none of this is mine, i just like to look back at certain posts. if you like stuff one her on the meh 1 blog. follow,comment and like to the ORIGINAL artists/posters not me. they worked hard on these. they did not me. like something? go to them. Follow? follow them. Comment? COMMENT TO THEM. not me.okay? okay.
mutual pining simply never misses. the yearning. the stupidity. the desperation while also thinking themselves alone with it. the rattling relief at the revelation. the way it works in so many scenarios— friends to lovers? a banger every time. casual hook-ups/friends with benefits while they both want more? show-stopping, spectacular, incredible. enemies who are so deep in denial it just makes them madder at each other? utterly unmatched every single time. slow burn, fast burn, burning while already fucking. mutual pining really just is that girl like truly who does it like her
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i'm breaking the author's silence to address these tags directly, because i've seen similar responses a few times. your context is part of you. you like your favorite band because you found them somehow. you speak the languages you speak because somebody else taught you. you feel the way you feel because you have memories and experiences. shaving off pieces of yourself will not reveal a truth at the center, and will only make you feel less like a person worth being. you will never shed your context or influences, anymore than you will ever become younger or undrink a glass of water. but you are free to create as much additional context as you like. build yourself outward instead of digging for yourself at the center. trying 100 new things will give you 100 more data points on what you like, don't like, think, believe, feel. it might begin to reveal an image of yourself that you can recognize, respect, and love. your life is not an object to be kept clean, it is an ongoing action that you get to control. also that's starlight glimmer not rarity.
"Kill your local sex offender!" Oh, you mean the guy who went streaking at his local college football game on a dare one time? That's a sex crime.
"No, I mean-"
Oh, maybe the woman who had to pee in a public park that only had pay toilets, so she tried to hide behind the bushes but got caught? Public urination is a sex crime.
"What? No, I mean-"
Oh, maybe you mean the homeless guy who had to strip down to get his clothes in the laundromat to clean them for the first time in weeks? He tried being subtle, but someone called the cops on him, and now he's on the sex offender registry for public nudity.
"Rapists and pedophiles! Kill rapists and pedophiles!"
Oh, like the trans woman who got called a pedophile groomer for helping a trans kid escape her abusive parents?
Or maybe the black man who got labeled a rapist because he came on to another man's wife, and he decided to get back at him by charging him with rape?
How about the 17 year olds who were fooling around, fully consensually, in one of their bedrooms? That's still technically underage sex and thus rape of a minor.
Oh, or maybe you're talking about the doctor who performed genital reconstructive surgery in a state that just voted to get that classified as rape?
People will do everything they can to get you convinced rape and pedophilia are the worst crimes possible, then accuse whoever they like the least of being either a rapist, a pedophile, or both, counting on you turning on them just for being accused of the crime.
"Oh, so you're saying you don't want to kill a serial rapist?"
That's exactly what I'm goddamn saying.
Once we decide a group is okay to kill, the government will do everything they can to convince you that their political enemies are either part of that group, or just as bad as that group, to get you to kill their enemies for them.
The only way out is to accept every life as worth saving.
EDIT: If you're going to go on this post to say that no, you think you really should be allowed to kill people you decide are rapists and/or pedophiles, I'm going to block you. I have already been blocking you, because it's clear that you aren't willing to engage with what I'm saying.
Also, if someone says something like that we'd be better off with rapists being dead BUT that they won't let that opinion shape their stance on public policy, and you reply to that person to accuse them of wanting to murder people, I'm also going to block you, because what the fuck that's a completely different sentence.
EDIT 2: Since so many people seem to fail basic reading comprehension, let's state it again, in different words:
1. Killing people is bad.
2. Killing someone can never be undone by any means we have.
3. If the government can kill people, they will want to kill their political opposition and other undesirables (WHICH CAN INCLUDE YOU PERSONALLY AND ANY IF NOT ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY).
4. If there is a class of people OF ANY TYPE who the government can LEGALLY KILL, they now just need to convince you their enemies count as that class (ever wondered why there's so much emphasis on claiming gay people are pedophiles? Now you know!)
5. If there is a class of people OF ANY TYPE that the public can LEGALLY KILL, murderers just need to convince people that their victims counted as that class (I murdered him because he's a rapist. Anyway now his job is free promote me into that position plz.)
6. As pointed out in the notes (thank you everyone pointing this out!), if the penalty for a crime is death, people are much more willing to silence witnesses to that crime (for example, murdering their rape victims), which is EVEN WORSE than just committing the initial crime.
7. THEREFORE the only way to keep those from happening is to have NO category of people it is considered okay to kill FOR ANY REASON.
[Timkon lovesquare au] okay here’s the part I never posted here! This was a two part comic with the first one exploring superboy going for more traditional superman look (sort of based on an mlb episode where chat noir changes his whole suit and demeanor) after getting shunned by the public and media while this part was about Tim’s belief in him inspiring him to just be superboy
I’ve honestly been so busy with two jobs and having like no free time that I barely draw but I want to add more comics to this au 😣🙏
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oh my god. most of life really is about the little things. a good haircut, a nice playlist, trying a new recipe that turns out well, a poem that hits home, a comfortable spot in the sun, spontaneous messages, a pen you enjoy writing with, tea with the right temperature to drink, buying that thing you’ve been eyeing for a while, a warm bed. yeah im so grateful for the small joys
Always remember that the EU did a study in 2013 about the effects of piracy on media publishers and found that there is no correlation between piracy and sales! (And then they tried to hide that study bc that's not the result they wanted)
So piracy is at worst not even a problem, and at best it's free advertisement.
Source: (the link to the actual study is in the article)
In 2013, the European Commission ordered a €360,000 ($430,000) study on how piracy affects sales of music, books, movies and games in the EU
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fucked that you can’t fix other people especially when you really care about them. Oh so im just supposed to be there for you while you suffer. like a useless cunt gargoyle
Danny moves to Gotham and buys an apartment building.
It was more just a fun project for him to fix up the building, seeing as how after he took over VladCo, and cleaning up operations, Danny was making more money than ever, even after donating to various charities. So yeah, he was bored and just wanted to get his hands dirty and personally repair the appartments.
Once everything was fixed up, he opened the appartments for rent. He didn't really want to charge people, especially in such an area as Crime Alley, but not charging someone rent is way more sketchy than just asking them to pay whatever they could or wanted to. He ended up just setting the money aside to use on the appartments should it need any upgrades or repairs. He doesn't only take money either, while he denies "physical" payments and/or narcotics, he'll take lessons, like the man in 2B teaching him to sew, or the woman in 5A teaching him how to cook, or the two kids who give him very interesting shiny rocks as payment, there was even a few people who paid by cleaning the appartment building's shared places. One teenager paid rent one month by giving Danny a pair of sickly black and white kittens they found outside(they're named Casper, and Specter, and they're the Building's Managers in Pest Apprehension, and Danny loves them).
Because the appartments are so close to where the working girls/boys run, they make up most of his tenants, so Danny asks them to not bring clients back to the apartments, its dangerous to let their clients know where they live, especially because there are other tenants, including children, in the building so its a safety risk. They all agree, they don't really want their clients knowing where they live anyway.
Some do get stalkers though, and Danny is quick to get rid of them. Or when burglars manage to break in, Danny stops them before they can take anything, and if he managed to miss the burglar, he'll personally replace whatever was stolen until they could get the original stuff back. (Maybe he should adopt a gaurd dog, at least for the intimidation factor. Cane Corso's are medium sized*, hes sure he could get away with getting something like that. Something to think about later.)
A lot of his tenants say Danny is really kind, but thats not how Danny sees it, and its something he loudly denies. He's a bored rich person who was taking advantage of his wealth. Him providing them a safe place to live, and a little bit of comfort isn't kindness, its basic human decency. He's not some saint who is doing this of his own kind heart, he's a normal guy who was bored and just decided to do something helpful opposed to harmful, and he shouldn't be praised for that.
*Danny's idea of Dog sizes is skewed, to him Cugo is a big dog, anything smaller than that is medium to small to xsmall.
Bonus
-Red Hood(or the bats in general) thinks the appartment building was suspicious. Maybe it was some rich guy just being nice, but outside of Bruce, stuff like that doesn't happen in Gotham. Maybe its money laundering, or its acting as an underground brothel, or the owner is actually a massive creep. Either way, they want to be discreet, they don't want to ruin a good thing for people in need if everything happens to be clean happenings. So, they go under cover, Jason acts like a working boy, Damian is a abused kid/teen on the run, Steph is hiding from a abusive ex, maybe Alfred gets in on it and acts like an old man whos boss just fired him because of with no severance pay?
-Everytime Danny starts to get bored, he buys another building to fix up. Not always appartment building's, maybe a hotel, or an auto garage, or an abandoned building he could gut and turn into rec center. You'd think Danny would be burning through money, but no, somehow Danny's happenings leaked and it was good press because people are buying things from VladCo more and more.
tbh i think the funniest phenomena that’s been happening in the last couple years is “youtuber, having gone too deep into the research hole, has been made an investigative journalist against their will”
this guy started out poking fun at australian politicians and ended up investigating the firebombing of his own home, during which he uncovered connections between the same politician he was making fun of + major organized crime
“So I did what any normal person would do, okay? I bought a hat and some makeup and disguised myself so that I could go undercover and do some digging on what I thought could be an illegal gambling operation that was fronting as a kebab restaurant.”
I watched the second video and I feel it’s vitally important for people to know that the question “who firebombed my house?” isn’t a rhetorical one or a hyperbolic one, he genuinely doesn’t know because his list of proven enemies includes, in no particular order:
The cops
The terrorist surveillance branch of said cops
The government
No, seriously, multiple current and former government officials have openly stated beef with him
The most violent crime family in Australia
The gambling lobby
Money launderers
Other journalists
Drug dealers
The seventh richest man in Australia
Property Developers
And a partridge in a pear tree
He legitimately doesn’t know which one of his enemies might have done it (even though he has strong suspicions) because they’ve collectively already attempted to shut him up with legal attacks that could’ve resulted in actual jail time and many, many more shady tactics, including smear campaigns, outright lying to authorities (who also hate him) and lying under oath (the courts probably also hate him but are more quiet about it).
He legitimately went into hiding for a few months to assess the threat level after being firebombed and escaping with his life by sheer luck.
And you know what? He went right back to being an annoying little pissant to the most powerful people in his country and has become more prolific than ever after that video up there. I personally subscribed to his patreon because frankly? Anyone with that many enemies who legitimately want him silenced or dead deserves a few bucks a month.
I started watching the LEGO video by Reckless Ben because I have a few rooms to paint and “small town LEGO thief” sounded like the perfect low-stakes, long-form background noise to keep me going. 4 hours later and what the fuck what the FUCKKK
My spouse and I have been watching the updates that are actively being released and calling each other like
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Danny had spent the last six years building something stable out of the Infinite Realms.
Which, honestly, still sounded ridiculous when he thought about it too hard.
At twenty years old, Danny Phantom was somehow the acting Leader of the Infinite Realms version of the League of Assassins, mediator of territorial disputes, protector of portals, the peacemaker, and — according to Frostbite — “a deeply beloved young lord.”
Danny personally thought that title lost meaning the third time he had to stop two eldritch entities from starting a war over haunted soup recipes.
Still, the system worked.
So Danny did his rounds.
Checking territories. Listening to complaints. Solving problems before they became catastrophes.
And unfortunately, that included Walker’s Prison.
The prison loomed in the distance like a rusted beast made of iron and misery. Chains rattled endlessly somewhere in the fog while ghosts scattered out of Danny’s way the moment they spotted him.
Walker himself appeared almost immediately.
“Lord Phantom,” Walker greeted stiffly, eye twitching like it physically pained him to be respectful.
Danny gave him a lazy salute. “Walker. Any riots? Escape attempts? Illegal soul harvesting rings?”
“Only three this week.”
Danny snorted quietly and continued walking through the massive prison halls, half-listening as Walker listed updates about inmates, contraband, and a smuggling operation involving cursed playing cards.
Then Danny stopped dead.
His body just… halted.
Like every instinct he had suddenly slammed into a wall.
Down in the cafeteria, surrounded by dead warlords, failed tyrants, and extradimensional criminals, sat a living human.
An older man with sharp green eyes and a white streaks in dark hair, perfect posture despite the prison uniform.
Danny’s core went ice cold.
Walker noticed immediately. “Lord Phantom?”
Danny didn’t answer at first.
Because there was no way.
No fucking way.
But Danny knew that face.
He remembered that face looking down at him with complete indifference.
He remembered being ten years old and realizing, in those final moments, that this man had never loved him at all.
“…Walker,” Danny said quietly.
Walker straightened.
“Who,” Danny asked with terrifying calm, “is the Mortal?”
“Oh. Ra’s al Ghul,” Walker answered. “Imprisoned for the illegal misuse and contamination of Lazarus Waters across multiple realms.”
Danny stared.
Then he laughed.
It was sharp. Breathless. Wrong.
Several nearby ghosts immediately pretended they had somewhere else to be.
“Oh,” Danny murmured. “Oh, this is rich.”
His eyes flared green.
Not the bright, clean ectoplasmic green most ghosts associated with Phantom.
This was darker.
Sickly.
The color of corrupted Lazarus Waters.
Walker took one instinctive step backward.
Every survival instinct he had developed over centuries screamed at him to leave immediately and pretend he had never seen anything.
Unfortunately, it was his prison.
Phantom started walking again.
Slowly.
The cafeteria quieted almost immediately as inmates noticed him approaching. Conversations died mid-sentence. Trays stopped moving.
Ra’s looked up at the disturbance with visible annoyance.
Then confusion.
Because the being walking toward him looked young, young enough to be almost insulting.
Tall now, broad-shouldered, clad in black and white with space itself curling unnaturally through the edges of his aura — but still young.
And furious.
“Ra’s al Ghul,” Phantom said pleasantly.
The room went still at the tone.
“Well,” Phantom continued, smiling without warmth, “this is a surprise.”
Ra’s narrowed his eyes. “Should I know you?”
Phantom’s smile widened.
“You know,” Phantom said conversationally, “that answer honestly hurts my feelings a little.”
Ra’s opened his mouth, but he never got to speak.
One second he was sitting down.
The next, his face slammed into the metal cafeteria table hard enough to crater it.
The sound echoed through the entire prison.
Several inmates screamed.
One ghost in the back dropped his lunch tray and whispered, “Oh, thank Ancients it’s not me this time.”
Phantom had Ra’s pinned before anyone could react, one hand twisted into the man’s hair while his other pressed him against the ruined table.
“Don’t worry,” Phantom called casually over his shoulder. “I’ll fix the table later.”
Walker stared at the destroyed table.
“…You always say that.”
“I usually mean it.”
Ra’s struggled violently beneath him. Phantom barely had to use force anymore. Twenty years old in human age meant very little when his existence had become something vast and ancient enough to make lesser ghosts instinctively lower their heads around him.
Phantom shoved Ra’s to the floor instead.
Hard.
Then planted a boot against his throat.
The entire cafeteria watched in horrified silence.
Because Phantom was kind.
Phantom negotiated treaties.
Phantom gave second chances.
Phantom once sat through a forty-hour mediation between two warlords because one had allegedly “stolen the other’s emotional support leviathan.”
This?
This was something else.
Phantom looked down at Ra’s with open hatred.
Not rage.
Not blind fury.
Hatred aged over ten long years.
Carefully preserved.
“Walker,” Phantom said calmly, never taking his eyes off Ra’s, “how much money would it take to transfer custody of this inmate to me?”
“What?”
Phantom finally glanced back. “I asked how much.”
Walker blinked.
Then blinked again.
Because somehow that was the part that disturbed him most. Phantom — the paragon of individual rights and resident goodie-two-shoes — would never ask something like, "How much money do you want for him?" as if this were a slave market.
Pointdexter slowly raised a hand from one of the cafeteria tables. “Uh… Lord Phantom? Respectfully? What the fuck is happening?”
Phantom ignored him.
Ra’s finally managed to rasp out, “Who… are you?”
Phantom stared at him.
Actually stared.
And his grip tightened slightly against Ra’s throat.
"Seriously? You don't recognize me even after all the hints I gave you?" Phantom mocked. "Don't you remember how you treated me? Like a punching bag? Like a spare? Don't you remember putting your foot on my neck until I died, only to use my body like some twisted kind of footrest?!"
Ra’s went still.
Walker’s expression changed instantly.
“Oh,” Pointdexter whispered faintly.
Phantom’s voice never rose.
That somehow made it worse.
“No,” he breathed, face going pale.
Recognition finally hit him.
“Oh,” Phantom mocked quietly, smiling. “There it is.”
“…Tariq?”
The name sounded wrong coming from him.
Phantom’s eyes glowed violently green.
“Don’t.” The word cracked through the cafeteria like thunder. “You don’t get to say my name like you know me, grandfather.”