So You're Telling Me, You're Not Obsessed With Two Gay Ass Motherfuckers, That Permanently Altered Your

Jason refusing to admit that Bruce and him are alike, while Bruce being oblivious to their raging similarity is the funniest case scenario ever.

Tim, waking up after a nap, and seeing a familiar big figure standing with his back to him: Hey, Jason.

Bruce, turning around, confused: Jason left an hour ago.

Tim: ...Sorry, you look like twins

Bruce, sighing: I wish. But we are not, really.

Tim: ??????

Some goon, shivering from fear: B-Batman, please, spare me!

Red Hood, leaving the shadow, even madder than before: Do I look like fucking Batman to you, man?

Goon: I-I mean, when you are standing in the darkness with your arms on your chest, and say "Now, talk"—

Red Hood, irritated: One word, and I am putting a bullet in your empty head.

Goon: Yesss, sir.

Damian, staring as everyone in the house first put cereal in the bowl, and then add milk, while Jason and Bruce demonstratively (and obliviously) do it in the opposite order in the perfect synchronisation: Why do they—

Alfred, shaking his head: Please, don't point it out, Master Damian. Either way, they will start arguing, and Master Jason will instantly teach himself to do it in the opposite way.

Damian, rolling his eyes: Whatever.

Dick: So, do you all know that Bruce and Jason refuse to admit that they are alike?

Everyone: (nod)

Dick, smirking: I fucked up Bruce's files and Jason's guns in the span of a minute...

Everyone: Why would you do that—

Bruce and Jason, from the opposite sides of manor, in the same furious voice: RICHARD JOHN GRAYSON

Dick: ...Just to demonstrate to you THIS. Now, if you don't mind, I'll go get back to Blüdhaven.

If you’re a Non-Muslim and you see a Muslim praying in public, could you please not pass in front of them?

Go behind them, but not in front. 👍

TALK TO YOUR OCS

I know, it sounds fucking silly, but if you just imagine yourself talking with them, and ask them questions, their answers will just come to you. You will make progress using this technique. It sounds stupid, but IT WORKS

I recently finished a flower piece and have started on a duck with lake flowers thing.

Embroidery is a thing I do while watching TV cause I can't sit still :)

“i need to learn how to embroider” NO THE FUCK I DONT!!!! GET BACK TEXTILE DEMON!!! BACK I SAY!!!!!!!!!

We talk about this far too passionately for me to not reblog this <3

I don't think we're paying half of the attention we should be to the inherent horror of the Isekai trope. God knows I love it, like a stupid amount but can you even imagine?

Typically, the character firsts dies, hit by a bus, some illness, murdered, and that's your starting point. You die, in some gruesome way you are ripped from your world and then thrusted into another. You stopped breathing, you ceased to exist, you died. You didn't though. Because you're alive. All of a sudden, it's like nothing happened. But it did, didn't it? Tell me, is a wound still a wound if there's no scar? Where do you put all your grief if there's no grave?

There's no time to focus on that though, because you're in a stranger body. That's body horror, babe. Your skin is fairer, your hair is curled, your legs are longer, every part of you is not your own. Your hair, the colour of your eyes, the damn figure of your body, you don't look like yourself. Your nose is too straight, your smile lines are gone, your cheeks are rosey. Your hands aren't worn in the right places, maybe not at all, where are your burn marks from the stove, your calluses from your work, the cheap, chipped nail polish. You can't walk on these legs, these aren't the legs that took your first step, they aren't the legs you scraped learning to ride a bike, these legs haven't carried you through your life.

And what of these people who know you? No, not you, the person you're living in. It's their name you must respond to, their memories you must bluff through, their fate you must live through. You must abandon all sense of self to survive, you can never be yourself again because you died, you never existed here, because you are someone else now. You have been pulled on stage without a script, how long until they realize? That you can only echo back what they've said? That their child doesn't know their parent anymore? Their childhood friend, their lover, their rival.

What about them? Did they die for you to take their place? Have they taken yours? What have they endured, what did they love, why did this happen, how are you suppose to carry on when you have you have no idea if they're safe? Every good thing that happens to you should have been theirs, every bad thing that happens to you they've had ten times over.

What about the complete loss of your original world, hm? Especially in a fantasy world. You will never stand in your childhood home again, never eat your regional dish again, never hear the popular songs on the radio. Everyone you have ever known is in a world divorced from the one you are trapped in. You will never see them again and they will never know why.

You are an imposter in every meaning of the word, you never wanted to be, and you can never stop, and no one will ever understand because you're the only real person in this world. You will always be alone, in your happiest ending, you will never escape the world you were dragged out of to be reborn.