#AND IT'S SAD

[fictionadventurer]

"That's not my mom/grandmother/dad/grandfather, etc."

I promise you it is. They've been altered by disease, but it didn't erase their identity. They still have many of the same personality traits and interests and memories that they always had, and even the parts that have changed can still be worth knowing. There are those who only know them as they are now, and they can still find them funny and fascinating and likable and endearing, and you don't want to miss out on this part of their life.

"I don't want to remember them like this."

So you're admitting your love of them is conditional? That there's a certain point that disease or disability can bring them to where you no longer wish to know them? Their decline may be difficult to watch, but you can't abandon them to deal with it alone. If you really love them, you can love them through every point of their life. Don't let fear cast out love.

[idlyfretting]

they are longing to stray

(Read on Ao3)

Steve tried to ignore the empty cushion next to him, staring determinedly at the TV across the room. He’d popped in a VHS without looking at the case, before settling down with his reheated leftovers. It was some subpar action movie, one that he pretended to like more than he actually did just to annoy Robin. 

The absence of her running commentary somehow made the movie worse. 

He hadn’t seen Robin in two weeks. It was the longest they’d gone without talking to each other since Starcourt.

Steve picked at the fried rice in his lap, moving it around more than actually eating it. It was the last bit of food in the fridge. He needed to stop on his way home tomorrow and stock up. He should have done it last week, but he hadn’t really felt like doing anything last week.

He missed her.

God, this is worse than a break up. He would have laughed at himself if he wasn’t so fucking sad. 

It was like Robin had taken half his soul with him when she’d stormed out of their apartment two Saturdays ago. Like she’d packed her duffle, snagged her jacket off of the counter, and ripped his arms off on her way out the door. He didn’t feel like a whole person anymore.

One of their coworkers at the coffee shop had called them ‘unhealthily codependent’ once. Steve thought he understood what they’d meant now. 

He wanted Robin back. He’d do anything to get her to walk back through that door, call him an asshole, and stomp into her room. He’d take the silent treatment over her just being gone. Hell, he’d take five more screaming matches and hurt feelings, and words neither of them mean to say but can never take back, over this emptiness. 

The worst thing is he knows where she is. He knows the number he could call. He could beg for forgiveness, say he was sorry a million times, tell her he’d never say anything about who she wants to date ever again. 

He could say he was lying when he’d shouted that it wasn’t jealousy, even though that would be a lie itself. He could say that he didn’t know anything about healthy relationships, he had no place to judge. 

He could call. But he also couldn’t. Because Robin probably didn’t want him to, wanted him to keep his apologies to himself. She probably wanted him to fuck off and never talk to her again. She hadn’t called him after all. And after a conversation with one of her friends at NYU, he realized she hadn’t called anyone except her professors, telling them she had to leave town for a bit and asking for extensions or forwarded schoolwork. Dana had asked if Steve knew what had happened.

“I’m trying not to be worried, but this just isn’t like her.”

“She’ll be back. She wouldn’t just drop out in the middle of the semester.” Steve had told himself that repeatedly, trying to soothe his own worry.

“I know, I know. You’re right. But it still doesn’t make any sense. Did anything happen? Nothing seemed wrong in any of the classes we share, so maybe it was a personal thing–” She interrupted herself with a gasp. “Oh my god . Was it a girl? I know she was talking to that one from Boston, got all flustered whenever she brought her up. Do you think it had anything to do with that?”

Steve hadn’t known how to answer that. What was he supposed to say?

Yeah, it was about that girl from Boston. But not really, I guess. It was more to do with how Robin had somehow fallen ass over teakettle in love with my ex, who had been visiting New York with her girlfriend for a few days and then kept coming back alone every weekend after that to hang out with Robin. 

And then Robin came home one morning after staying out all night with her, and said they’d kissed and then more-than-kissed and then decided they wanted to start dating each other. 

And instead of being happy for her, I opened my big mouth and said “Fuck, not again.”

So he couldn’t call Robin. Because that would mean calling her in Boston. 

Which would mean calling Nancy. 

And one: he really didn’t want to do that.

Two: he was pretty sure she’d just hang up on him anyway, especially if Robin had told her about their fight.

Three: if she didn’t hang up, all he probably would have gotten was Tina’s Halloween Party: The Sequel. Which was maybe a little unfair of him to think. But he was sad and his best friend was gone, so fuck it. He could be a little bitter. It helped him with the guilt that was eating away at his brain. 

Fuck, he missed Robin.

He dumped the leftovers into the trash, having only eaten a few bites. He washed the tupperware on autopilot. It was starting to stain, they’d need to replace the set soon. They’d… he’d? 

He hoped it was still a they. He hoped he hadn’t fucked this up beyond repair. Robin would come back. Steve would grovel. She’d call him a dingus. And they’d never bring up Nancy ever again. 

That would be difficult with Robin and Nancy dating of course, but Steve was aces at ignoring shit when he didn’t want to talk about it. And he had the feeling Robin would be okay with this one exception to their ‘telling each other absolutely everything, even when it was gross’ schtick.

He shut off the TV and the lights and made his way to his bedroom in the dark. The room he had here in New York could not be more different that the one he’d had back in Hawkins. His high school bedroom had been plucked right out of a Home & Gardens spread, no personality and absolutely no warmth. The room he was in now was painted a creamy yellow and covered in posters and pictures and paintings. The small desk in the corner was overflowing with loose leaf papers, random textbooks, and unwashed clothes. It looked more like a teenager’s room than his actual one had. 

On his first visit to their apartment, Dustin had taken one step into his room, smiled, and said “So this is what it feels like to be inside your head.”

With the lights off, Steve could barely make out anything, seeing mostly dark rectangles on the walls and messy blobs piled on the floor. He stripped down to his boxers and face planted into his bed. Sleep was unlikely, but maybe if he closed his eyes and pretended hard enough, he could get enough rest to make it through tomorrow without crying.

(Read on Ao3)

[arainbowmess]

So we all agree that the song blood // water ( by grandson) is about kaz's storyline with Pekka Rollins, right?

[bandzboy]

there's this post going around on twitter of someone giving their opinion that idol's dance skills are the least important to them and that they are artists first and they don't hear the squeak of their feet on the track so why does it matter, which is something to also unpack in itself, but then someone quoted that tweet being like "idols... are...artists?" and.... i just can't help but stare because if this doesn't show how people don't take idols artistry and talent seriously and only see them as content and not people then i don't know what does.... so you are telling me this WHOLE TIME... you thought they couldn't be classified as real artists even tho they spend years and years training to debut and spend days practising for performances and recording and doing wtv else but you still THINK... they shouldn't be called artists like?? if you genuinely think that it means that you don't actually like the music they produce and the performances they do which also begs the question: if you don't like it... WHY TF ARE YOU HERE THEN??

[nelson-riddle-me-this]

Saw a home decor shill influencer use that Laufey song what goes "everybody's falling in love and I'm falling behind" in a reel where they kiss their gorgeous longtime partner in an excessively clean San Fran loft that has to cost more per month than my total college tuition.

THAT SONG IS NOT FOR YOU!!!

YOU'RE THE EVERYBODY!!!

YOU'RE NOT BEHIND, YOU'RE AHEAD!!!

[gilgil-machine]

Decided to check Gilgamesh tag for art and stuff but it's filled with quotes from the epic of Gilgamesh where Gil mourning over Enkidu and now I'm sad.

[borialover]

I haven't posted anything for a while, haven't I

little doodle for my bby Yuji

[absolutelygenderfluidcrow]

To all you little gays out there living your pretty little romances with your pretty princes and princesses and royals and enjoying life by sharing a part of it with the marvelous person you so ardently love, listen here ya little shits-

I am so so proud of you (even tho there's a teeny tiny crumb of jealousy eating away at my heart), just know that your love is beautiful and you deserve every feeling of fluff you can find within another individual. Queer love is full of wonder. It's the kind of love you never understand until you feel it. And then it gets even more confusing. And that's the beauty of it all. Stay gay y'all.

-fellow queer human <3

[amynchan]

I vaguely recall a take somewhere that Wei Wuxian never actually liked Jiang Cheng and hung out with him due to the life debt he owed Jiang Fengmian. While I personally disagree (and no, I won't elaborate. I don't have enough knowledge to argue it academically within the frame of the surrounding culture and I'm painfully aware of that), thinking about it makes me hurt.

Because regardless of Wei Wuxian's motivations, Jiang Cheng did love him. Fiercely and recklessly and stupidly. Enough to warp him forever. Enough to hate as fiercely and as stubbornly as he did for so long.

This interpretation makes me want to bundle Jiang Cheng up, whisk him far away for a long while, and help him find himself after giving too much of his own worth to someone who wasn't truly on the same page as him (this isn't bashing. Wei Wuxian needs to do what he needs to do. And Jiang Cheng has to learn to live without him and his ghost).

Just... the thought of doing what you can and it not being enough. It never being enough.

Aaaaargh.

[lady-de-mon-coeur]

"I can't hate ML apart from Puppeteer 2" thanks God I'm built different. I can't hate it at all, no exceptions.

[godtears]

Actually seeing people associate New Hampshire with white people is really disheartening because it really shows how successful the government/colonizers was/were in eradicating the indigenous folks that lived here. It's upsetting.

[bison-appreciation-club]

I miss regional dialects

[laikuh]

anyway actually am taking a break to come on tumblr and say i think i figured out the premise of my first (probably only) deanbobby fic.

[gorgo4ne]

"Useless ray of goddamn sunshine. You could have taught an old fool like me a lot."

Referenced Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivan (1885)

[sleeplessv0id]

what doesn't kill you makes you weird at intimacy