#SO I LIKE TO INFLICT DAMAGE ON PPL BY SUGGESTING IT

[aptericia]

I want to be clear that demisexual/demiromantic and alloace ppl are literally awesome; those are in no way “lesser” aspec identities, and I love all my demi and alloace friends very much.

THAT SAID, I kinda wish that other aspec identities were talked about just as much? When I hear the a-spectrum discussed, people will almost always mention “btw you can be asexual and still fall in love” or “a lot of people won’t get sexual/romantic feelings until they form a strong emotional connection”, but rarely mention being, say, fray or alloaro (and ofc those are not the only other ways to fall on the a-spectrum)

Another complication is that “sexuality” is the default way of talking about orientations overall. If someone says “I’m pansexual”, people rarely ask “are you also romantically attracted to all genders?” So people will talk about homosexuality, heterosexuality, bisexuality, pansexuality, all assuming that romantic orientation lines up as well. Add that to the fact that there’s no generic term for aros and aces together (like, for example, “pan”), and it becomes awkward to talk about allosexual aromanticism. Alloaros are forced to jump through the extra hoop of separating sexual and romantic orientation, something that goes against the social norm.

Anyway, I’m very aroace and do not experience romantic/sexual attraction at any time, so I might not be the best one to speak on this topic. However, because alloace and demi orientations are mentioned more than their “opposites”, especially among girls, I’ve definitely felt pushed towards those identities. Also, this is probably a hot take, but I’d argue they are also viewed in a more positive light:

If we look at some incorrect negative stereotypes associated with various aspec identities (again, I’m using romantic/sexual and demi/fray as examples, but there are other ways to be aspec), alloaces might be called “prudes” and demis might be called “distrustful”, both possible takes on “too conservative”. On the other hand, alloaros and frays are thought of as “manipulative”, “users”, or simply uncaring of others’ feelings. Although all those terms are negative and very damaging, there is a noticable difference between “conservative” and “manipulative”—the former is viewed as a personal weakness, and the latter as a moral failing that inflicts damage on others. That’s why I feel like alloace and demi identities are more readily accepted by society.

(Aroaces and those who are neither demi nor fray sometimes get the worst of both worlds and are described with all those adjectives, but sometimes we’re just called “heartless” and left at that. We also have the added privilege of being the “““norm””” when talking about the a-spectrum)

idk anyway this rant got way longer than I’d intended and I didn’t spend as much time thinking about it as I should have, so feel free to ignore it. I’m not really suggesting anything tbh, I just wanted to get this out.

#I’ve been thinking about this for a long time but i was always too cowardly to talk about it #I fully admit that I am not an expert on aspec identities by any means #and I’m aware that it’s likely someone will find these comments offensive or poorly-worded #I apologize in advance for that #but I also think it’s worth getting these thoughts out even if they’re half-baked #ramblings #aromantic #asexual #lgbtq+ #aro tag

[thevalleyoftriumph]

every time someone asks for media recs i resist the urge to jokingly suggest nexo knights just for the 2d4 psychic damage it would cause the person

#ITS SUCH A BAD AND BORING SHOW BUT MY DUMB IDIOT BRAIN SAID ''YEAH LETS HYPERFIXATE ON IT FOR A MONTH #AND THEN NEVER EVER FORGET ABT IT ITS ALWAYS GONNA B AT THE BACK OF UR MIND'' #AND I SAID OKAYYYY #SO I LIKE TO INFLICT DAMAGE ON PPL BY SUGGESTING IT #no im not kidding its soooo bad #not bad as in it does bad stuff but bad as in jesus this is such low quality garbage #not even so bad its good just bad LMAO #the animation.... is so early 2000s/2010s it hurts #so ofc im gonna force ppl to look at it [lovingly] and see them go thru the 5 stages of grief in real time #always ends with them wanting to drop kick me <3 #kitkat chat

[doomstypewriter]

(does that make space a soup by association?)

oh yea signor morandi can suck it

if youre unable to nudge him down a flight of stairs defamation of only signor morandi probably isnt an option either is it? what with the whole family reputation thing (old timey ppl be like: your reputation? i think you mean Our reputation) so should you still not know how youre gonna inflict violence upon him consider if you will and if its even at all applicable to the plot: what if signor morandi was somewhere or was doing something thats inconvenient for the gang so janus just hits him over the head from behind, knocking him out (or something similar). no permanent damage and a good excuse for why he gave his boyfriends dad a concussion sksksk

and this is a question not necessarily a suggestion but has patton ever been in janus' home? probably not right? will he ever see his home? does he have a vague idea of what it looks like? where it is?

-🏳️‍🌈🕰️

Hi RC!!! 

I’m trying to space out the responses so I have time to make progress with the writing, aaaand, half of the thing is already outlined! (My outlines are very detailed so I have an easier time writing, but that also means it takes longer)

Accept my offering of a sneak peek: 

(Transcription at the end below the cut) 

Now, back to replying. 

(I’d think of it more as the bag of a vacuum cleaner, lot’s of stuff in there, vast, inhospitable but it may hold life)

In this house, we despise Signor Morandi like self-respecting individuals. 

I’ll consider the idea of the “Polonius incident” but with less dead father in it, and see what I can do, this will come up on the last part so I will be able to fit it in as I make progress with the outline. BUT, I already have a perfect target for the shove. This guy is going to fly BEAUTIFULLY downstairs. It will be even more satisfying than when Romina first completely humiliates him in front of everybody. 

Oh! This is so cute! I love it! No specific idea of how I’ll make it happen but it can. It will be so cute to have him there!!! But I may have to also introduce Romina and Virginia to Janus’ house because I think it will make the most sense if it happens the way I’m thinking it can.  

By the way! Logan and Remus’ backstory is now mostly outlined and I’ve been told by the friend who’s sort of been my test-reader for this, that it’s super cute, so I believe you are going to love it. I am making it so it’s a mix of letters and small scenes that shows in a very full picture kind of way how it came to be and develop, and I believe the letters are going to give it a really cool vibe without making it boring. 

AAA I’m so excited to write all of it and for you to see it!! 

Anyhow, hope you have an awesome day!

Previous ask

Fic that’s a prequel to this

(Transcription: 

Suddenly, the place where they’re celebrating is being attacked by pirates. Chaos ensues. Everybody is running, Romina is like VIRGINIA I NEED TO FIND HER. Patton goes with her. They run to the kitchens. 

Meanwhile, Janus runs to the gardens where he agreed to meet with Virginia. Virginia gets surrounded by a bunch of Remus’ goons and is gagged. Janus runs, sword in hand, to try to save her, suddenly, he crosses blades with a man in a while bauta (bc anonymous, only worn by men, forbidden to carry weapons while wearing it) mask, wearing a wide-brimmed flat hat. This guy fights viciously. R- (to his goons) Take her sword, it must be hidden in her underskirts. G1- (Woman’s voice) Right away Captain. Janus manages to stand his ground but the guy gashes the left side of his face. (Janus be like, Fuck, the only person who’s managed to beat me up this bad is Romina. Who the hell is this guy? He fights like a fucking demon) R- Leave with her (to three guys), you (woman and two guys), find the servant, she must be hiding nearby. The goons take Virginia and leave.) 

#moceit #intrulogical #prinxiety #renaissance AU #patton #janus sanders #ask #doomstypewriter #doom writes #fem!virgil #fem!roman #cw swearing

[splintcrs]

tom holland + cismale + he/him + sound manipulation.┊ ❛ ━ hey, is it just me or do you hear bambi by hippo campus playing in the distance ? oh, that’s just noah gray, a twenty year old part time student/unemployed. according to my sources, i heard he can be neutral good and is compassionate, but also unforthcoming. that’s probably why they remind everyone of scraped knees, broken eye contact & sterile rooms so much ! anyway, whether or not they’re in favor of the supers, crystalline city is keeping a close eye on them !

HELLO! my name is ash (she/her, 20, est) and i can’t even begin to express how hyped i’ve been for this !!! i’d like to introduce you all to my child noah who really needs a hug and maybe some hot chocolate. if you’d like to plot feel free to hit me up over ims or @ my discord ( coat pocket#7381 ). i gotta go to a play rehearsal (stage crew!) soon sadly but feel free to give me all the plots and i’ll be on later !! ( and i may sneak on mobile a bit don’t tell anyone )

// tw kidnapping and captivity 

background:

noah was a bubbly kid, the kind who seemed to always have a smile on his face. the kind who would always befriend the new student on the playground. that kid.

he and his older brother grew up with a single mother struggling to make ends meet after their father bounced mere weeks after his birth. yet, despite their tight financial situation, they had a p good childhood. never went to bed hungry, never felt unloved.

not the most athletic and always a bit too clever for his own good, he was the perfect target for bullies. but he could TAKE it, really.

one day a particularly annoying kid was trying to get a rise out of noah on the bus. nothing out the ordinary. except, after he opened his mouth to voice a comeback, the bus swerved. suddenly everyone’s hands were on their ears. well, everyone except noah.

A SONIC ATTACK, they said. but noah knew the truth. he had done it. for the next several days, he kept his mouth shut in fear that it could happen again. although the chance to tell anyone, including his family, would never come.

several days later, he awoke in a van, a gag in mouth. a facility looking to weaponize people with abilities had kidnapped him as he slept, gaining word of him after the event on the bus.

the next few years of his life were hell. days spent in cells, nights spent being poked and prodded. they were trying to make the world better, the scientists said. bullshit. suddenly his voice was no longer his own, used as a weapon for the highest bidder.

apparently it wasn’t just his voice he could manipulate. a simple snap of the finger done right could cause a target ( or targets ) to pass out in pain instantly. but nothing was quite as effective as his voice. the right pitch could burst organs, inflicting permanent (and if requested, lethal) damage. after threatening the lives of his family, he was willing to do anything for his captors.

three years after being captured, the facility that held him was raided by the league. he was free. while the majority of his fellow captives immediately returned to their families, noah couldn’t…wouldn’t go back. the mere idea of his mom and brother seeing him, the shell of the noah they knew, made him sick.

the league offered to let him stay at their hq after realizing that the young super had nowhere to go. he couldn’t say yes fast enough.

a couple weeks have passed, and noah remains in the league’s headquarters. at the suggestion of his therapist, he has enrolled in a few classes at the local college. they give his life a sense of normalcy that wasn’t there before. when not in class, he spends time watching a lot of tv and occasionally exploring the city with his newfound freedom.

some plots that would be fun include (but not limited to):

heroes that were involved in saving him from the facility that held him captive. somebody who continues to check in on him sometimes? a hero that helped with the rescue but really hasn’t interacted with him since? possibilities! 

ppl he knows around the league hq! while he may spend a lot of time in his room, he still ventures out...occasionally 

so he was forced to do a lot of not so good things when in the facility’s grasps. it is very likely he interacted with a multitude of villains? whether or not the villains actually knew noah didn’t have a choice in what he was doing probably could vary. it would be really interesting to play out him running into one of them,

ppl noah knew from before he went missing. childhood friends, classmates, etc. really anyone he knew from age 17 and before !!

other college students? he’s been attending some classes at the local college,, maybe they have classes together? met on campus randomly?? group project? 

really i’m down for all the plots ! i’d love to hear any ideas you all have :D

personality:

noah is fairly quiet and reserved nowadays.for obvious reasons.

he is soooo kind tho!! like actually if you asked him for the sandwich he was in the middle of eating he’d probably apologize for it not being good enough before handing it over :(

low self esteem,, lots of guilt over the things he did while under the control of the facility and him not contacting his family upon gaining freedom

high key scared of hurting others and even more terrified of forming connections. buuut also really wants to form connections ??

A Good 

sooo if you’d like to plot hmu or like this message and i can msg you ! i can’t wait to write with you all aaaah

#gloryhqs.intro #tw kidnapping #tw experimentation #tw captivity #tw violence #i dont know what this is but lets plot :D

[fittytittycity]

Second Time (but not the last)

Hey all! Im on mobile so I can't attach the first one but I've only ever posted like five things on this account so just look back on my posts

I'm so glad ppl liked my last one! Message me if you like this and want more or if you have any suggestions (or if there are any grammatical errors)

Warnings: mild swearing, crying, panic attack sort of

Edward Nygma had never considered himself especially nosey.

Sure, he more often than not found himself on the outside of a conversation than in one, but he didn't consider himself nosey. Antisocially perceptive, an incredibly apt listener, but never nosey. He didn't mind though, sticking his nose into your business.

"So....you and Ed."

She proposed, leaning coyly on the side of your desk- carefully encroaching onto your workload.

"Hm. Wai- what?"

You asked, torn from your diligent trance, your pen still hovering above the paper. Ms.Ham peered at you knowingly, her bright lipstick folding into a perfectly symmetrical smile. Your expression didn't change, and she sighed in impatience.

"Cmon! Arnt you two like....screwing?" She quizzed, lowering her voice in invasive delight as she wiggled her sharp eyebrows. You resisted the urge to laugh, humor overcome with the bizarre nature of that question. Why on earth would she think that? Sure you lingered anxiously behind him, trailed his movements with doe eyes and subdued admiration- but there was nothing beyond your quiet attention that would elude to anything more than that.

"No- we're not screwing. Why would you think that?" You answered, chuckling dismissively as you turned back to your paper, thoughtlessly checking boxes.

"Oh come on! I see you in the restroom after your 'meetings'- fixing your makeup

/catching your breath/ ." She countered, squeezing out her allegations quietly, giddy with the raunchiness of her accusation. You paused, pen halted above the paper. The familiar prick of humiliation kneaded your stomach, a wave of discomfort overcoming you. You usually were able to make certain no one was in the restroom, but when much of the bureaucratic staff had left the precinct you assumed the back restrooms were clear. Collectively you must have spent hours bent over those sinks, sobbing into your elbow, rubbing snot and tears from your face, pressing cold pieces of wet paper towel under your eyes to stop the swelling. How lucky you were that she had only seen the aftermath of a cry in your office, wiping your wet red face, mascara smeared above and below your foggy eyes, shaking with labored breath. You felt your knee jerk beneath your desk, begging to bounce anxiously on the floor. You felt your face become very hot, you didn't want to think about it.

"Ha! No, I uh, I just have terrible allergies in winter. Chills, tears, the whole nine yards!" You answered, crossing your legs hoping to quell your shaking limbs. You looked up from your paper, dropping the pen carefully- feeling your palms sweat with embarrassment. You smiled gingery, searching her face for any sign your facade was working.

"Oh- huh. Yeah Eds kind of a weirdo, I was just gonna say if the two of you were messing around that you should be careful." She cautioned, chuckling dryly to herself. "Odd one like that- there's no telling what he's in to. I bet he likes kicking around his girlfriend befo-"

"Trish- I really have to finish up this work." You interrupted, the need to escape this conversation becoming radically urgent. She smiled, rolling her eyes and nudging your shoulder lovingly. She mumbled something patronizing about work ethic and waltzed out of the room.

Shame coiled in your gut, drowned in the unshakable embarrassment of nearly being caught. For having to almost explain that you were such an incompetent worker that you needed constant reprimand, reprimand that left you in hot ugly fits of sobbing humiliation in the staff bathroom.

For how confusing it was, how tender and persuasive his fingers felt on the small of your back as he passed you in a narrow hall. For his hungry lingering, the predatory silence of his presence behind you when you worked- the fear only a hunter could inflict upon its prey.

You inhaled deeply, aware now that you had been holding your breath. You blinked, a hot tear landing on the back of your hand. You wiped your face quickly, god what a fucking idiot. You really deserved everything he said, you weren't fit to work here. You rolled your eyes, feeling the familiar sting of oncoming tears tickle your eyes. Damn.

Edward was on a deadly power trip. An ego wave he would inevitably crumble beneath, soon to drown in his own festering God complex. James Gordon was in jail, and the heavy paranoia that strained his anxious mind had blossomed into manic euphoria. He could do anything, he could get away with anything. He wasn't worried about Ms.Hams speculation, if anything it exacerbated his obsession.

She must be so embarrassed, and knowing Ham the whole precinct must think she's sleeping around. Can you imagine the rancid things those policemen will say about her?

Goosebumps rose on his scalp, mouth curving into a perfect grin. He could definitely imagine. He nudged his glasses up the bridge of his narrow nose, pushing the handle down to enter your office.

Your knees buckled, sending you upright in a matter of seconds, the familiar sound of the brass handle slamming against a cabinet ripping you from your pitiful slouch.

"Mr.Nygma! Hello- can I help you with something?" You blinked quickly, taking a deep breath through your nose before turning around, smile docile and calm. Your lip twitched, teeth aching to chatter against your clenched jaw- you smiled tighter. He grinned back, taking three careful strides towards you- your legs tensing in the desire to flee.

"Yes actually, two things." He mused, pulling from behind his back a stack of papers, littered with red ink and flagged bits of paper. He looked down at it, shaking his head slowly.

"I can't understand how you thought this was an appropriate final draft for Commissioner Barnes to send out for the Christmas letter, it's littered with grammatical errors and poor phrasing." He scolded, disbelieving amusement soaking his flat tone. His flicked the paper, not seeing you flinch behind the white pages. You held your breath, pleading with your body not to give way to your embarrassment- blinking only when you were absolutely sure you wouldn't cry.

"Thank god I picked it up out of his inbox before he got his hands on it. Barnes may posses even less of a linguistic gene than you...I can imagine without my intervention the entire staff would share my misfortune of reading such a massacre of a Christmas letter." He scoffed, stifling the urge to smile, the hot feeling of sadistic delight boiling in his stomach.

"Secondly-" He began, flipping the papers down to deliver the most anticipated part of his ridicule. He looked over your face, anticipating the coming expressions. Your eyelashes clung together with moisture, exaggerating their dark sheen- pushing forward the vibrant colors of your reddening eyes. He was without speech for a moment- confused as to how he had already elicited such a response. Unless-

"Ms.L/N have you been crying?" He quizzed, the careless monotone he had struggled to sustain lost in his confusion. You felt the hot tentacles of shame wrap around your stomach, pushing out the anxious breath you had held so tightly. You shook your head quickly, hands loosening from fists into frantic shapes in front of your chest- pulling on your fingers in a nervous panic.

"No- No I just-"

"Who made you cry?" He barked, discarding the papers onto the desk behind you, the adrenaline of his expecting pleasure twisting into rage. Who on earth had made you cry? It couldn't have been Ms.Ham..or perhaps what she had said to you about how you worked too much? Maybe one of the policemen? He was infuriated, some strange deformation of jealousy straining his mind to decipher who had stolen from him the joy of being the only person to cause you such damage. You struggled to breathe, afraid any allowance of air would turn into a sob the moment it left your lips.

"No one, no one made me cry. I just-" you began, fingers twisting and grabbing at the front of your shirt thoughtlessly. You felt your stomach heave in protest, body aching to curl up and die. You wanted more than anything to run out of the room and under your covers to never return to the outside world.

"I'm just concerned that I'm not- not doing a very good job. I like this job v-very- I like this job very much and I would really like to get a good reference. And I feel like you're very dis-dissatisfied with my work. I want to be a good employee and I feel I'm not living up to your standards." You spat, vision twisting and blurring in wet heavy embarrassment. This was a nightmare. You couldn't keep yourself together, words tripping over the next, chest rising and falling so rapidly you thought for sure your heart was stopping and restarting. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him, your teeth began to chatter and your palms began to sweat.

"I'm sorry it just all got the best of me- I promise not to let it-" But Edward was no longer listening. It would be a disservice to himself to distract from the display- eyes darting anxiously away from him, the muscles in your arms and legs tensing and releasing in tantalizing tremors. He was engulfed in the sight- how had he survived so long without witnessing it? Your hand shot up, shaking terribly as it wiped a tear from your red cheek- bringing his gaze back to your face. Instinctually, like a lunging animal, his hand was around your wrist. He reached out, desperate to feel the sticky heat of your tear laden cheek as he leaned in further. The narrow end of his nose brushed yours, your lamenting words seeming immediately less important than the feeling of his slow breath on your Cupid's bow. It was silent as your lips met, your weeping hiccups quelling into a blissful lack of. Your stammering heart stopped, and the desire to curl up and fall away turned to the irresistible urge to curl up into the shallows of his welcoming chest and fall away there. Your reciprocation was timid, lips trembling against his strong guiding mouth as you placed a fearful hand on his chest. His thumb lay gently on your jaw, the tips of his fingers lost in the fine hairs of your neck, the pressure just strong enough to communicate a strange urgency. He parted slowly, leaving room for you to realize you had not yet caught your breath.

"Edward-" you began, voice hoarse and ginger as his hand loosened from your wrist and returned to his side. He could feel your pulse in his fingertips against your neck, feeling his own slow rhythm in contrast to your erratic pulsation.

"Mr. Nygma." He corrected. "Ms.L/N-" He began, his voice rolling up from his chest in a low growl.

"Who made you cry?" He repeated, eyes dark and empty, fingers pressing tighter into the side of your face.

"You did, Mr. Nygma." You whispered, eyes drawn down towards his chest in returning embarrassment.

"Good answer."

#edward nygma imagines #edward nygma #ed nygma #edward nygma x reader #riddler x reader #gotham #cory micheal smith #idk #gotham imagines