Gen - Tumblr Posts
i’m sure i’ve said this before but punk clothes *should not* be expensive. if you are buying expensive “punk” clothes for the aesthetic, you aren’t punk. the point of punk was and is to reject commercialism and the exploitation of youth by corporations and governments. you know why leather jackets are a staple of punk fashion? bc leather jackets were abundant in thrift stores after greaser culture ended in the late 60s or so. black hair dye was cheapest at the time, so a lot of punks had black hair. the patches? meant to be diy. expensive “punk” style clothes go against punk culture on a fundamental level.
my current battle jacket is from a plus size consignment store, and i *only* bought it from there because it was the first jacket across multiple stores that was in my size. when my favourite the clash t-shirt didn’t fit me anymore, i cut out the logo and made it a patch to put on a shirt that did fit me. most of the patches on my jacket and backpack are handpainted or embroidered by me.
the only reason punk clothes should be at all mildly expensive is if you’re buying from a small business. the patches and pins i dont make myself i buy from small businesses off etsy. even then there are shops like retirementfund that do $1 screenprinted patches. VoodooLuxe and LovelyAlternative both have handmade riot grrrl pins for $1.50 each. this isn’t sponsored or whatever, i’m just saying that there are so many better places to find punk clothes and accessories.
punk isn’t just an aesthetic. punk culture is diy for a reason.
"He did it in broad daylight" as opposed to male daylight?
Can people tell me the deal with Danny Phantom and Dc crossovers being so popular? I dont get it
“Hey. Uh, Johnny?” Danny said awkwardly, “What does it mean when one of the older ghosts calls you their favored and why does it freak people out?”
Johnny 13 gave the halfa a bewildered look, “Dude. Didn’t you listen to Death? At all?”
“Death?” Danny scrunched his face, “What do you mean? I don’t…”
“Wait.” Johnny straightened, “You’ve talked with Death, right? She explained-?”
Danny shook his head, confused, “Was I supposed to?”
“When you first died, she’s supposed to appear. She gives a whole spiel and then transfers a bunch of information.” Johnny frowned, “She did it for Plasmius, so it’s not a halfa thing.”
“Oh.” Danny looked down, “What if… What if someone died and came back a few times very quickly? Would that… Would that cause any problems?”
Johnny stilled, horrified, “Ok. Look, do you want to talk about your death? Because I’m not asking if you don’t, but...”
“I guess…” Danny said, “So you know that my parents made the portal, right?”
“Yeah.” Johnny said.
“They’d been trying to do it for a long time. Plasmius actually worked with them for a while back when they were in college. It’s why all of their tech is similar in design.” Danny explained, “They built the thing, plugged it in, turned it on… and nothing.”
“But it works now.” Johnny frowned.
“Yeah. It does.” Danny nodded, “But remember my friends? Sam and Tucker?”
“The edgy emo and the computer geek?”
“As Sam’s friend, I am obligated to inform you that she is goth not emo… but yes, those two.” Danny smiled sadly, “My mom and dad were upset. They left the house and Jazz was working her shift at a library. The whole house was empty and I was… you know. A normal teenager home alone.”
Johnny snorted at that, “Ah yes. A completely normal teenager
“Yeah, yeah. The point is, the first thing I did after being left home alone was call my friends over.” Danny rolled his eyes, “Told them what happened and… It was Sam who suggested we go down there first — she’s always been into ghost and occult stuff — and look around. Tucker was down, because it was tech even if we didn’t think most of the tech would work. He wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to mess around with it. Jazz had given me some lectures on lab safety — my parents don’t usually follow it themselves — and I had a bad feeling so I put on the Hazmat suit.”
“That’s not a superhero costume you came up with?” Johnny asked, eyes widening.
“No, um. It’s a hazmat suit. The only way I changed my form was the insignia and even then that was Sam’s idea.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, but um….” Danny paused, “We wound up standing outside the portal. It wasn’t working or anything, but there was a big spooky metal hole in the wall. You know, the kind of thing you’d expect in sci-fi movies. Sam dared me to go in and I was nervous. That bad feeling just intensified, but again — fourteen. I wasn’t being smart about it. So… I went into it. I kept going and it was dark. I was turning back when I tripped and I flailed. Accidentally hit some button that was on the side and it turned on.”
Johnny took a sharp breath.
“And um. Did you know that the portal takes a lot of electricity to start up?” Danny joked weakly, “Took three blocks worth. Um, lots of ectoplasm, too — from both the zone and the artificial stuff my parents use.” He shuffled, “So um, turns out both those things can revive and kill people. So I just kind of — died and revived a lot until it turned on and basically spat me out into the lab.
“That’s - Kid…”
“So um, maybe since I was dying and reviving so much death didn’t have a chance to fill me in? Honestly, would have like the heads up.” Danny said sheepishly, “I didn’t even understand what had happened until ghosts started coming through the portal.”
“Seriously?”
Danny shrugged, “I mean, I kind of suspected. I was falling through floors. It was hard to ignore, but I didn’t know - My parents are good inventors, but not the best scientists and it made things hard to figure out.”
“What? You bought that whole non-sentient BS?”
“No.” Danny shook his head, “I just didn’t buy any of it — and I mean none of it. I wanted nothing to do with the whole thing. The whole town thought my parents were crazy, they were always in the lab working, and I only ever saw them briefly once or twice a day. Don’t get me wrong. They’re still my parents and I love them, but… they have two big priorities. Their work and their kids. Their work is just… a higher priority to them.”
“Oh.” Johnny cringed, “Oh. Kid…”
“So yeah. Life sucks. Death sucks… but I really need to know what to do and why Ember is freaking out over me being called ‘favored one’.”
“Uh, right.” Johnny paused, “Well, it’s like old ghost language. Um. Basically, it’s like being called a really, really close friend or adopted family. Kind of like… ‘hey, this is my person that I love and protect’. It’s platonic unless they specify otherwise.”
“Huh, okay.” Danny blinked, “That makes sense, but why would Ember freak out?”
“Well… who called you that?”
“Oh! Clockwork and Pandora call me that when I visit.”
Johnny blanched, “What?”
“And now you’re freaking out, too.”
“You’ve been just- Kid! Are you just casually talking to them?”
“Um, yeah? They said it was okay?”
“Do you know nothing about the hierarchy of the- Wait. No. You didn’t get to talk to Death. Of course you don’t-“ Johnny sighed — covering his eyes, “Okay, so do you know what the ancients are?”
“I thought that was just a saying.”
“No, it’s not-” Johnny pinched the bridge of his nose, “The Ancients are the most powerful spirits in the Zone. They’re ghosts, but they resemble ideals more than they do a person most of the time. Practically gods. The ancients are Undergrowth, Frostbite, Nocturne, Pandora, Clockwork, Vortex, and Pariah Dark. Thing is… where most ghosts plateau at a certain power level the ancients can just keep growing in power. Clockwork is one of the strongest — so strong, the Observants bound him to their will.”
“Yeah, I heard about that, but he’s really nice, you know.” Danny smiled, “And he makes really good cookies really fast.”
Johnny stared at Danny for a long moment, “Danny. Do you not hear yourself right now? He’s basically the god of time.”
“Yeah, but if he didn’t want me to visit, I wouldn’t be able to find him.” Danny shrugged, “So he told me if I can see the clocktower, I’m welcome to come in.”
“Kid…”
“Besides. I’m friends with half of those guys and they’re cool.”
“Wha- How many ancients do you know?”
“Um… All the ones you just listed? I’m friends with Frostbite, Pandora, and Clockwork. I fought Undergrowth, Vortex and Nocturne before, but Nocturne likes me now. Um, Undergrowth doesn’t like me, though. Loves Sam, though… Um, obviously I know who Pariah Dark is after the whole thing in Amity-“
Johnny stilled, “Wait a minute… Kid. I need you to answer me honestly here… Did Pariah ever mention a challenge when you fought him?”
“Well, um. I guess? He was all formal speak, though, so…”
“Kid.” Johnny said very slowly, “Did he ever issue a challenge or accept a challenge from you?”
“… Um. He did say that he accepted my challenge or something, but wasn’t that just fight-talk or…”
“I think I get it now.” Johnny sighed, facepalming, “Just… maybe don’t tell people about this and consider asking one of the ancients allies you have about what Pariah accepting your challenge means for you.”
“For me? What-“
“Just… give it some thought.” Johnny paused, “And- Well, I can talk to Ember for you, yeah?”
“Thanks.”
—
Danny curled up on a sofa as Pandora embraced him with three arms and ran her fourth hand through his hair.
“Pandora.” Danny said softly, “Some of my friends say you, Frostbite, and Clockwork are ancients.”
“They are correct.”
“I didn’t know what ancients were.”
“I noticed.” Pandora laughed a bit, “But you’re a sweet child. You helped me get my box back and did not demand my favor. Perhaps it was selfish not to tell you, but I didn’t want to distress you. You are a kind and humble soul. Is it such a surprise I wish to continue seeing you?”
“You thought I would stop if I did?” Danny asked, confused, “I mean, sure my other friends were shaken up by it, but they don’t know you. Why would I be afraid when you’re so nice?”
Pandora blinked and then smiled warmly — a little laugh pulling from her throat. Oh, the innocence of such a young spirit, “Why, indeed? I suppose I didn’t give you or myself enough credit, did I?”
Danny shrugged, “I don’t have room to judge people for being different anyway. I’m a halfa. Pretty sure that’s even rarer than being an Ancient, right?”
“I suppose that is true.” Pandora smiled, “There are only a few halfas and none are quite like you. There will only ever be one of you.”
“Does this have something to do with why I never got to meet death?” Danny asked, confused, “That’s the only thing I can find that seems all that different-“
“In a way… Yes, but there are many more differences. The main one is that you powers have grown beyond Vlad Masters and they continue to do so.” Pandora said, “You are what we call a ‘Juna Potenco’. Most realms will never have heard of such things, but us ancients do not forget and when faced with a gift like yourself… well, you’ll only see more of us with time.”
“What does that mean? Is it bad?”
“No, no. It is a gift, not a punishment.” Pandora promised, “You are an inspiring soul, favored one, and it seems the realms themselves have seen that.”
“That doesn’t sound right.” Danny pulled away and sat up as he shook his head, “I’m a halfa, but that’s what I am. It doesn’t say anything about who I am. There isn’t anything special about who I am.”
“Everyone else disagrees with that last statement.” Pandora shook her head, “But I will let you in on the secret.”
“Yeah?”
“These are not due to your half spirit nature, but something truly special.” Pandora cupped his cheek, “Danny, do you truly wish to know? As amazing as this is, I am not sure you will be ready for the truth just yet.”
“I’m - I’ve been debating what colleges to apply for, but… I don’t know if any of them will take me now with my grades. I still look fourteen — fifteen at the oldest… and I still feel fourteen.” Danny looked at Pandora with pleading eyes, “So if this would impact my future, I think I’d like to know. Before things get complicated.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Suddenly, everything froze.
Danny looked up to see Clockwork putting a medallion on Pandora while Frostbite gave him a smile.
“I presume you’re here to assist in informing him?” Pandora asked.
“Indeed.” Frostbite nodded.
“Informing me of what?” Danny asked, confused.
“When you went to face Pariah Dark, you stated your intention to fight him.” Clockwork said, “And he accepted your challenge. You fought in single combat, removed the Crown of Fire from his head, and then managed to get him into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.”
“Vlad-“
“Plasmius might have locked the Sarcophagus, but you have repeatedly bested him and even when he has gotten the best of you, it has not been in single combat. However, Plasmius at one point claimed your fight was a ‘fun challenge’. You agreed — officially accepting it as such. When you defeated him, he lost any fragile claim to the throne.”
“Claim to the- Wait. What are you saying?” Danny glanced between them, “What? No. No… you have to be kidding me. I’m just me. I was trying to help, not-“
“Child, your soul was always going to be tied to the zone one way or another.” Pandora said, “Mortality is already a fragile thing, but someone so surrounded by ectoplasm at a young age all while experiencing the struggles you did with your parents absence… it was inevitable that you would be a powerful ghost.”
“But, then, Great One.” Frostbite continued, “You stood fully emerged in the space between worlds and thought of protection and forgiveness — mercy. You did not even consider vengeance or desires of your own. Only the wellbeing of others. It is an act of great sacrifice and not one many can complete so fully.”
“To put it simply, Danny.” Pandora said, “You’re one of us, Juna Protenco. New and young power that will grow infinitely. Though you are far from ancient, you will be with time.”
“An ancient to be.” Danny said distantly.
“The Ancient of Protection, Space, Mercy, and Matter.” Clockwork turned into his newborn form, “The best candidate for king we’ve had in a long time. Though, perhaps I am a bit biased.”
“Does it have something to do with space-time?” Danny guessed, “Because Matter, Time, and Space…”
“Correct.” Clockwork smirked, “Matter tells spacetime how to curve, and curved spacetime tells matter how to move. I guide you and you make changes that I will use to guide you again.”
Dannu blinked, “Oh. I get it.”
“You do?” Pandora blinked.
“That’s domains for you.” Frostbite chuckled and then quickly explained when Danny gave him a confused look, “We all innately understand our domains and their meanings. My domain is progression, society, and advancement.”
“Mine is responsibility, hope, protection, and perseverance.” Pandora revealed.
“Indeed.” Clockwork transformed into the middle aged man again, “But now that you know of your future, we must prepare.” He put his hand on Danny’s shoulder, “Your coronation must happen by the time you turn eighteen. As Ghost King, you will need to learn some diplomatic skills. We will teach you while you finish your human schooling.” Clockwork promised, “You can tell your parents the truth or you can say you are simply leaving for college, but Maddie and Jack Fenton cannot move to the Zone with you. Your sister is welcome. Your friends are welcome, but unfortunately…”
“I understand.” Danny lowered his head, “I don’t think I’ll tell them just yet. Maybe I’ll leave a note or a video, but…”
Clockwork’s eyes glazed over briefly — clearly checking the timeline.
“That is a good idea.” Clockwork nodded.
“Okay.” Danny swallowed, “I can’t -”
“No.” Clockwork said, “Honored as these two would be, they have their duties and people. They cannot. I am both bound by the Observants and a little too prone to acts of selfishness. It is too much power for me. No. It must be you.”
“You’re not selfish. You helped me.” Danny tilted his head, confused.
Clockwork chuckled guiltily as Pandora made a face and Frostbite shifted awkwardly.
“There is a reason people fear me, Danny.” Clockwork seemed more amused than anything by the sudden awkwardness, “I appreciate your trust in me, but I was not so good or kind in life. I hold domain over regret and retribution as well as time. It is a position I earned after giving and getting both in equal measure. I am not a protective spirit by nature. I am one that seeks justice and sometimes revenge.”
“I don’t get it.” Danny frowned, confused.
“Soon, you will.” Clockwork said grimly, “But for now… Trust me when I say all is as it should be.”
“Okay.” Danny said, “I trust you.”
“Now, time in.” Clockwork said. When Danny tried to give him the medallion he shook his head, “No, hold onto it. I believe it goes without saying, but do not lose it.”
“I know. I won’t.” Danny promised.
“Good, now… I believe you have some friends to talk to?”
“Er, right!” Danny said and rushed off.
“He doesn’t know who you are?” Frostbite turned to Clockwork, “And you haven’t told him?”
“… He’ll learn during his studies.” Clockwork admitted begrudgingly, “And it’s best that he come to me after he processes the information than during.”
“Just remember, Kronos.” Pandora glared as she handed over her medallion, “One wrong move-“
“Yes, yes, I am very aware of your opinions of me, Keeper of Hope.” Clockwork held a hand to Frostbite, “Shall I take you back to your people?”
“Er, yes.”
“Good, then-“
“Hey! I was not finished-“
“TIME OUT!”
Pandora sighed as they disappeared, “Ugh. He is always such a petty menace. One of these days…”
Not Huskerdust but Angel centric character study (feat. dad lucifer)
It's not a sharp pain. Not something that stabs and tears until you are nothing but pain and flesh and blood. No, it's constant. A low-grade ache in-between bone that gets worse when it rains. Always in the background, but easily ignorable if you can find something else to focus your attention on. If you can just not think about it.
Angel has perfected the art of Not Thinking About It.
His thighs are on fire, he doesn't even want to think about the mess that awaits his med-kit beneath his skirt, and still, he's more preoccupied with the weight in his chest than any of the vicious stinging going on literally everywhere else. Husk isn't at the bar when he tiptoes through the door, shame, he'd been hoping for a pick-me-up after today. They've been warming up to each other, he thinks, at least he's warmed to Husk and his- at first, rather off-putting- demeanor. Husk remains as blithe and unreadable than ever. But he's stopped calling Angel out on it when he dons his 'fake' affect.
It's necessary, sometimes. The reality of his job is that it's exhausting. That it injures him about as bad as it might if he worked as a boxer, that he hates himself a little more after each shoot because he signed for this. He allowed this. Val never lets him forget.
Sometimes, when the mood takes him, Val will want to 're-stake' his claim on Angel after he's been passed around a fair amount. Says, "It's to show the bitches what's mine" and Angel knows that includes him. It's never nice, never soft and overwhelming but only in the good ways, like it used to be. It just hurts. Val seems to take more pleasure in the humiliation of it than the act itself. He always moves faster when Angel cries, or bleeds, or- even better- both.
Angel's a professional, he cries when he needs to. When it means it'll be over faster, and he can crawl back into bed to try and sleep it off.
He doesn't know if Val realizes that, if it would make a difference. If it’d make it worse.
Point is, he needs to be fake sometimes, even still. Charlie, especially, wouldn't be able to handle it if he acted like he really felt all of the time. It helps him, too, focusing on maintaining appearances rather than the crushing realization that he is going to die, bloody and exposed.
Angel is so wrapped up in his- rapidly spiraling- thoughts that he doesn't clock the slumped form splayed across the couch, muttering to themselves, until they pop their head up at his late-night intrusion and lock eyes with him.
Sans top-hat, and his usual cutting smile, Lucifer fucking Morningstar is staring back at him, jaw dropped as his gaze struggles to remain on his face. That's fair, Angel supposes, he hadn't bothered cleaning up before heading home, not wanting to spend another minute in the studio and thinking the majority of the hotel would be in bed. Keyword being majority.
Fruitlessly, angel crosses his lower arms in a way that attempts to preserve his modesty.
"What crawled up your ass and died?" Angel drawls. Perhaps not the proper way to be addressing the king of hell, but it's going to be light outside soon, and to be fair, he does look like shit. Huge bags gather beneath each eye, his cheeks gaunt with a unique kind of Victorian despair you only really read about in books. At Angel's words, though, he chuckles- it's small, but seems real-and pushes his disheveled hair back from his forehead.
"You're one to talk, hm?" Another chuckle, "Come here." He pats the space on the couch beside him and scooches over to give Angel ample room. As he moves away, Angel can see what he's been muttering over- a small round frame, holding a picture of what looks like himself, a much younger Charlie, and a woman Angel has never seen before. Ah. Well fuck.
Angel, unprepared to be dealing with this minefield of a conversation, shakes his head.
"It's late, your highness. I've gotta cleanup before today's 'morning bonding activities'."
Lucifer gives him a dubious kind of look.
"You're going to do 'bonding activities' like that? You'll keel over. Come here, I think I can help." Angel isn't really sure how, considering angelic power hurts sinners and he doesn't see any med-kit around here, but he is vaguely afraid of rejecting the king of hell outright and incurring his wrath. They haven't had much time to get to know each other; considering Angel's track record with powerful demons, he's chosen to keep his distance. He's not sure how much Lucifer knows about his job either, or how much he knows about hell in general as it is now, considering he's been a recluse for decades.
"Uh..." Angel hesitates, glancing for a moment up the stairs towards his room. Wishing, more than anything, to be in bed cuddling with Nug right now.
"I'll be quick. Just... please let me help. You're one of Charlie's people, and I couldn't live with myself if I just looked away while you..." He gestures to Angel's body, and the violence carved into it, and Angel gets it. With a sigh, he makes his way to the couch and settles as far away as he can from where Lucifer is sitting, drawing both of his stiff legs to his chest when sitting normally makes him feel too exposed.
Lucifer chuckles, again, and Angel can hear what he mutters to himself, this time.
"Just like Char-Char, roly-poly-ing as soon as you get hurt."
Angel bristles. "I'm not your fuckin' kid, sicko. Do what you're gonna do and let me go, I've got a pig to feed."
Lucifer meets the words with wide eyes that almost immediately soften into something gentler, almost baleful. "Sorry." He mutters, then cups his hands and closes his eyes. After a few seconds, golden light starts to pool in the makeshift basin he's created, building upon itself until it's about a half-inch deep. Looks angelic to Angel, and, despite his name, he knows that kind of shit will kill him if he gets too close.
"Sir, I dunno if-"
"Shh..." Lucifer hushes, eyes still closed. There's a knit between his brows that wasn't there before. Angel wonders if getting in touch with his powers is painful at all, after what happened to send him here. He glances at the picture on the table, Charlie and her father look ecstatic, with matching face-splitting grins that they're exchanging with each other. The woman stands about an inch away, with primly folded hands, and a restrained smile on her lips. Angel isn't quite sure how to feel about her.
Before he can ponder any further on Lucifer's family and love life, the angel gasps, "Done!"
In his hands, the once-golden pool of light has turned a deep red, almost-like blood, just a shade lighter. It's a little close to Val's color, and Angel has to be thankful that it's liquid, not smoke.
"Now, can you set your legs down?"
Angel doesn't tear his eyes from the liquid in Lucifer's hands. What if it's not a cure? What if it hurts? Worse, what if he likes it? maybe that's what Lucifer's banking on, him liking it. that's how Val got him, and the colors are almost exactly the same. He can feel his chest constricting. He knew he should've just gone to bed.
"Ooookay... Or we can chill for a little bit." Lucifer gingerly places his cupped hands in his lap and lets out a low, unassuming whistle. Angel hates that it helps him calm down.
They stay silent and frozen for another few minutes over which Angel's breathing- excruciatingly- slows and his shoulders drop.
"Sorry..." It's his turn to mutter. Lucifer just smiles at him.
"That's alright. Can you get your legs now? Or do you need a minute?" He's so nice. Why is the king of hell so nice? Why does Charlie have such complicated daddy issues when her dad is so. Fucking. Nice? Angel throws his legs off the couch.
"Do your worst." He almost tacks on a 'daddy' at the end there, but catches himself just in time. Force of habit.
Lucifer smiles to himself like he knows, but telegraphs his movements as he leans forward and presses the liquid to the middle of Angel's chest, right at his heart. Angel flinches a little at the initial warmth, but Lucifer kindly ignores it, stepping back as soon as all of the liquid has- somehow, likely magically- seeped into Angel.
It's pleasant. Doesn't hurt, even as Angel can feel all of the deep, bleeding wounds on his back and thighs closing up. All he can feel is a steady warmth, like sitting in front of a fire, as it works its way through his body. A satisfied hum remains thrumming through him, even as the liquid finishes its work.
After less than five minutes, Angel feels as good as new. He doesn't think he's felt this good in decades. He can't help the grin that creeps onto his face at the well of feeling that bubbles in his chest.
"Shit! Thank you, sir! I feel great."
Lucifer is already looking at him when he whips his head around to thank him. He's got a wistful sort of look on his face that Angel couldn't even begin to decode. He returns Angel's grin, even looks a little better-for-wear himself. Got some color back, maybe.
"Anytime, Angel. And I mean that, anytime at all, even if it's not dawn and we're not the only ones here. I know a thing or two about keeping up appearances. It won't be a big, embarrassing thing."
With that, he winks and from thin air, his hat, coat, and staff appear, falling precisely where they usually sit. Once Angel recovers enough from the shock of that to look back at his face, his trademark pointy grin is firmly in place.
"Good morning Charlie! Ready to seize the day, huh?" He calls to a disheveled looking Charlie; she must've just woken up.
"Mo-" A yawn interrupts her greeting. "Morning, dad... Angel?" Angel grins over at her and nods.
"Just got back. Don't worry, I'll be up and at-em for our 'bonding activities' or whatever, m' just gonna go feed Nug."
For a moment, she seems dubious, but before she can ask further, Lucifer swoops in.
"I was just telling him to go get a little power-nap in! Here, while he does that, how do we feel about pancakes?"
Charlie gasps, sufficiently distracted, and follows him to the kitchen.
"My favorite!"
Angel chances one last glance at the two of them before heading upstairs. It’s a domestic scene, Lucifer has magicked an apron onto himself that says ‘Be Nice to the Cook’ and is whisking frantically while Charlie dozes on the island behind him. He’s still smiling, even when turned away from her, but Angel can see that it’s pasted on.
The picture has disappeared, too, he notices, when he finally turns away.
He’s not quite sure how he feels about any of this, right now. But nothing hurts.
Not anymore.
Another day another 100ish words: this time first gen microfic, platonic baku&shin !! 🧡💜
Day 10: Bakugou Katsuki & Shinsou Hitoshi
Shinsou is falling asleep. In class.
It’s distracting as hell, not to mention entirely disrespectful to the lecture Aizawa prepared for today. Given, it is a lecture about lesser-known loopholes in law that hardly ever come up, but still.
He worked his ass off to be here. He should be paying attention.
Katsuki tears off the corner of a page in his notebook, balls it up, and throws it at him. Nailing it right on his big fat forehead.
Stifling a smile, he turns back to the front just as the other boy stirs, straightening languidly.
Katsuki can feel his glare, and when he turns enough to see his face he mouths.
“You’re an asshole.”
Katsuki shrugs and simply points to the board.
Not like he’s wrong.
Words: 127
I think an important thing to think about here is that monogamous romantic relationships have two elements: connection and partnership. Connection is the part we tend to associate with relationships more often. That's your romantic feelings, your platonic love, the emotional connection and meaningful care.
On the other hand, partnership is the agreement made in a romantic relationship (although other relationships like qprs also involve partnership, romance is more common and thus will be used for the purposes of argument). Of course all relationships are unique and personal, but in general, a romantic partnership is a mutual agreement to:
1. Prioritize your partner
2. Provide emotional labor/support
3. Provide physical affection/support
4. Be a reliable presence in your partner's life
In a monogamous relationship, these are obligations— in whatever agreed upon capacity— that a person has to a single partner, and vice versa. In my experience, that exclusivity makes it much easier to adapt to the desires and needs of my partner. Because I only have one agreement in place, I can focus my energy on fully understanding the way my partner wants those obligations to be fulfilled and adapting the way I do things to match. And I can rely on the fact that my partner is doing the same! Having another partner wouldn't change how much I love my boyfriend, but it would mean learning how two different people like to be prioritized, supported, shown affection, and shown up for. I'd have to switch between those two modes (at least!), and reconcile each with the other. Because I only have one partner, I can focus on that single agreement without having to compromise or pull focus to another obligation.
Meanwhile, I'm not at a loss for connection. I love my partner, and I love my friends, my family, everyone. I'm incredibly emotionally fulfilled in every aspect of my life, and I do try my best to prioritize them, give emotional support, show affection, and be reliable! The difference is, that's a choice. Unlike a partnership, I don't have set responsibilities for my friends. If I did, I would go crazy trying to fulfill them all. By keeping that partnership to one person, I have much more bandwidth to choose to provide those things in a platonic capacity more often and more reliably.
All this to say, do what works for you! A lot of people are more fulfilled by polyamorous relationships, and that's phenomenal!!! Genuinely, I'm ecstatic that people are finding systems of partnership that work for them. I just think a lot of people focus so much on the emotional aspect of romance, they forget the labor and responsibility involved in a capital r Relationship™.
also monogamy is just weird to me i guess. its one thing if you simply don't have the emotional bandwidth to nurture multiple romantic or sexual connections (i barely do atp!) but like. imagine if we treated ANY other kind of relationship this way. you can only have one best friend. you can only have one sister. you can only have one mentor. and if you want to have more than one of any of these relationships it means you don't love the first person enough. like that's CRAZY! why is this sentiment applied so strongly to romance!
Timeskip Hubert and Ferdinand, but they’re still on their C support.
Guysssss gues who got a new idea for a new small project or thinggggg
I'm so normal about labels (as in flags) I'm sooooooo what
I'm not even done with ones that start with A what
Hell yeah I loooove abandoning unfinished previous projects so much (I will come back to kitties once. I promise)
I just decided to make a telegram emojipack where each letter has a flag of label that starts with that letter on top of it
I don't even have telegram premium to use it somehwere outside my notes this is crazy
the anons were both so sweet i just had to draw her
drawing genshin hard… i hope it looks good
She smiled more “there is a medical one,you will go in coma for a day but it’s affective!” She explained
((I have noticed I did this with my main account..sorry-))
(@ask-team-searchlights) Gen: "Um...h-hi," the Oshawott said, fidgeting with his reunion cape. "I'm Gen. Um...y-you seem pretty wise. H-have you ever heard of humans becoming P-Pokemon?"
‘I have heard plenty actually! It’s a bit common than you think,though most are willingly or don’t remember.” She croaks.she gave him a soft look and softly patted his head “I assume it wasn’t willing nor did you forget.there are many ways to turn you back human,so do not fret dearie.”
Ok I wrote this awhile ago but I'm rather proud of it so I'm posting it here :]
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Tw: blood, depictions of death, implied suicide
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Mark cowered in the corner of his room, his head pressed to his knees. His throat was raw from sobbing, his body exhausted.
He could still see the shadow outside of his door.
"Come on out Maaaark." It sang, it's voice welcoming, friendly.
Mark shakes his head violently, pressing cold palms to his ears, choking on his own spit.
He couldn't speak. It would know.
"Maaarrrrrrkk~" the voice whispers, it's tone sickeningly sweet.
The door rattles violently and Mark whispers, pushing himself further into the sharp corner he'd collapsed into.
He was going insane. He'd had nothing to stare at but grey, unwelcoming wallpaper.
That thing had done nothing but whisper in his ear-
"Mark."
He froze.
The voice was abrupt and sharp, its time sounded like it was dripping, fading into another, distorted and inhuman.
"Mark- Mark heLP-" it seems to be getting more urgent.
Marks breath hitches, his eyes widening, more tears spilling onto his cheeks.
"MARK!" It screams, Cesars voice piercing right through Marks heart.
"MARK, MARK IT'S OUT HERE WITH ME-" His agonized yelling sounds startlingly real- and Mark is sent further into madness with each passing minute.
He rips at his hair, his eyes pressed shut.
nononono
There's more banging on the door, and it's followed by high pitched, gutteral yelling. It sounded like Cesar was being ripped into a carcass right outside of Marks door.
His expression was that of a wounded animal, as he listened to the scenario play over and over in his head as the alternate rewound it's voice and played again.
Mark was frozen. He knew it wasn't real, he knew-
"MAR,,,K SA-VE MEEEEEeeee-" the alternate tried one last chance of impersonating his partner before it screeched again and smashed at the door.
A dark red liquid seeped through the crack between it and the floor, creeping across the hardwood into a large puddle of blood.
Mark looked on in horror, barely able to think.
In a last rush effort he launched his trembling self up from the floor and onto the bed, clawing at the sheets in an almost animalistic manner. His fingers finally found the solid metal object he had been looking for and he slowly lifted the shape of a gun out in front of him.
Without a second thought he raised it to his head, and
UH OH! BAD DECISION, MARK!
MBMBAM animatic with the ghost AU trio of madness. This was so fucking fun to make you don’t even know
Redesign challenge based on animal crossing villagers that have been absent since the gamecube era 1/3
Top row: Aisle, Emerald Bottom row: Gen, Hambo
Art base used is p2u base by plushpon
Can somebody please explain what the whole kendrick lamar and drake situation is? I don't understand that well and i don't have twitter