightly surprised that this guy was going to be a dad. But then again, you’re pretty sure you can remember your dad scoffing down his favourite food in a similar way. “Now listen,” He continues, speaking with his mouthful and paying you no mind as you cringe at the sound. “Miguel wants to strike a sort of… deal with you.”

“Okay?” You respond, brows furrowed. You look around the place, uncomfortable with all the people staring at Arachnid in a booth beside an old man stuffing his face. The lenses of your mask squint with you as you look at Peter, waiting for him to add anything on to explain his statement. “Then why’d he send you?” You ask, at last, when Peter makes no move to speak of his own free will, too engrossed in his second burger.

Peter held up a finger, gulping down a sip of his strawberry milkshake. “Said something about this being good practice for me,” Peter eventually answers, flashing you a smile. “You know, being a new dad and all.”

He seems to realise quickly that that was the wrong thing to say as your eyes narrow further, visible only through the shift of your lenses. The last thing you need is some random guy trying to father you. Even just the idea of it irritates you, makes the very blood rushing in your veins feel hot with anger. You had a dad, and look what good that did you. He’s gone.

Not to mention the implication of you being a child! You’re far from being a kid. You’ve been looking after yourself for some time now just fine. Whatever deal Miguel wants to strike with you is because they need you. Not the other way around. You knew that you shouldn’t have let that Spider-doctor fix you up.

“I’m not some kid. I don’t need you lot, you need me. Don’t get it all twisted, Peter.” You respond as he continues to look like a deer in headlights, clearly kicking himself for revealing what Miguel had said. You keep your voice low, fighting to stay unheard with the quietened air in the diner. “Now hurry up and tell me about whatever bullshit deal you want to strike with me, so I can say no and we can go our separate ways.”

“Kid,” Peter sighs, before immediately wincing as he realised he just directly disregarded your statement about not being a kid. “Sorry, Arachnid,” He corrects, settling his hands on the table in front of him, finally taking a break from his almost-finished food. “Nobody’s saying you can’t do this.”

“Sounds like that’s exactly what you’re saying.” You mutter, averting your eyes from Peter and instead narrowing your lenses at the people still staring in your direction.

“All we’re saying is that you shouldn’t have to do this alone,” He continues, ignoring your interruption with nothing but a quirked brow. “It’s a tough job. Everybody needs someone to look out for them, you know? It’s in our nature to feel responsible for everything around us, as Spider-people. But you can’t carry the whole weight of the world on your shoulders, it’s too much!”

You stare blankly at him, remaining unimpressed with his whole speech.

Peter sighs once more, looking at you with hesitant hope that you’ll come around. Unfortunately, you’re not about to let these people think that you’re incapable. If anything, Peter’s little speech was just adding fuel to your fire. You liked proving people wrong — it’s what you thrived on. You needed to prove them wrong. Because if you didn’t, what did that make you? You couldn’t let people be right about their assumptions of you. If you couldn’t prove everybody wrong, then that meant some of the things people said about you were right. And with the amount of people who accused you of being responsible for more deaths than you saved, who portrayed you as a menace rather than a vigilante, who said you weren’t worthy of your powers, who said whatever divine intervention had given them to you was wrong, you couldn’t let them be right. You wouldn’t.

“I already told you people. I’m not interested.” You spit out at him, feeling your frustration brimming over the edge. Why would nobody just trust you? Was that so much to ask? You understand that you had made mistakes, that you had cost people their lives, but you were trying. Why couldn’t that just be enough?

Peter says nothing as you slide out of the booth, stomping your way out of the Shake Shack as if you were some kind of grumpy teenager. He could only hope that his unborn child was a less grumpy teen, but then again, he was pretty sure you had every right to be miserable. Correcting himself, he could only hope that his unborn child never experienced your reasons for being so miserable.

You make your way towards your office building, swinging through the streets whilst doing your best to keep your heightened hearing down. You really didn’t want to have to deal with anything else, tonight. All you wanted was to get back, to put on the only clothes other than your suit that didn’t make you want to crawl out of your skin. Even if it was just for an hour, you’d take it.

While you had gotten used to how quiet it was in the building a long time ago, you couldn’t help but think that tonight, it felt almost… eerie. There was something tingling, buzzing at the very base of your skull, but even as you strained your hearing, your sight, everything, you couldn’t detect anything out of place. Everything seemed normal, so you couldn’t understand why you were so on edge! It couldn’t just be Peter’s presence, surely, because he posed no threat to you. So what was going on?

Picking up your backpack filled with belongings, you stared around at the empty office, the breeze that flowed through the open window sending a shiver down your spine, even though you weren’t feeling cold. Something wasn’t right. You just couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Hello? Anybody there?” You call out, straining your hearing once more, trying to listen out for even the slightest sound. A movement, a breath, anything, even as you couldn’t help but think that this was the most cliché horror movie like moment that you had experienced to date. Still, you heard nothing, but that nagging feeling didn’t dissipate, and you quickly lost all desire to change out of your suit.

The unease you felt only grew stronger as you stood there, unsure what to make of the feeling. It was quickly growing towards being overwhelming, but you didn’t know what to do.

Luckily for you, you didn’t have to make a decision.

Unfortunately, the decision was made by one of the very people you were trying to prove yourself to.

Peter B. Parker — or at least, you were pretty sure it was him — swung through the very same window you had, only to grasp a hold on your arm and pull you out of the window as he jumped straight back out of it.

Now, you had been Arachnid for a long time now. You had gotten used to the swinging, to the way your stomach dipped and your throat tightened, but you had never experienced it where you weren’t the one in control. Finally, you understand why people you brought to safety had, on occasion, thrown up immediately after you set them down on their feet again. The feeling of falling, of having no choice but to trust somebody else to catch you, it was terrifying.

But what was infinitely more terrifying was the way that the very floor of the building you had just been stood on exploded.

The blaze was blinding, even with your lenses protecting your eyes, but the noise that came moments later was much, much worse. And sure, you had been around explosions before, but never one that big, never so close. And never so unprepared for one.

Your ears were ringing, and you vaguely realised that you had become dead weight in your shock, with Peter struggling to keep his grasp on your arm firm. After a moment, you had the sense to grab his forearm in return, trying to assist him in holding you up. He didn’t seem as effected by the explosion in comparison to you, and you wondered if he’d had the time to put earbuds in his ears as you had sometimes done before a fight. Either way, you were insanely envious as the pain in your ears increased, leaving you struggling to focus on holding on to Peter.

When he set you down, which couldn’t have been more than a minute after he had grabbed you, considering you could still see the office building smouldering, you had to hold a hand over your mouth even over your mask, trying to rid yourself of nausea. Smoke was leaking into the darkening sky, and you saw the flash of sirens below, but heard nothing other than the distinctive ringing that felt like it was melting your brain.

Peter’s hand was squeezing your shoulder, and after a moment in which you didn’t acknowledge him, he was gripping your other shoulder with his spare hand, shaking you the slightest bit. You looked up at him with a groan, squinting past the floating lights in your vision to see that his mouth was moving, no sound coming out. You shook your head, trying to get rid of that incessant ringing, but it didn’t work. You dropped your chin to your chest again, hands bracing against your ears as if they could ease your pain, and you didn’t make a move as Peter removed one hand from your shoulder.

Mere moments later, the same tingling you had felt before the building you were in exploded returned, stronger, more intensely. Your head snapped up, frantically looking around, paying Peter no mind as he spoke into the orange-glowing watch on his wrist. You breathed through your nose, trying not to cough at the smoke permeating the air, and you just managed to push Peter over the edge of the roof of the building, with you diving after him, as another explosive went off.

That explosion was smaller than the last one, and the only reason you had managed to avoid it was because you knew it was coming. You knew what the alarm bells in your head were trying to tell you now, and you spotted the projectile just seconds before it reached your feet.

Part of you was glad that your senses were dulled from the first explosion — your hearing, especially, as it meant you were less effected by the close-range on this one. You saw Peter’s eyes widen as he looked up above you at where the explosion had just occurred. You just about managed to web him before shooting a web towards the next building, feeling something in your shoulder pull sharply with his extra weight and the suddenness of the move.

You squinted down at him as he gripped the web attached to his chest with one hand, his lips moving more frantically as he spoke to a hologram projected by the watch on his other hand.

“Shit, what is going on?” You asked, though mostly to yourself, but the only way you could tell you had even voiced the words was by the way they rumbled out of your throat. That explosion had messed up your hearing, for the moment, anyway, and you quickly realised that with your slow healing and the ringing in your ears, this fight was going to be majorly difficult.

You only had a moment to think that, before something snapped the web that was holding you to the building, sending both you and Peter falling through the air. Embarrassingly, you’re pretty sure that you let out a yell of some sort.

All the air was knocked out of you the next second as something hurtled into you, sending you careening towards the windows of the closest building. Peter, for a moment, had a shocked expression on his face, before he seemingly realised what was going on, smiling and letting out a string of words that you didn’t hear. You groaned as your sore back collided with the window, smashing upon your impact, and you were sent sprawling over a desk, a monitor breaking underneath your sudden weight.

Yet again, there was a hand against your shoulder, and you paid it no mind as your head dropped back, thudding against the desk. You couldn’t help but groan, the duress that your back had been under today was certainly taking its toll, leaving your whole spine throbbing with pain. On top of that, you were struggling to catch your breath, and with the sudden adrenaline provided by the spider-sense fading, the intensity of the pain in your ears was increasing.

Finally, you managed to peel your eyes open to see a concerned Peter B. Parker looking at you, with Miguel O’Hara stood beside the shattered window, staring out menacingly, as if daring whoever it was to attack again. Peter said something else, squeezing your shoulder, and all you could do in response was hold up one thumb.

Miguel seemingly barked out an order over his shoulder, and a moment later, you were squinting against the bright orange light of a portal.

Peter was hauling you to your feet, leaning to hold one of your arms over his shoulder, practically carrying your weight towards the portal looming ahead. “No, no, wait,” You said, and you felt the way your words slurred as you became slightly delirious with a mixture of pain, adrenaline, and desperation. “Stop, I gotta—”

He only shook his head, before tipping the two of you forward until you both fell into the portal.

The dizzying feeling of inter-dimensional travel definitely didn’t help the pounding in your temples, nor the nausea you had previously been feeling, and you had no choice but to try and focus on Peter’s grip on you as you squeezed your eyes shut. When the world finally stopped spinning, or feeling like it was falling away around you, you opened your eyes just enough to take note of where you were — which was back in the Infirmary of the Spider Society HQ.

You shook Peter off, standing on your own weight and waving him away when he tried to assist you as you swayed once more. You glared, eyes narrowed, and turned to head straight back through the portal you had come from, only to see it close before your very eyes.

The same Spider-Doctor from the last time you were here snapped a band around your wrist, and you squinted down at the red and blue band. It made you feel lighter, even slightly, which felt good on your aching bones and muscles. You opened your mouth to speak as the Spider-Doctor led you to sit down on an empty bed with white sheets, but you vaguely saw the way his mask shifted as he presumably spoke. You couldn’t tell what he was saying with his mask on, but a minute later, you felt a sharp prick against the inside of your elbow.

You just about had the lucidity to murmur “You fucker—” before you succumbed to the weight of your eyelids.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

When you woke up, it was to a throbbing pain in your forehead, that only got worse when you tried to open your eyes. At the very least, you were glad to have your hearing returned to you, albeit slightly muffled, which you were only aware of because the sound of voices across the room was the reason for you waking.

“I’m just saying, maybe knocking the kid out wasn’t the greatest idea!” Peter B. Parker’s annoyingly loud voice says, slightly high pitched in the end. Who he was saying it to, however, you couldn’t say, not without opening your eyes. And that didn’t feel like a good idea, the lights even with your eyes closed feeling like too much.

Instead, you just groan, bringing your hand up to rest over both of your eyes. “It wasn’t a great idea.” You say through gritted teeth, more than annoyed over the situation you found yourself in. Honestly, what did these people have against leaving you be? Why did they think they had any right to tell you what to do, or how to handle things, or to overrule you when it came to your own treatment?

“Hey, kid!” Peter responds, drawing the letters out in that typical oh shit voice. From the snippet of the conversation you had caught, at least he was seemingly trying to advocate for your consciousness. However, that didn’t change the fact that he was there when that Spider-Doctor knocked you out. No, you were still pissed. And when you got your hands on that doctor? He was in for it.

Any other thoughts or feelings on the matter were overturned when you realised that your hand was resting over your eyes, not the lenses of your mask.

Who do these people think they are?

You open your mouth to jump into a rant on that exact subject, on the audacity that they all have, but find yourself silenced by somebody grabbing onto your free wrist, and seemingly dropping your mask into your hand. You feel it until you’ve got it the right way around, and then pull it over your face.

The lights are much more bearable with your lenses back over your eyes, but it’s still painful, and still worsens that pounding in your head. But it does mean that you can see who’s around you; Peter, Miguel and the Spider-Doctor. You have half the mind to leap at that doctor, but Miguel is raising placating hands in your direction before you can make the move to do so.

“Let’s all calm down.” Miguel says, placing his hands on his hips when your eyes only narrow at him.

“What is wrong with you? Who gave you people the right to—to take off my mask? To knock me out? Hell, to come to my universe and get in my business!” You practically yell out, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the way your back hurts with the movement and glaring when the three of them step forward to help you.

“If Peter hadn’t gotten there when he did, you would’ve died.” Miguel responds plainly, seemingly aggravated by your irritation. One of his arms is raised in a gesture towards the man, who smiles almost guiltily, as if helping you was a crime. Which, in your mindset, it might as well have been. “There was an anomaly, a villain from another dimension targeting you.”

“I can handle myself.” You spit out, though the way the room spins when you stand is almost a direct contrast to your words. Your blood is rushing through your veins, and you realise that there’s a machine beeping next to you, increasing in frequency. As you look, you realise it’s measuring your heart rate, and you yank wires off of you that you hadn’t even noticed before, as if they were exposing you somehow. “And that doesn’t give you the right to take off my mask. Who does that?”

Spider-Doctor raises his hands, as if surrendering, though seems unintimidated by the way your glare switches to him. “It was necessary. Your hearing was severely damaged by the explosion, you needed treatment. You have dampening-buds in your ears now, while your healing catches up.” While that sounds reasonable, it only makes you angrier. Why did these people even care if some anomaly killed you? If your hearing was damaged? Why did they insist on bothering you?

Miguel sighs, pinching his nose, before he lifts his head up to speak to you again. You just about stop yourself from making a snotty comment about his attitude. You didn't even want to be here, and here he was, acting like dealing with you was such an inconvenience to him. It was frustrating. “Your universe seems to be at some sort of epicentre of anomalies, and we don’t know why. Yet.”

“We’re just trying to keep you safe. You can’t deal with all of those anomalies alone, nobody can. Sometimes, you need a team.” Peter says softly, like he could convince you of the matter. “Believe me, you don’t want to learn that the hard way.” He adds on, smiling almost hesitantly, as if there’s a memory he’s thinking of connected to his own words.

You’re sighing through your nose, your teeth gritting together as you regard them. “Okay, fine, you want to come take out your anomalies, or whatever? You do that. But anything more than that isn’t welcome.” You say, at last, your eyes narrowed towards them as you wait for their responses.

You still don’t really understand it, any of it, but it’s becoming clear that you have no choice but to deal with these people. Apparently, they were not budging on all of this stuff, which — fine, so long as they stay out of your way. The last thing you need is a bunch of Spider-people stepping on your toes, or making you seem incapable in front of the citizens of your own dimension when in the end, they’ll all up and leave.

After all, you can remember your mother telling you how important it is to do things yourself. The moment you start accepting help, you relax, and when they decide they don’t want to help you anymore? You’re screwed, your sense of independence reduced to ashes. And as Arachnid, there’s far too much at stake to risk that happening.

“Here,” Miguel says, only nodding his agreement — or at least, that’s what you assume the nod was for. He throws a watch towards you, and you catch it with some confusion. “In case you see any anomalies before we do.” He explains as he watches you fiddle witht he watch in both hands, glaring down at it as if it was offensive. He’s relatively satisfied when you relax at that explanation. While Miguel doesn’t voice what else it’s for, knowing you’d only get irritated and refuse the watch, he’s silently hoping that you’ll understand. It’s so you can come to them, if you need them. They can only hope that they’ll be able to tell you that, one day, before it’s too late, without the offer scaring you off.

“So, I’m good to go?” You ask, looking between the three Spider-Men still staring at you and the watch you hesitantly clasp around your wrist. They nod, or, Peter and Miguel do, while the Spider-Doctor throws his hands in the air, exasperated.

“That dimension is yours,” Peter says, leaning over to see the screen of your watch. “The button at the bottom will input this dimension as the destination. Just press that,” He points to another button, “To open the portal to whichever dimension has been typed in.”

You nod, still pissed that he’d let the Spider-Doctor knock you out, but at least you didn’t give him a snarky comment. Instead, you just pressed the button to go back to your own dimension, and stepped through the portal the moment it was big enough for you to go through.

You didn’t expect for him to follow you through.

“Hey, listen,” Peter says, almost reluctantly, as if he doesn’t want to upset you. When you turn to him, he raises his hands, as if to further prove that sentiment. “I am sorry that he knocked you out, I didn’t know he was going to do that.”

“Okay, fine, apology accepted.” You say, flatly, turning to survey where exactly you are. It doesn’t take you long to notice the remains of the building you had been camping out in, the building charred and the air still thick with all the smoke that had been produced.

“I wasn’t done,” Peter sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose momentarily. “I also wanted to say that I’m sorry about your building. And I wanted to ask, well, mention about how when Doctor-Peter took off your mask, he noticed you don’t have anything protecting your ears, like other Spiders with your level of enhanced hearing do.”

You turn to stare blankly at him, while mulling through where exactly you’re going to stay in your head. If you’re being honest, you’re not paying his words much mind. So what, you don’t have anything protecting your hearing? Sure, sometimes you had stuffed earbuds into your ears when you knew you were going into a rough fight, but you didn’t know when some psycho exploded your building right in front of you. Plus, it’s not like you have unlimited resources to figure out some way of protected your ears under your mask while also letting you effectively use your hearing.

“Okay? And?” You ask, voice edging on the side of boredom. In all honesty, you just want to be left alone. You want to put on your comfy clothes, curl up into a ball and go to sleep so you can dream of a world where everything is okay. The likelihood of that happening is small, but not impossible, right?

“Well,” Peter hesitates then, which piques your interest the slightest bit. “Here, I had these made back when my hearing was crazy sensitive, but it’s not anymore, so I got no use for them!” He says, holding out two blue and red earbuds in a clear case. “You gotta wait until your ears are healed up to use ‘em, but I figured they’d do you more good than me.”

For a moment, you’re ready to deny him. To glare and insist that you don’t need his help. But then, he had said that they were originally for him, and he didn’t need them any longer, so really, would it be so bad to take them? To accept this one thing? To allow yourself to be saved of this tiniest bit of pain?

“You’re sure?” You ask, likely the least aggressive you’d spoken to him, though that’s not to say that it was asked softly. You were still firm on not accepting their help, on doing your own thing, but you could accept this much, surely? It couldn’t hurt.

Peter smiles, a short laugh leaving him, and he waves the box towards you. “I’m sure!”

“…Thanks.” You say, shortly, as you accept the earbuds offered to you. He also hands you the backpack that you had lost track of after the attack, and you accept that far more quickly. You’re glad that it feels the exact same weight as it did the last time you held it, before you shove the earbuds into the opening and zip it back up.

There’s a portal still open on the rooftop the two of you stand on, and Peter backs up to go towards it almost reluctantly. “Also, if you need somewhere to stay—”

“Don’t push it,” You respond, quickly, cutting him off before he could finish what he was saying. He doesn’t take offence to your abruptness, and smiles with a nod, before he disappears into the portal. You stare out at the city around you, looking in the direction of another building you had been very reluctant to return to. “What is my life?” You ask yourself, rhetorically, because you don’t know how you’d even answer that.

You glance behind you to ensure the portal is closed, before jumping off the rooftop, freefalling, relishing in the way the cold wind soothes the pain in your back. Before long, though, you have to shoot a web to catch yourself. You head towards the only place you know will be suitable for you, but can’t shake the way the thought of it chills you.

All you can do is hope that this multiverse stuff will be over with, and soon.

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kingshovelbug · 3 months

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im sorry but i need to geek out somewhere and screaming into the void on tumblr is less likely to get me flayed than on twitter, especially if i get terms wrong. plus i can do a read more and yall can click into the tech talk if you want to verse it bombarding your twitter timelines

so idk if i only liked it or if i actually put it in my queue but i saw a post that talked about a few pieces of tech that focus on user repairs and being sustainable (fairphone and frameworks laptop) and after doing some more research into what they have to offer i actually really excited that these products are finely hitting the us market and that people are moving away from the belief that super smooth streamlined glassy = the future. being able to reliably repair and keep what you have alive verse throwing the whole thing away when maybe all you needed to do is add more ram to your current laptop (something that i would do with my laptop to keep using it for a few more years if it wasnt glued shut and i was at risk of cracking the screen) or swap out a fuse.

i know big corporations dont like it but i truly do believe with how much tech we use on a daily basis that the way that we are going to be more environmentally friendly is to move back to tech that we can hang onto for as long as we can and to recycle and then reuse what we cant. like with the frameworks laptop. i saw that they just partnered with coolermaster to create a case specifically so that you can reuse you motherboard, cpu, etc and make a portable workstation. you could dual wield with the laptop you just upgraded if you want to dedicate specific tasks to one or the other. they also specifically mentioned that you could screw it into the back of a monitor and create your own all in one. guys thats cool as shit??? if you had a 3d printer and some time you could even create that yourself

on top of the actual hardware part moving to open source programs when your able. when i update my desktop i plan on running linux. it might have a learning curve compared to windows but in terms of performance??? ive heard that it runs smoother even on older machines, that its more efficient because isnt running stuff in the background that tracks your data and shit. now i understand that not everyone can do that because there are some programs that dont play nice with linux but for my needs at least it does everything i would need it to. and maybe a couple years down the road we do figure out how to run these programs on certain flavors of linux since its open source and people fiddle with it so much. (still looking for alternatives to like word and excel though, i use google docs since its free but i want to move away from them as much as i can too since they laid of their youtube music team (i believe?? it might of been a different branch) for trying to unionize)

if anyone knows of any other smaller companies that actually focus on sustainability and user repairability please let me know. theres certain pieces of tech that i think are now unfortunately behind a software repair paywall, things that used to be just machines and are gaining more bells and whistles like cars and refrigerators if that makes sense. but the more we push for these things to be repairable by us the consumers id hope that would change, or there would at least be options that dont need specific companies to repair them or else they blow up

#personal

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choccy-milky · 7 months

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hey! They already asked you but I don't know if you forgot hehe, what are the mbti of Clora and Sebastian? 😸

OK, I FINALLY HAVE AN ANSWER!! took me a hot minute to figure out sebs, but after reading all the pages and comparing, i do think entp fits him the best. also i saw this picture on pinterest about a relationship between isfj and entp and its so true, esp the "do not listen to each other's advice, still get each other out of trouble" LMFAO. also the 'protecting isfj at all costs' 🥺🥺🥺im soft. (ALSO DONT COME AT ME I KNOW I SPELLED KNOWLEDGEABLE WRONG IM TOO LAZY TO FIX IT😭) OKAY!! and its been a while so i'll be using this ask to reply to a buncha others🙏🙏

my fanfic does follow the plot of the game, but with sebastian added to every sidequest/story mission. and then from around the third (niamh's) trial, it starts to branch more into (mostly all) original stuff!^^

yes actually LMAO, clora's lawley-slap wasn't even planned. but as i was writing it i started to get so offended on her behalf i was like GIRL, SLAP THIS BITCH🤬 so she did😇😇 id say its normal, yeah! even tho i stick to my outlines, a lot of what happens just kinda happens without my prior planning as i begin to write bahaha, especially dialogue scenes.

aw, im glad u like my blog so much and that it can help u even in the smallest of ways 😭thank u!!💖💖

BAHAHA AWW TYY IM GLAD U LIKE IT SO MUCH!! i saw u re-reading it recently on wattpad and ur comments always have me dying. also im just gonna address your other ask here in this one, but as u know seb has now met mr.clemons, and you 10000% nailed the dynamic between seb and clora's dad LMFAOO, they will absolutely bond over disagreeing with how careless she is and wanting to protect her/stressing over her LOOL. ty again for all ur messages, i love seeing how much u love my art/fic😭💖

OMG u are so right i need to draw this

also god idk....following the sebinis example, i guess they'd be...sebora?? reminds me of sephora LMAO. ive also had someone call them "alliteration shipping" which i think is so cute BAHAHA. HONESTLY PPL CAN JUST SAY WHATEVER THEY WANT, i aint picky.

oh god its been too long since ive read the books (tho i do really wanna re-read them esp in the winter) but my fav movie is half blood prince, just because i love all the ron/hermione moments and the highschool drama BAHAHA. what do u mean harry potter isnt a romcom??? ok and last but DEFS not least

THE UNHINGED ENERGY OF THIS ASK CRACKED ME UP SO MUCH WHEN U SENT IT BAHAHAH, couldnt even fit the whole thing in my screenshot. IM GLAD U LIKED/HATED THE CHAP, and also your pfp just makes everything you say funnier, i love it LMAOOO. ty🙏🙏

#ask #ALSO SEB AND CLORA BEING DEFENDER AND DEBATOR IS AN ALLITERATION it was meant to be......#i go from drawing filthy smut to a wholesome mbti pic of the two of them awww #the duality of man

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silantryoo · 2 months

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as much as im annoyed by the potential implications of the mhj/hybe drama i do feel like theres way too much speculation rn ... rlly doesn't sit so well with me that everyone is bashing on mhj alone (im not supporting her either though) and not bang sihyuk too. some hybe stans rlly js worship the guy and idk why . its not like he's innocent too. like those texts from him are so annoying too. abt if she's satisfied that nwjns is so popular and also abt trying to rival aespa / bp alone ...

hybe has sm power and r known for their mediaplay so i rlly do wish people would keep that in mind instead of doing their own speculation to bash on mhj . we don't know fs if she's the reason behind seunghan, youngseo, etc .... it seems so forced that everyone just collectively is making stuff up on their own theories and pissing on her. like im all for it when everything's done with but it's giving misogyny to me ughhh idk how to explain it eitherr without sounding like a mhj stan I PROMISE IM NOT TAKING HER SIDE T_T i just cant help but feel like poeple find it easier to hate and bash on women sometimes. even me scrolling x nowadays feels so annoying. literally feel so bad for illit and nwjns rn.

personally i was a teeny annoyed that illit had a similar image to nwjns w their nostalgia/coquettecore (also though just seems like cute/youthful concept is making a cb in general in kpop) but only because their songs on super real me were the exact type of songs i liked most from nwjns (super shy, hurt etc. the softer less peppy songs compared to hybe boy) so it bothered me that there was an implication that nwjns might be forced to distance itself to a more differing concept to keep some contrast btwn the two ... but ik that's not illit's fault at all (literally love the girls sm im a runext fan ^^) i feel like i can understand the upset that illit was getting a similar concept when every other grp before illit in hybe had more defined concepts seperating each other. but once again that's all hybe's doing ...... seeing the choreographers supporting mhj too makes it seem like not even the nwjns team or even all the staff were on board with the references in the choreo either...

anyways i do hope this controversy doesnt impede on either grps promos :( and i rlly hope everything gets sorted out... im srsly hoping this doesnt turn into a 5050 situtation again but with nwjns i was so upset when that happened . was curious on what your thoughts were or if u were keeping up with everything?

the way im coming back to reply to this first thing after my exams is insane, but this nwjns thing makes me so angry for all the idols under hybe. both parties j cares sm ab money that they're blindsided by the potential of ruining their idols careers, mental health and images. mhj is being stupid and hybe does seem to be doing anything to protect nwjns (as far as we know. i could be wrong).

(yawl, jsyk i obv dont have ALL the information. from what ive seen online and the articles ive read, this is what I THINK. ME. youre free to think smthn else, whether i agree or not.)

i def thing that bang hyung sik (bhs) isn't innocent either. although min heejin (mhj), in my opinion, is more in the wrong j based on the treatment of other idols, bhs seemed to provoke her, and on top of that, the company seems to blindly support ppl and give them a platform so long as they make profit for the company. ive been seeing a lot of ppl saying hes j human but youd think theres a reason why mhj got kicked from sm, yk? and you j took her back in w open arms.

hybe is v good at media play fs. its their forte, and ppl seemed to stray from the from the main problem. mhj is using nwjns as a weapon. hybe probably is doing the same thing w their other groups too, dont get me wrong. ppl seem to forget that this entire issue isnt "drama", its a legal battle ensuing between a huge corporation and its subsidiary. hybe has infinite power compared to ador. its horrible on both ends.

the thing is tho, mhj has consistently been showing the public red flags. the lyrics of 'cookie (ik she didnt write the lyrics but shes the ceo. she got them approved)', the portraits gifted to her of naked underaged girls, her obsession w olivia hussey (who happens to look like minji), her treatment of sm employees, her past work w shinee (sexualization of underaged taemin), etc. not to mention her extremely (at least in my eyes) inappropriate relationship w nwjns. the gifts shes gotten them and how she uses their emotions as a weapon. if bhs did that, everyone would be up in arms.

i dont think (for the most part) this is misogyny. i think ppl alw had a weird feeling about her. at least i did.

idt its good to speculate on ppls departure tho. youre def right ab that. the lsfm hate train (esp the coachella one) most likely has nothing to do w mhj. and i do agree that hybe copied or was at least inspired by nwjns, but idt illit copied them. illit and nwjns have a very 'pinkpantheress' sound, the uk early 00's bedroom pop genre. however, nwjns is more y2k and illit is more dream-like, ykwim? hybe was def inspired by nwjns tho. i think a more fitting one would be tws tbh. their sound is v similar to me (emphasis on to me) than illit.

dont get me wrong, it's incredibly shady and the way that a lot of staff are on her side makes me think that hybe was leeching off of the success of nwjns. it referenced all girl groups under hybe tho, lsfm and fromis, but there was def more nwjns references.

what im worried ab the most are the groups, esp nwjns. lsfm has been going thru their own struggles and rn this isnt the best for them, but theyre not extremely involved in the situation, not like nwjns and illit. illit, from what ive seen, has majority of the success and recognition from overseas. however, their success in korea'll take a huge hit. itll def take a toll on the girls mental, considering they j debuted and this happened.

nwjns is the worst off. theres a chance they might leave w mhj if ador does pull away from hybe, which isnt in the groups best interest. mhj's press conference and overall attitude is gonna affect their upcoming release fs, and their proximity to mhj herself is worrisome.

hybe doesnt seem to be doing shit to protect their artists, they're j protecting their name. theres no statement on or for illit, no statement on malicious comments for any of the groups (that i know of).

tldr: min heejin and hybe are both at fault. dont take sides of either, take the side of the idols.

sorry, im j so passionate ab this. the shit ive been seeing online has been making me mad. after getting back from the lsfm hate train too... as mad as i am at mhj, hybe GAVE her that platform. if the things they claim is true, and if the speculation is true, they alr knew from her past employment that she was shady. its their fault for allowing that.

#—silan replies;#j a little rant :)

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theosconfessions · 2 months

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It's 10+ years in your sims future. Where are they at that time compared to where they are right now in your story?

omg this was a good one. and ive been thinking about it since i seen it during work. thank you for sending this to me love. although i cannot say for certain this is how things will go down...i have some things in my head that would realistically happen.

Theos old now. hes not so great at keeping up with his health/medications as is. in ten years i see him rapidly declining [unless he starts taking care of himself cough cough which he needs to cough cough] he puts on a good show but that doesnt last for long. UNLESS. he makes a turn here.

I see Blake and Riv figuring their shit out and just being happy. Maybe having a few more kiddies besides Teddie. Honestly theyre so fucking cute together .and they never fight. which is refreshing bc man. some of my babes.

Scarlett ....... i guess we'll see who wins the bachelorette challenge haha! ..[and if she ends up pregnant by the end of it ] shes harder to read because im in the final four in my gameplay and its REALLY close. one place i know she wont be is with Sid haha! i do see her healing from that though.

Dustin.... is as hard to read as scarlett. and ill tell you why. its because of Theo and its because of Finnie. One thing he for sure will keep doing is his ghost hunts though. they make him so happy. he does want more kids but the twins are a lot to handle. so i dont know. maybe when theyre older.

Finnie is my new love but hes going globetrotting. HOWEVER. he wont be gone for long and will be back in theo and dustins hometown in no time. :)

Robin is my uncomplicated girlie. She sees all the shit that Riv and Blake went through and shes like ill have none of that. i want to see her happy without someone being a total punk ass to her.

marlee still wont leave jami alone and vice versa so i suspect thatll continue.

idk. this really gave me some thinking. thanks love !!

#asks #text #this gave me some thoughtss #thank you again love

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mugentakeda · 6 months

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oh sorry!! misinterpreted!! pls tell me abt his 500 mental illnesses and horrors please

NO UR FINE HEHEHDHSHD i figured id get an ask abt it at some point cus most people dont talk abt iroh in such deranged ways.... but . idk i really just sort of take literal facts abt iroh and stretch them so they become hcs??? and i also take little worldbuilding hcs ive seen other people have and adopt them because it adds spice.

this is gonna get long and crazy cus its just me musing about shitty iroh qualities ive noticed and trying to clown a bit in his pov so im gonna put it all under a cut. read it only if you dare thoughf

first of all. iroh is like a hypocrite among all hypocrites. its funny as it is pathetic. sometimes he knows it and tries to adjust his thinking because after all he DOES actively try to change himself for the better. sometimes he knows it and just doesnt care. maybe feels guilty for not caring, maybe he sometimes doesnt feel guilty. and sometimes he doesnt notice it at all because well. 6 years of changing yourself means what exactly to 30 something years of being one of the biggest baddest fn ghouls???? theres still a lot of unlearning to do, and he thinks he can be all hoity toity grand lotus. like boy bye. i think that if he knew he would work to submit to humility and i say that genuinely but sometimes old fire nation crown prince habits die hard. he wears silk robes under his armor baby. he was the spoiled rotten eldest son!!! theres a way you can balance iroh actively practicing humility but also him being patronizing and holier-than-thou.

iroh spent years and decades believing in the fire nations old cause. i bet yall anything the siege wasnt his only crime, just the biggest and most notorious. and on top of that hed believed that taking down ba sing se was his destiny from a vision that had been sent by the spirits. as if spirits gaf abt war shit humans do like boy youre just delusional and have always been delusional. but im sure that everyone took it seriously cus im p sure fn folk take spirit stuff seriously considering the fire lord is supposed to be like... a god human and his word is divine law or whatever idfk.

lu tens death was world shattering to iroh beyond belief if it managed to break that. iroh is a spiritual guy and takes spirits dead seriously, and if he believed him taking ba sing se was decreed by agni- well. look at how hard it was for zuko to give up those beliefs, and he was only sixteen and his track list is prob mickey mouse size compared to irohs. thats why lu ten being just a mentioned ghost character kinda bothers me cus i think if we knew more abt him itd put just how earth shattering his death was into more perspective. if he meant that much to iroh that it stopped iroh from caring when fn folks care so much about their cause, awful as it is, then he mustve been something special.

as for how iroh is with women i couldnt give you a good answer on that. the fn doesnt really seem to have roles like the nwt so i dont think its a common fn man thing to objectify women. which means thats just an iroh specific thing. which is insane??? but i watch one piece which has sanji in it so ive seen far worse but still. this isnt the objectify women olympics. i think as far as i can remember the only time iroh had been annoying and needed to be curb stomped about it was with june and then every other time it was reciprocated flirting with women his age but i digress. itd be pretty funny if lu tens birth in general almost became a scandal because iroh didnt know who the hell the mother was. This isnt one of his 500 mental illnesses though its just an annoying iroh quality ive noticed. Lets cut his dick off

NOW BACK TO MY FIRST POINT specifically ab him being a hypocrite and knowing it and feeling guilty but also sometimes not feeling guilty. i was talking abt him and azula. I have no idea if iroh knows how similar he and his niece are. frankly i believe itd be funny if he didnt because hes deluded as hell. i know people say oh iroh doesnt like azula bc she reminds him of himself WELL I THINK IROH DOESNT LIKE AZULA BECAUSE SHE REMINDS HIM OF OZAI. as if iroh would compare her to himself!! hes not that gd self aware. which comparing her to ozai is very unfair to azula and stupid i know. and humans do and think things that are very unfair and stupid and hurt the people around them. and its sad and it sucks but thats just how it is. him being the age that he is beefing with a teenager is a bad look and these bad looks are what make iroh whole and human and a shitty uncle. i dont hate him for it but i also think azula can rip his face off like a rabid chimpanzee for it if she felt that way

i think its like, he knows that azula is only 14 and is only doing what ozai teaches her and will just get the short end of the stick at the end of the day because thats just how ozai is, and thats when he feels guilty. but then shes manipulating and pulling zukos emotional strings like hes a puppet and shes rushing in with a smirk thats identical to ozais and shes rushing at zuko and thats when he stops feeling guilty and stops caring about her age and only cares about what she can do and what she will do and attacks her the same way hed attack anyone else. crushing her hand in his own and then kicking her in the face off war ships.

and then i think that guilt about her age and seeing it as just something that war does to even children eventually wears off entirely and all he can see when he looks at her is his own brother, and that means he needs to keep her far away from zuko no matter what. so yeah i think he really meant it when he said he thinks azula is crazy and that she needs to go down and no i dont think hed have too much of an issue with being the one to do that if it meant zukos safety. how does iroh feel like shit over lu ten dying but not over the idea of possibly killing his niece? couldnt tell you. i know a lot of people think its misogyny on irohs part and i mean. maybe?????? but i honestly dont think so. i think blaming it on misogyny actually makes their beef less intriguing, if anything. i think he just hates azula for azula.

and i dont even think comparing azula to ozai is something he only does with azula. i bet there are times where zuko shows his soft side and instead of being filled with love and admiration for his nephew who is compassionate despite it all, the first thing that comes to his head is look at that, look at how hes not entirely like ozai, theres still hope for an honorable and idealistic leader for our nation in the future. like i said before, old habits die hard. sometimes iroh Has to think like a general with his family for the wellbeing of literally everyone else on the planet but in moments like that, its just unfair to zuko as his nephew. thats something i dont think he even realizes is bad of him as an uncle- that hes made himself one of many people that only ever compare zuko to the shadows of his family members that loom over them.

which then moves us to the question of, do i think iroh projects his feelings about lu ten onto zuko. my answer? sort of yes?? but sort of no?? sort of no because zuko makes that impossible. even if i personally hc that there was a lot of lu ten that iroh didnt know, the lu ten that iroh knew couldnt be anymore different than zuko. so iroh cant use the same parenting techniques on zuko, he cant have the same quiet and casual moments with zuko, theres no teasing and banter and rough housing with zuko. lu ten had been self assured in the way a boy can be when he has a father that doesnt instill fear into him.

However comma. i think that paternal love and adoration is the same as the kind he had for lu ten. that protectiveness is the same. theres the amused affection at how similar lu ten and zukos stubborness is, how expressive their irritation is- the way they both flail their hands around and in the air whenever they get frustrated. their undying dedication, the honor and belief in justice. it took iroh forever to see the similarities, only until he got to know zuko a little better aboard the ship. its the same feelings and most of the time that new love makes iroh feel new.

but i also think that sometimes its agony. sometimes that desperation and mourning of lu ten, wishing there was something, anything, iroh could do or give to bring him back, manifests in the form of if zukos wellbeing isnt at a certain standard at all times im going to lose my mind. its one thing for zuko, who is young and hurting, to be codependent on iroh. its another for iroh to be codependent on zuko. he hopes zuko never stops thinking iroh is just a worrywart, that iroh is just kind of overbearing in the way annoying grown ups are, because if he ever stopped and saw the truth, the terrified desperation that iroh has to make sure zuko gets out of this year alive??? i dont even know what iroh would do if zuko died during the show if im being honest. thats something thats beyond my comprehension lol.

i think for a while irohs dedication is this gross mix of codependency onto zuko and zukos overall wellbeing, but also this weird convoluted mess of guilt over lu ten that he doesnt want to relive with his nephew so this is like.... something he thinks he owes zuko. which hurts and sucks but i think those two things can and do co exist. i dont think irohs love for zuko becomes entirely uneffected by lu ten and the loss of lu ten until like. literally book 3.

and im serious about that too i think the "owing zuko something" bit had been stronger in book 1 when iroh had been more apathetic but then in book 2 when iroh was literally Living in lu tens grave site and im pretty sure even losing sight of zuko in ba sing se would be enough to freak iroh out. irohs a general and a genius in strategy, but the instincts of a parent- a stressed one, because you cant tell me that just because iroh is endeared by the people of ba sing se that thats enough to qwell his fears- squashes all of that into dust. hes living in the grave site of his son. him and zuko could be recognized. his contacts warned him of the dai li and long feng. he only truly relaxes until zuko comes back through the door. he only truly sleeps well when he can feel his nephews bright and alive chi near him.

and i think that when he mourns lu ten and is scared for zukos life in the earth kingdom he hates himself more than hes ever hated himself ever since losing lu ten in the first place. the personal killer of so many earth kingdom sons, so many earth kingdom fathers lives that he personally ruined, and here he is, alive.

But then thats when rationality and humility leaves him and that royal selfishness shows itself- he knows hes the one at fault- the murderer of earth kingdom sons of all ages, daughters of all ages, elderly, mothers and fathers, babies and toddlers, homeless that dont have the means to scurry to the inner walls and hide in homes, family pets and family livestock, ash and blood in the water that they need to drink and cook the food they had left with, running out of supplies, running out of the medicine pregnant mothers need to ease their pain during labor, medicine needed to perform amputations from violent and infected burns, sickness thats bound to show while under siege and cut off from the rest of the world, entire bloodlines ended, brains and blood and body parts covered in ash and littering the streets that he now walks as a fugitive.

its all his fault and yet hes still so angry at himself and the world and his god damned family, he wants his god damned son back. he tries to be a good example for his nephew who has so much to learn still, the world depends on his nephew learning the things this uncle is trying to teach him-but hidden poorly under the mask of a wise and worldly old man, he wants to have his cake and eat it too. he tries so hard to change and be humble and think beyond his own interests the way a grand lotus ought to, but when the gap in his chest left behind by his son that he murdered, that wouldn't be dead if it werent for his sorry excuse of a father, starts to ache so tangibly he almost wants to keel over and vomit.

SO . yeah i think that theres a way to balance irohs many lovely facets. his calm and collected mentor side that is observant and patient with the angriest teenage boy on earth, his ridiculous side that does stupid annoying shit to spite and tease his nephew, his protective and nuturing side that adores his nephew and wants him to be happy, his snobby pretentious ex crown prince side that thinks achieving peak open mindedness is joining a secret society with dudes like pakku, his angry and hateful side that did so many cruel things yet learned what fire can really mean from the masters but is still selfish and also wants seconds out of his self made grief despite taking the first plates from others and cant even bring himself to care, his manipulative side that earned him a reputation in the snake nest that is definitely the fire nation nobility and court, his hypocritical side that hates azula for the same reasons he hates his brother and hates himself but somehow cant fathom correlating himself with his niece.

Hes the worst hes the best hes my favorite hes my worst enemy. when do you ever get a character as ill as iroh at irohs age??? its always the mentally ill 20 something anime dude. never the shitty old man. im so insane

#what can i do to convince you guys that on my top 5 list sokka actually places before iroh #Nothing most likely. whatever #i hope this whole essay is entirely nonsensical to you all #asks

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postalollie · 1 year

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What are ur favorite things about pdude :) any of them and what do think dating one would be like 😳

OO HI!! SORRY FOR BEING SO LATE!!

In general I love the fact hes a morally grey character that in general doesnt seems to care for what other think of him! (except if hes wearing a gimp suit obviously lol) and his smugness as well, for postal 2 dude I love his colors! theyre more dull which for me fits his character really well and I try to do that in my art of him as well (though Ive been slacking more on that aspect lol) his design in general is just so nice to look and memorable too, its simple but effective, peak character design right there and I dont even mean it as a joke I genuinely think his design is super good, and most importantly THE GLASSES!! I like drawing him with his eyes showing but when he has the sunglasses is where the fun is at, because it kinda brings a surprise factor to him, his colors are more died down but then you see his eyes and BAM!! green! of course theyre not too bright as to match with his other colors but still bright enough for him to have some contrast and bring some surprise to the player!

Now for p1 dude, I once again love his color scheme, I love red so its fun to look at him, even with just his limited model on the original postal you can see a lot of stuff in his design which is very impressive! I love his fingerless gloves and his sweater vest as well/shirt he wears on the gone postal cover, also...long hair...pretty.. ALSO his design with the red coat and green vest! I dont usually see it being drawn (I personally do prefer to draw the red and black version because I prefer that color scheme but the other is still quite good and I wanna draw it someday!) idk his design is just once again very cool to me

NOW FOR THE DATING PART OwO (sorry if these are hard to understand im very bad with writing and most of my fantasies rarely follow a story or a very strict personality to them lol)

for p2 I imagine it would be more difficult for him to "open up" I guess, he would start pretty closed off like he is in the game, even when hes interested in you hes still kinda closed off, with stuff like flirty interactions the thing he can do best because hes more in control, show that man some genuine affection and he wouldnt know how to take it (show that man love no one in paradise apreciates him >:( ) he would probably blue screen a bit from affection, however slowly he would start getting used it and start showing a bit more as well, you would just need to be a bit patient with him, he would however still care for you and be a bit possesive, not in the unhealthy way I mean would get jealous about you and if anyone tried to do anything he would kick their ass, in general his love language is a mix of physical contact and acts of service, he also calls you darling and dearie :)

NOW FOR P1 oh p1

tbh I think he would a bit more possesive compared to p2 by a bit, finding a not sick person would be a miracle to him, he would be a bit more emotional as well, confiding in you and being the only one he would trust, to me he would profess his love to you in a way more I guess poetic way?? idk how to call it but yeah! man is down bad for you essentialy, dont get me wrong though hes still postal dude of course, just ya know with more problems

now for the massacre part.. I feel it COULD be possible to be able to stop him from doing everything like people generally write p1 x reader fics but honestly to me, idk I feel like no matter what something would make him snap, the thing is would you join him or not... my self insert does but really I think that changes from person from person, I imagine that during the very small breaks from the killing he would be all over you, you're the thing that calms him down, also if he went to the asylum he would be saved by you, together till the end no matter what

AGAIN I know the whole joining in with him might seem bad! its just that for me its not any postal dude, especially postal 1 dude wihout some violence ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

ALSO i headcanon all the dudes with the exception of corkscrew for obvious reason that theyre all part brazilian and portuguese is their first language! (self projection wee hoo) so they would call you pet names or say how much they love in the language! I feel they would say amor a lot and the variations of it (amorzinho, meu amor, mo, also that basically means my love in different ways in english) p3 would say xuxu or xuxuzin for sure though (idk how to translate this but like, imagine it as like saying doll or darling but in a more joking manner)

In any way, all of them would be protective of you, wouldnt want to hurt you no matter what and if anyone tried they're dead

(also bonus p3, he would be the most smug out of all of them, he KNOWS you love him and he loves you too and oh boy is he gonna have fun with it, also both him and p2 would probably fight for you a bit in paradise lost lol)

#OO THIS WAS LONG!!#thanks for the ask!!#sorry is there are missing words or mispellings!#no beta we die like p3 dude died in one of the endings #postal #postal dude #postal 1 #postal 2 #I hope the portuguese parts made sense lol #postal 3 #kinda??

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cafephan · 7 months

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i think its very interesting how many people are asking questions about their relationship again? maybe its just my dash but im seeing so many people wanting to theorize about what dnp off-camera dynamic is! maybe ive just been around for too long but i really thought we'd all come to the conclusion that they're just. them. soulmates in whatever definition of the word. what they are to each other is personally the least interesting about them?

idk whatever it is that they have, i want it

i completely agree with you!

i think a large part of it is due to the revival of the gaming channel, with that came a lot of returning phannies and casual viewers along with those who (and it pains me to say as a grown ass woman) may have been a bit too young at the gaming channel’s prime so are really getting into dnp for the first time. there is an obvious shift in the new gaming videos compared to the ones before - understandably as we all know due to dnp becoming more comfortable with themselves and being willing to show a bit more of the ‘real them’ to the internet and drop the facade they wore so strictly through the 2010s, so the returning or new viewers will understandably be intrigued as to why this may be - as they may not keep up with main channel uploads and tweets/insta stories like we, the in too deep phannies, do. whilst i definitely do NOT agree with the lengths some people are taking this recent speculation and it is toeing the line of too far, i’m hoping that as the uploads continue and dnp’s dynamic continues the way it is recently (comfortable and far more touchy feely) it will become the new normal and these people that are at the moment maybe taking it too far will calm down with the off-screen speculation and accept this as the new normal as we did a while ago.

tldr - this new dynamic (the post coming out universe) of the new era of the gaming channel is all shiny and new at the moment as people are rediscovering them, but things will calm in time as it becomes the new normal :)

(but it wouldn’t hurt for dnp to maybe re-establish boundaries as many ccs are doing these days as the last time we got a boundary update was in the 2010s and a lot has changed since then)

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pinkmoondoll9shihtzu · 16 days

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hi there, ive been following you for a little bit now and all of your thoughts and wisdoms mean a lot to me, as well as your art and creative things like your photography. ive been wanting to do little confessions about lots of different things over time but im very afraid that the people hurting me will see them and know its me and hurt me more. im very lost & scared & trapped rn and everyone closest to me punishes me for it. idk i just wanted to get it out somewhere.. but it really means a lot to me to see you happy and well. you inspire me and i want there to always be good waiting for you

hi ^^ im sorry u have those feelings i used to struggle immensely w this .. i always kinda posted /this way/ but for most my 20s i only used private accounts cus i was so afraid of ppl irl reading my posts, as well as stalkers, there were incidents of both these things that made me go into hiding for foreverrrr !!!

The only reason i post publicly now is cus when i first came back to tumblr in 2021, it was like a blank slate, all my old oomfies had moved to ig or twitter. So i cld relax more and eventualy over time new ppl came who made sense to be here. And i didnt feel like i had to hide anymore ! it was extremely slow process. like literally took all of my 20s to feel fine doing this

And Ofc im sure tons of ppl who want to harm me read my blog and make fun of me, i know i seem insane to many, but i just....Dont care like.....You need to realize....Anyone who does that to you is SO weak, you are not lost at all compared to them. They're upset because they want to express themselves earnestly too but they feel blocked. Many ppl lash out for this reason..

if ur really afraid u could start by maybe doing a private blog .. i would also recommend doing protection prayers for yourself, i like listening to psalm 91, i have my archangel michael candle lit rn actually, i take a lot of measures to keep my shield up, i really believe in these energies, i ask the angels to send any unwanted energy back to sender, simple as. it has helped me become much more comfortable showing myself, online and irl.

Just dont give up, even if it takes a long time to open up, practice each day to strengthen ur soul, work on the things yu want to work on with the intentions of love in your heart, when u Know ur doing it for the right reasons it becomes really hard to let anyone stop u. But take it slow. no matter how scared u feel rn, know it can be a total 180, even if u dont see the path clearly yet ^^ Thanks for your kind message..i'm here to help!! Stay protected & cherished Anon...PMD9 <3 <3 <3

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hiemaldesirae · 11 months

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please. I'm begging you for more crumbs about VADD!Shen Jiu and also that Roxana AU you have from that art post you did of the two.

As a VADD AND SVSSS fan, especially as a fan of the original villains— please. I AM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH FOR MORE. I'm actually in the process of outlining a crossover with the original goods of both.

God, the Roxana one as well— please, PLEASE TELL ME SJ IS ROXIE HE'S SO ROXANA-CODED SOMEHOW. GIVE HIM BUTTERFLIES AND POISON AND— *gets knocked out*

by the way, LOVE your artstyle. scratches an itch i did not know existed in my brain. your chibis as well. they're so cute!!

oh you have no idea how long ive waited to talk about them. this mayyy get a bit long so ill leave it under the readmore.

disclaimer: i intend on finishing these fics so what im going to be talking about is inspirations and unfinished / abandoned ideas and other ideas i have for the works instead of anything relating to the plots themselves

for svadd, sj is a lot more complicated than he appears to be on the surface. im not so sure if what i have written currently is what i /want/ exactly because i know i want his character to go a certain way. the relationships between him and his modern-day friends is one meant to parallel the in-game "shen qingqiu" sj compares himself to and in much the same way, mirror the way that sy contrasts himself with sqq in canon: but instead of being condescending and viewing sqq as a one dimensional character, sj is able to appreciate his nuance while still being rightfully angry over his actions

to me, sj is supposed to be an unreliable narrator who constantly enforces his own thoughts. he tells himself over and over that he misses his home and that he wants to go back, that he absolutely needs to- but then, he turns the other way and finds himself being sucked even deeper into this different one.

i also really wanted to explore how sjs dynamic with a lot of the characters would be affected knowing that they were "based off" his real friends, but again im not very confident with how it came off lol

there was a lot of points in the story where i attempted to add in foreshadowing for the ending i want the story to take... in any case, it definitely wont go the same way as vadd, though i did toy with the idea of a "version" of sy being the main villain haha

(it might still happen for shits and giggles)

as for the roxanna au there are a lot of things ive wanted to do with this au and its good that i havent posted because it means i can keep revising til i come up with something good lol

its a liujiu au with some bingyuan / cumplane thrown into the mix (the cumplane is overwhelmingly toxic btw bingyuan is the healthy one out of the two here 😭) where yes sj is xana !!! he really just makes such a good manhwa villainess haha

i had been puzzling over what i wanted his motif to be-- after all, sj is typically associated with the simplicity and calming bamboo so the glittering butterflies wouldnt work with him- but after some deliberation i decided with using moths for him :3c still subject to change ofc but i think im happy with this as is

the story is somewhat similar to how roxanna goes but surprise sj isnt the transmigrator here! (and honestly, roxanna wouldve been sm better if xana hadnt been a transmigrator... or maybe i just think that because it was only used as a convenient plot point for her to know crucial info. sigh.)

my outline of how the roxanna au goes is basically this:

lqg fucks around and finds out

sj who has been seeing dreams of the "book" sy read knows what will happen to his family if lqg dies

etc

at the same time: sy, transmigrator, attempts to make sure his only surviving older brother lives to a long happy life and the only way he can secure this is by fucking up that hack author

also i killed off qi-ge and idk if i want him to come back. he'll be like the stereotypical dead anime mother for this au lmao

hmm and i think thats all i have to say for these aus... thanks for giving me a chance to ramble on haha ~ much appreciated !! and thank you for the compliment, im flattered!! 🥹🥹💕

#ran rambles #quite literally #shen jiu #original shen qingqiu #svadd #sv x roxanna #svsss #svsss au

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elliekillsu · 1 month

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hi! so im 14, and so is my gf (im trans male, shes a trans girl). i have literally searched like a million things for trans girl experiences and ur blog came up so i was wondering how do i make her feel better abt herself? because recently she posted about not feeling femme enough and stuff and she keepssending rlly sad messages then being like "oh i was js dysphoric ignore me" or wtv.

i want to make her happy but idk how bc ive never liked being a girl (obv) so idk what to say to make her feel more like the girl she is. she is post social transition, only my parents, her parents, and our best friend know, so she isnt able to go oout in things w/o feeling insecure and stuff

i let her wear some of my old clothes (dresses and skirts and crop tops and stuff) but idk how much its rlly doing for her

sry if this was long u dont have to answer lol

have a good day/night! <33

Hii! I'm always happy to help someone out, I wanna start with like the 'bad news' just to get it out of the way, you've both found out you're trans around the same time I did which is great I'm proud of you both, but that being said you're both young, I know it's said a lot and it sucks to hear but you have so much time left, I found out about my own identity pre covid and didn't start presenting until end of 2022, and didn't fully socially transition with my family until last year, my point being it is a long stressful journey and it may take time and it will be hard but it's absolutely nothing compared to how long you'll live as yourself. Now I don't know any way to make her feel less dysphoric overall, its something we're stuck with but the obvious can help, routine shaving even just facially really works well, but I would definitely say maybe try do her makeup for her, teach her how or even just buy/give her some stuff to use if she hasn't been trying that already, even a few moments for the first time can help so much. If you can afford it trying out thrift stores or charity shops to find a low cost variety of clothing for her to keep away for herself.

There's no necessarily perfect way to fix dysphoria forever, god knows I still suffer but here i sit titless, unshaven and built and I'm still the happiest I've been in years, it does get better, you hear it over and over it loses its meaning but it will get better I can promise you both that, if I could see myself now when I was your age I would be so fucking happy and I still cant believe any of this is happening, I can promise she'll have the best days of her life but also the worst, its a long journey she's just begun, she isn't alone as long as you're there, along with me and every other one of our siblings. We are all one and we love you <3

I hope this has helped even a little

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unwelcome-ozian · 1 year

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hey so i have a question and idk if this is an ask youre ok with answering, if not its fine- but so a week or so ago my mom offhandedly made a really weird really specific joke about me being fed balloons to traffic drugs as a child, and then immediately before i even said anything, started really aggressively saying she was joking and when i joked that it was a little suspicious that she was so aggressive about clarifying it was a joke, she said (slight paraphrasing) “well i thought i should say it because otherwise you’d be like ‘oh i don’t remember my childhood, did that actually happen?,,’” and then basically called me crazy by comparing me to a really notoriously eccentric friend i have, and when i called her out on it she accused me of being the one who was calling him (and myself) crazy, then when i said she was acting weird she started getting really flustered and it was super awkward and she was over explaining in a way she only does when she’s lying or trying to cover her ass, she kept giving me reasons that i wasn’t a drug mule as a child, and then she left extremely quickly and unnaturally after the whole interaction. I don’t have any memories of this, but the whole thing left me feeling extremely uneasy in a way i usually am not. I felt like I was in danger the rest of the night and even ended up sleeping with a weapon, which to be fair is a feeling i’ve had before but it’s never been exactly like this. I really felt like i found something out that i wasn’t supposed to, and that they would kill me for it. i do have ocd and this could’ve just been that, but it was weird. it felt more real and ive been very off balance since this, feeling very unsafe everywhere i go. i have a weapon by my bed at all times now just in case, but i have no idea why i am doing this because i have no memory of having any reason to.

im very polyfragmented (dont know why or what caused it, know i experienced some kind of severe childhood abuse but generally don’t remember anything from childhood before age 10) and i’ve been splitting much more than usual since this, idk why.

I have been badly triggered by mention of organized crime and drug rings in the past but i assumed it was just because it was a heavy topic. I also have symptoms and vague memories of csa, as well as csem/csam. some of my alters are intensely triggered by the word magazine, i dont know why.

i am having trouble getting this out, i feel like my mind is trying to stop me if that makes any sense, i feel like im sealing. my fate by typing this. i dont think i am but its a very heavy feeling. i just want to know if this is something i should actually be concerned about, or if i am just crazy and an attention seeking liar making up false stories for pity. my parents dont seem capable of anything like this at all, and i know i at least had a regular side of my life as a child with friends and school and stuff, but for some reason I’m scared and have been scared since my mom mentioned it, and i just need to know if this anything i should be worried about, or look into, or anything. if theres a possibility i experienced something awful and don’t remember it at all. its been really bugging me and scaring me for a bit,

im sorry this is a really long confusing ask, youre free to delete it. my mind is quite jumbled. sorry

No worries about the length of the ask. I want to assure you that you can write as much as you feel comfortable with.

I agree with you, it is an odd joke that your mother made. There is a saying that behind a joke there is some truth in it.

Ultimately you know your mother. Does she often turn things around on you when you have disagreements? From what you described it sounds like gas-lighting.

Feeling safe is so important. I understand the need/feeling/desire to sleep with a knife. Feels safe, I get it. My question is, who are “ they”? Who would try to kill you?

Which leads me back to safety. If you are physically safe, which only you can answer, and have been then you are likely safe. If not, what things do you feel you are able to do to work towards safety?

There are parts in your system who do remember the abuse and what occurred. With time perhaps they will share those things.

Take your time in deciding what you want to do. The choice is yours to make. There is something awful that occurred that led to you living with DID.

Take care,

#answers to questions #DID #organised crime

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