#//not sure what i wrote
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adriles · 1 year ago
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when we’re done with our overwhelming grief we’ll eat i guess
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introspectivememories · 2 months ago
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was it casual when i sat in your lap in public? was it casual when i said "recently my heart is crying because you're leaving"? was it casual when we decided how your last name would fit with mine? ("yuki tsunoda-gasly" / "no tsunoda, only gasly" / "yuki gasly?") was it casual when we sang adele's "someone like you" together at your going away party? was it casual when i knew it was you just by touching your ass? was it casual when i knew it was you by smell alone? was it casual when "will you miss me?" / "for 2-3 minutes maybe" / "i'll take that. even if it's just 2-3 minutes, i'll take that"? was it casual when that bus was completely empty and we still sat right next to each other, all the way in the back? was it casual when i picked you up multiple times so you could dunk a basketball? was it casual when i begged to come over to your house multiple time and then you finally let me and we cooked fried rice together? was it casual when we played christmas twister together and i said "your big eggplant is touching my ass"? was it casual when we were pressed up against each other on a scooter going two miles per hour? was it casual when-
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esaari · 8 months ago
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just Creed things
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nulnoildrinker · 29 days ago
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From Davos' wife's perspective, Asoiaf is kind of like The Odyssey. She waits at home with the remains of her family after her husband went off to war on foreign shores and presumably died. He has been hanging out with kings, nobles, pirates and an immortal(?) witch. Also he was last seen being sent to an island of cannibals and mythical creatures by a Merman Lord; but not before said lord declared to all the realms that he was dead.
Tell me, O Grrm, of the reliable knight who sailed far and wide...
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the-palelady · 10 days ago
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“simon?”
pools of amber glide up along the apples of your cheeks until he meets your gaze. he sits lazily on the sofa. the side of his calf rests against his knee and his arms are spread eagle on the back of the cushions as he takes you in.
“everything alright?”
he’d been in a trance this entire time, enamored by the routine waltz you did around your shared space everyday.
“s’nothin’ dove.”
he smells the doubt that wafts off of you, and stands. his big bear paw of a hand encompasses your waist when he walks by, a kiss pressing to the crown of your head.
“jus’ love ya is all.”
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blorbologist · 1 month ago
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syldor im coming for your fucking knees.
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solarmorrigan · 1 year ago
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Steve Harrington is absolutely the sort of person to become emotionally dependent on a pet. He grew up lonely and he loves taking care of things, and here's this creature that loves him unconditionally and is dependent on him for care? He's a goner
He finds a kitten in his backyard, wet and cold and alone, but in pretty good shape, all things considered. It hisses and swipes at him, but it's also mewing pathetically, and Steve can't just leave it, so he manages to get the thing inside with minimal blood loss (all his) and cleans it up and feeds it. It's a lot more amenable to the idea of Steve once it's warm and dry and full, and by the end of the day, it's curled up and purring in the crook of his neck, and Steve is already prepared to die for this thing
He does recognize that the right thing to do is to ask around and see if anyone is missing a kitten, which he does do, but no one on his street or the next one over lays claim to it, and there aren’t any kind of wanted posters going up for it, so Steve decides he is now the proud owner of a cat
He names her Baby and dotes on her accordingly. (In his defense, the name is Robin's idea; she tells him that he treats the cat enough like a baby, so the name might as well fit. Steve's always been shit at coming up with names, so he just goes with it)
Baby is the world's most spoiled cat, which Steve readily admits. But isn't that what cats are for? She's a wonderful cat and she clearly deserves nice things and Steve is going to get them for her. Toys, treats, a plush cat bed, the best food, whatever he thinks she could possibly need or want. If "I work hard so my cat can live a better life" t-shirts had existed in the 80s, Robin probably would have gotten one for him and he probably would have worn it
Of course, it helps that Baby actually does adore Steve. With everyone else, she ranges from frosty to outright hostile (she's taken a particular dislike to Eddie, of all people, which is unfortunate, because Steve really, really likes Eddie); she'll consent to be admired, and she'll accept treats, and she might even let more familiar people pet her, but in the end she is very much Steve's baby. If he's home, she's stuck to his side like a burr, curled up wherever he is and purring away, content just to be with him. She still snuggles up in the crook of his shoulder at night, just like when she was a kitten, even though she's bigger now and is a bit less easily accommodated
It goes without saying that Baby is strictly an indoor cat. Steve lives right up against the woods and there are predators out there, and people in town drive like assholes, and Steve won't take the chance of her being eaten or run over or meeting some other horrible fate. He really doesn't think his heart could take it
But of course, because all cats are terrible bastards at heart (affectionate), Baby darts out the back door one day as Steve is coming in off the patio, chasing after some other small animal that Steve can't even see, and she's out of the backyard and up towards the trees before Steve can do much more than make a grab for her
And Steve, who has survived interrogations and monster attacks and many situations objectively much more stressful than this, does not panic. He does spend half the night wandering around in the trees with a flashlight, shaking a bag of cat food and calling for Baby, but that's not panicking, that's problem solving
He eventually gets too cold and too tired to keep going and has to pack it in for the night. He holds onto some shred of hope that she'll be waiting by the back door when he wakes up, wondering why the hell it's taken so long for him to come let her in, but apparently that's not the way life works, because the patio and all areas around the house are still distinctly catless come daybreak
Eddie shows up sometime mid-morning, just as Steve is preparing to head back out and look for her. He has genuinely never seen Steve so upset; he looks like he might actually cry if he doesn't find that damn cat, which just isn't something that Steve does. But he's actually fucking distraught, and Eddie simply can't have that, even if Baby is his nemesis, so he goes to the phone and makes some calls
He cashes in on favors, he makes promises, he actually agrees to pay Mike ten bucks to show up, but he gets the kids, all the older teens (the only reason Robin hadn't been there already is because Steve hadn't paused long enough to tell her what was going on), and even the Corroded Coffin boys up to Steve's house to comb the woods for Steve's damn cat
It's Eddie who finds her in the end, a shock of pale, mewling fur actually stuck in a fucking tree. The cliche nearly kills him – either that or trying to climb down a tree one-handed while holding a cat. He's surprised she actually lets him pick her up, but then again, she's been out here all night, she's cold, and at least she recognizes Eddie. Maybe this is the beginning of a truce
Or, she might go back to hissing and swiping at Eddie any time she the mood takes her, but Eddie doesn't even care, because Steve is elated to have Baby back, so fucking happy that he doesn't even seem to notice that she's digging her claws into his arm as she clings to him for dear life all the way back to the house. Eddie will deal with anything that Steve loves that much
Steve pays for pizza to thank everyone for putting their Saturday on hold to search-and-rescue a cat, and everyone warms up and eats their fill before slowly filtering back out of the house. And later, after Baby's been cleaned up and fed and properly doted on and is purring away curled up over a heating vent in the living room, Steve takes Eddie upstairs to show his thanks in a much more thorough manner
After all – Baby is very important to him, and he's more relieved than he can say to have her back, but she isn't the only thing that Steve adores
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wistfulwatcher · 4 months ago
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2.05 The Aftermath | 5.01 Nameless, Faceless
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emiko-matsui · 1 month ago
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truly, if i was dame maggie smith, who had been knighted by the queen, acted for 72 straight years, won 58 prestigous awards for my phenomenal acting, and was nominated for a total of 157 awards, and then when i died every single news outlet was like "harry potter actor dead" i would actually be fucking furious. maybe id come back as a zombie
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calmlb · 8 months ago
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hc that Dazai made a point of calling Chuuya small when they met because Dazai was used to being the small one.
like, finally there was someone shorter than him. because let’s be real, Dazai was barely taller than Chuuya in Fifteen.
i think people forget how small Dazai was too— not just in height, but also in weight. He was underweight in Dark Era, but in Fifteen & even at present he's barely within the healthy weight range for his height. he was constantly described as a twig in Fifteen, and almost every time he's introduced in the light novels he's called lanky, slender, etc.
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grimalkenkid · 2 months ago
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“The Kind of Person I Wanted Back Then”
(Had a burst of inspiration thanks to @havanillas art of Aventurine with a baby, so have this angsty-yet-hopeful Drabble! Enjoy?)
Aventurine knew his place; he was a tool for the Strategic Investment Department to deploy in situations deemed too risky or underhanded for any of the other Stonehearts. He was basically disposable, a pawn who was nevertheless useful if he could turn the tides at a pivotal moment. So it came as little surprise when Diamond sent him to once again “offer” the IPC’s aid to a particularly stubborn border planet that refused to ally with the Amber Lord against the Antimatter Legion.
Even from orbit, Aventurine saw the scorched craters where once-thriving cities stood, though the sight couldn’t hold a candle to the devastation he witnessed firsthand in his opinion. Of course, he would offer his sympathies or condolences when he met with their leader, but he wouldn’t sugarcoat anything. If Diamond thought a gentle touch would get through their thick skulls, then he would’ve sent Topaz.
The negotiation went about as well as expected. Their leader was a tough, old soldier, determined to maintain his people’s independence. However, Aventurine had seen enough of the crumbling masonry and hastily-set tents along the outskirts to sense the cracks in the man’s resolve.
“Give the IPC a controlling share in the planet’s geothermal energy market, and you’ll have the Preservation’s protection.” The words burned his tongue, bitter and acrid.
Like they should have protected the Avgin…
Aventurine left the meeting having given the leader a few offers to ponder and many possibilities to chew on. He was certain they’d come around and agree to the IPC’s terms. Eventually, everyone did.
There were few casinos still operating within the city, having lost most of their clientele to leisure activities less reliant on luck. A shame, Aventurine thought, and so he returned to the small space-port, texting Stelle to pester her into playing online poker. They were two hands deep when a laser-scorched shuttle made an abrupt landing nearby.
Dozens of injured civilians and soldiers rushed out. Aventurine hung back, keeping out of their way as they undoubtedly hurried to the nearest hospital or, more likely, a first aid kit. He tried not to think of how powerless he was right then. For all his wealth, he couldn’t actually protect anyone. Only the IPC could wield that kind of power, and he was little more than their puppet.
With a heavy-hearted sigh, Aventurine tried to turn his attention back to his game, but a lone figure lagging behind the rest of the refugees caught his gaze first. It was a small child, his awkward gait a sign that he had just barely learned to walk. He stumbled about aimlessly, his wide eyes watery and darting everywhere. Before a single thought formed in his head, Aventurine had already pocketed his phone and strode over to the confused child.
The instant the child saw Aventurine approaching him, he abandoned his wandering and stumbled as fast as his little legs could carry him towards the only adult who even seemed to notice him. Aventurine knelt down in front of the kid, his heart nearly stopping as he saw his eyes clearly, with the distinctly two-colored irises of a Sigonian.
“Where are your—?” Aventurine started, but his question would have to wait as the kid slammed into his chest, clawing at his waistcoat and sobbing as only a frightened child could.
Whatever questions Aventurine had could wait. He slowly brought his hands up and wrapped the poor kid in an awkward hug. He wasn’t supposed to be the one who offered comfort, shouldn’t be the one people trusted. Wasn’t supposed to be a person, just a tool, a pawn. And yet this kid was clinging to him like a lifeline. The least Aventurine could do was give him reassurance in return.
He patted the kid’s head, speaking softly until his tears dried and his breathing grew steady. Only then did Aventurine lift him into his arms, whispering a comforting lie as he returned to the city,
“Now, let’s go find your parents.”
Hours later, and Aventurine had the answer he’d known all along. The kid’s parents were dead, and no one would take him in. Of course they wouldn’t; why would anyone take in a Sigonian? To do so would be asking to invite a future thief and liar into one’s house.
But Aventurine was already a liar. A murder. A loser.
As the kid fell asleep in his arms, Aventurine returned to his ship, shutting himself away from the prying eyes of his subordinates. He sat down in the first chair he saw and finally let his own tears fall.
“I’ll take care of you,” he swore with all the kindness and tenderness that remained in his scarred heart. “I won’t leave you to fend for yourself. I’ll protect you… I promise.”
And he meant it.
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infiniteglitterfall · 2 months ago
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Me in 2017-2023: "The big question about converting is whether you're going to stand with the Jewish people when things get bad, whether you really know what you're committing to, and I just never thought it was that scary. I'm openly, visibly trans. It's not like I don't know about systemic oppression and being part of a community that's targeted with loathing and violence."
Me in 2024, after a year of studying Jewish history while living Jewish history: "OH."
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autisticaradiamegido · 3 months ago
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day 222
constellation neighbors!
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fightmewiatch · 5 months ago
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The emotion behind the way Edwin uses fuck is so heavy, because outside of the pilot episode and the scene on the stairs, he doesn't swear. He's a proper boy, repressed and focused and he bottles everything up.
In the Pilot, "The police don't know what to do with a fucking witch", he isn't swearing about the witch. He's angry, and he's upset, and he's frustrated. He's trying to focus on solving this case, saving the girl, doing the right thing, fixing things. Edwin spent seventy years in Hell, fighting for a way out (the detail in his journal, he didn't get out on the first try, he spent those 70s years trying over and over and over to find a way out - but that is a story for a whole other time), torture and pain and heartbreak, only to get out and fall into the school to find out no one cared that he died. "An act of God." The school wrote him off, everyone wrote it off and that was it, that was the end of it, no one cared that a 16 year old boy went to bed and was never seen or heard from again, poof, gone. He spent Charles' last moments with him to keep him company, and calm, and not scared, the two of them knowing what had happened only for the school to once again cover up the death of a 16 year old boy and pretend that whatever happened didn't. Edwin spent the next 30 years connecting with Charles, trying to help ghosts so they don't spend their entire afterlives in a state of absolute sorrow and heartbreak like has. We get such a bare taste of the ghosts they've saved and helped move on, who knows how much good they've truly done, how many they've saved from going to Hell on technicalities like Edwin had done. He's frustrated with Crystal, because he's spent 30 years working with Charles and only with Charles, he knows his friend, he knows how he behaves and how he works and how he acts, those two are connected on a level some people only dream about, and here she comes, she latches on, and she joins them to help but she's so hyper focused on herself and David (understandably so), that she isn't giving the same attention to the case that Edwin and Charles have always done, and he's angry, and he feels like it's going to happen to this girl, he is worried that her focus on David, is going to cause them to fail. Crystal has every right to be upset and scared and everything else that she is, but she doesn't consider, until that moment, that Edwin has a right to be upset about how it seems to be interfering with the case. The way that she reacts when he says "The police don't know what to do with a fucking witch," she realizes it then just how important this case is. Edwin was dragged to hell, the boys around him obliterated - leaving behind the idea that maybe he was, too - so to the school, maybe Edwin just disappeared, like Becky, like all the other little girls over the years in Port Townsend. Solving Becky's case is so damn important to Edwin that he is taking it personally. And while it's subtle, Charles reacts to him swearing, too, as though Edwin does not swear. And based on the rest of the season, it's clear he really doesn't. The way he swears in the pilot is from a place of complete and utter sorrow and anger.
In ep 7, it's different. He's spent the whole season struggling with who is he, trying to come to terms with a feeling he'd repressed for at least a century, and he's had to do it while dealing with the Cat King and Monty and watching Charles flirt with Crystal and struggle through his own rage, he's done it as quietly as he could, as if bringing it up out loud might ruin everything that he's worked so hard for. But now he's in Hell, again, now he's trying to get out, again. Edwin encountered the reason he was sent there in the first place, and found out what really happened. Edwin spent all those years thinking it was purely malice that got him sacrificed, only to find out it was just because Simon had a crush on him, and did an absurdly stupid thing thinking it was harmless. I think in that moment, Edwin realized how easy it is to misunderstand something - because clearly, Edwin had absolutely no idea that Simon liked him at all, until the moment he admitted it in Hell. And then Charles shows up. Charles came to save him, armed with a bomb, a Molotov cocktail, and Edwin's notebook with a map of hell on it. Charles came down, he listened to Edwin's directions, he ran behind him most of the time to make sure Edwin was going to get out. Charles was with him, saving him from one of the rooms, following him to the stairs and up. He stopped with him, even when they needed to keep going, Charles let him have a moment on the steps. Edwin is in shock, he cannot believe it. All these years, all these write offs, all these moments where Edwin genuinely didn't think he'd ever get out of Hell if he were to go back, believed that if they ever got caught by Death or anyone from the afterlife, he would be damned forever because who gives a shit about a technicality, who cares about the poor boy that was sacrificed and written off by the rest of the living. Edwin didn't know what else to do or say, the emotions he'd kept bottled up while he tried to figure them out were coming out one way or the other. "It's so fucking stupid, it's unbelievable." Edwin didn't think he deserved it, thought it was stupid to come down and save him, because who would do such a thing. Charles risked himself to come down to Hell to save Edwin. Edwin never thought he'd be worth it. And when Charles just shrugs it off a bit, reminds him that he was gonna do it, and he's so easy about it that Edwin just. Confesses. And corrects him, when Charles misunderstands for a second. Charles didn't think twice about "Great. Love you too. Can we go?" And he really didn't even hesitate to reassure Edwin when Edwin clarified what he meant, that they had forever to figure things out.
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ourflagmeansgayrights · 2 years ago
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ngl the "im white so i dont talk abt any characters' race ever bc im afraid of accidentally saying something racist" approach to fandom is like. very weak. imo.
like first of all: i get that "i dont incorporate race into my media analysis because i'm afraid of messing up" comes from a different place than "i don't incorporate race into my media analysis because I Don't See Race 😊 there is only The Human Race." but it has the same functional effect, right? that effect being that your analysis of [INSERT MEDIA HERE] ignores the very real way that race impacts people.
second of all: it feels kinda lazy! like ur saying "i dont know enough abt race to feel comfortable commenting on how race affects this show and i dont care enough to learn." the only way to become more comfortable discussing race is to actually practice discussing race. but when i see people saying this it feels like they're saying "i'm white, which means i don't know how to talk about race, and i don't have to know how to talk about race, and i don't ever have to know how to talk about race, so i'm choosing to never learn how to talk about race."
third of all: just because you don't openly talk about race doesn't mean you're any less likely to accidentally say or do something racist. implicit biases run deep, y'all. it's probably already there in your interpretation of the show. but the "i don't want to accidentally say something racist" implies that you are positive that your interpretation of the show isn't racist. and i'm not saying you're wrong. but i'm saying that if a person of color tells you that something you said about [INSERT MEDIA HERE] was racist, you better be prepared to actually listen and not just brush them off because "i can't be racist! i purposefully never talk about race just to make sure i'm not racist!"
which brings me to my final point: if you do accidentally say something racist... literally just apologize. if someone says you've been doing something racist, apologize and stop doing that thing. it's literally not that hard. i've done it. i've seen other people do it. "i'm scared of being called racist!" is such a weak excuse im tired of it. getting called racist is not the end of the fucking world. calm the fuck down and grow a spine. jesus.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 7 months ago
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In Stars and Disco
(Disco side of the swap)
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