#FUCK YOU I CARE ABOUT YOU NOW

[lastoneout]

I know this is a tiny part of the wider problems born of diet culture, fatphobia, classism, and racism but like god the idea that "healthy" food must inherently taste bad has completely ruined us as a society.

[eyes-inthe-dark]

it's christmas and suddenly my dash is THRIVING

some of the funniest shit ive seen in month

i think we all know what this means and while it is funny that we all flee onto tumblr to escape the hell that is family or being alone around this time

i'm sending hugs and kisses to all who need and/or want them

you have gotten through this and you will continue to get through!

take as long of a break as you need, and know that you are seen and loved!!

[evgar]

pretty boy rio <3

full piece here

[keferon]

The tac net crash chapter is one of my favorites so far~

Ah and. Guess what. I just discovered that including this post, I made 50 pieces of fanart for Mistakes on mistakes until.. I’m so sane and normal about this story can you tell👍

[starry-bi-sky]

on a completely separate note; shizun luo binghe with a disciple shen yuan who fell into the abyss??? *thinks about LBH canonically stealing SQQ's corpse for 5 years* he'd hallucinate i think. like, like visual and audial hallucinations.

Keeps thinking he's seeing SQQ in the corner of his eyes, or wandering between the trees, amongst a group of disciples. Thinks he hears him calling for him, but its just the wind or another disciple.

Gets Xiu Ya reforged but patently fucking refuses to make a sword mound. Because his disciple Is Not Dead :))) There was No Body. He's Not Dead. And If You keep Insisting That He Is, He's Gonna Skewer You :). He's holding onto Xiu Ya so he can return his most favored disciple's sword when he returns. It's on his hip right next to Zheng Yang where it's supposed to be.

Also this motherfucker?? does not sleep btw. He has the image of SQQ, wide eyed and hysterical and standing at the mouth of the abyss burned into his fucking eyelids. Can't use the dreamscape to escape it either because he keeps trying to save him and either he does and it's an incredibly cruel trick to wake up to, or he doesn't and he gets his heart broken in several different pieces again.

There is no convincing this man that Shen Qingqiu is dead. Absolutely nothing at all. He is buried so deep in denial that moles would be jealous of how deep he is. He keeps making tea for two in the bamboo house only to remember that it's just him. SQQ's fans are hiding everywhere, little reminders of his presence. He goes to wake up SQQ on the mornings he sleeps in-- only to find the room empty.

[phanrenaissance]

funniest thing that came out of the rpf tournament is finding out there's like. 5 middle aged women who are absolutely ride or die for the homophobic guy from supernatural who got dumped by his co-stars over twitter

[solarpunkani]

Late night wishful thinking but like

I think planting funky things around retention ponds should be more normalized!!

Like okay I get it retention ponds are meant to hold the runoff water from parking lots and drive throughs and the like so they aren’t exactly the cleanest water around. But like!!! Maybe this is different in other areas, but the only plants I ever see grow around retention ponds are cattails!! Which, like, are fine and great and dandy lets go cattails, but like

Where’s the whimsy?? Where are the flowers?? If I’ve got to see retention ponds whenever I go to a store or drive down the highway or pick up food for my mom, at least bring in some flowers!!

And it’ll benefit so much! A wider variety of plants can make it a more welcoming home to wildlife! Maybe the plants will filter some of the runoff stuff and the water can then be nicer for even more wildlife! Maybe the flowers can be a nice food source for butterflies and bees on their journeys and day trips!! And humans like seeing things be pretty!

Maybe its easier said than done! Maybe most places already do this and its just my city or state that doesn’t really I’d be willing to believe that! But lets get some color in these goddamn retention ponds!!

Swamp milkweed! Aquatic milkweed! Pickerelweed! Water lilies! Irises! Cardinalflower! Fuck it, put some goddamn duckweed in there!! Get some color in those things or so help me!!

[babacontainsmultitudes]

RIP Will Campos the only person who was murdered this episode.

[sugarcoatednightshade]

thinking about how Humans Are Space Orcs stories always talk about how indestructible humans are, our endurance, our ability to withstand common poisons, etc. and thats all well and good, its really fun to read, but it gets repetitive after a while because we aren't all like that.

And that got me thinking about why this trope is so common in the first place, and the conclusion I came to is actually kind of obvious if you think about it. Not everyone is allowed to go into space. This is true now, with the number of physical restrictions placed on astronauts (including height limits), but I imagine it's just as strict in some imaginary future where humans are first coming into contact with alien species. Because in that case there will definitely be military personnel alongside any possible diplomatic parties.

And I imagine that all interactions aliens have ever had up until this point have been with trained personnel. Even basic military troops conform to this standard, to some degree. So aliens meet us and they're shocked and horrified to discover that we have no obvious weaknesses, we're all either crazy smart or crazy strong (still always a little crazy, academia and war will do that to you), and not only that but we like, literally all the same height so there's no way to tell any of us apart.

And Humans Are Death Worlders stories spread throughout the galaxy. Years or decades or centuries of interspecies suspicion and hostilities preventing any alien from setting foot/claw/limb/appendage/etc. on Earth until slowly more beings are allowed to come through. And not just diplomats who keep to government buildings, but tourists. Exchange students. Temporary visitors granted permission to go wherever they please, so they go out in search of 'real terran culture' and what do they find?

Humans with innate heart defects that prevent them from drinking caffeine. Humans with chronic pain and chronic fatigue who lack the boundless endurance humans are supposedly famous for. Humans too tall or too short or too fat to be allowed into space. Humans who are so scared of the world they need to take pills just to function. Humans with IBS who can't stand spicy foods, capsaicin really is poison to them. Lactose intolerance and celiac disease, my god all the autoimmune disorders out there, humans who struggle to function because their own bodies fight them. Humans who bruise easily and take too long to heal. Humans who sustained one too many concussions and now struggle to talk and read and write. Humans who've had strokes. Humans who were born unable to talk or hear or speak, and humans who through some accident lost that ability later.

Aliens visit Earth, and do you know what they find? Humanity, in all its wholeness.

[knifearo]

ultimately when it comes to shipping and fandom space treatment of aspec characters i just don't accept "aro/ace people can still date/have sex" as an answer from nonaspecs. like yeah. mhm. okay. now i think we both know that you're not saying that out of real interest in the diversity of aspec experiences. so you can turn in your seventeen-page essay on why and how you plan to examine this character's aspec identity within the context of a romantic or sexual relationship complete with evidence from canon and peer reviews from multiple aspec people within the next week or i'm putting you in the pit from the edgar allen poe story

[gentlenotes-moved]

hey, you guys. life gets so much more fun when you let yourself enjoy the small pleasures of life, love your friends loudly and wholeheartedly, and let yourself be loved.

[wistfulwatcher]

EMILY & HOTCH DANCING in 7.24 RUN

[burningcheese-merchant]

I think more ppl need to see this

Yeah for real lol. That's exactly what it is with him. Not to toot my own horn too much but I believe this post I made ages ago hits the nail on the head haha

"I'm bored" is... technically true. In a sense. Personally, I think it's a very simple and vague allusion to the real problem. That thin sheet of snow coating a massive, freezing cold iceberg. Just barely obscuring it from proper view.

imo it's been a bit disappointing seeing people take to extremes with Burning Spice's character. I've seen people either woobify him, downplay or excuse his actions by saying "he's not evil! He's hurting! He's depressed! He doesn't hate people, he's lashing out because he can't internalize his pain anymore!", or just demand he be put to death immediately on sight without trial. You can like a morally repulsive character and sympathize with their issues while also acknowledging that they're repulsive and need to face justice for their crimes. Burning Spice is one of my favorite characters, I love everything about him, he's sexy as fuck, I understand why he's the way he is, I'm still happy to see his ass beat because he's a piece of shit and he deserves it lol.

Not to throw shade at "simpler" villains ofc. I love me some assholes that are assholes just because they can be. Like Jack Horner in Puss in Boots 2. But Burning Spice isn't Jack Horner and he honestly shouldn't be. The deeper, sadder, more complex reasons governing his actions suit him better than just "I'm bored fuck this shit" and nothing else ykwim

and of course, he's still wrong. Burning Spice's view of the world is wrong. Does a book begin just to end? Does a song play just to finish in a few minutes' time? No. They begin so that we may read, listen, and enjoy. So that they may make us laugh, or have us shake our heads in disappointment, or tell us some hidden truth. Make our days and lives a little more interesting than they were before. Life is beautiful BECAUSE it is fleeting. Born, grow, wither, born, grow, wither. Yes, that's how it goes. But there's so much more to those things than just what we can gather from those three words. Every day is different. Though the sun rises every morning without fail, it's never quite the same color, is it? Always a bit of a different shade of yellow, orange, red, bleeding into the sky a little differently each time. There are so many things to see and do, games to play, people to meet and love and cherish. Maybe some of those things and those people won't be here someday but that doesn't mean their existence never meant anything. We are not born to die, we are born to live. We must die for those who are to live, and live for those who have died. Regardless, we must never lose sight of the intrinsic value of all that surrounds us. Burning Spice very much did. Underneath his bitterness and anger and (not unfounded, to be fair) lamentation for the unstoppable cycle of life and death is a deep-rooted selfishness and fundamental lack of understanding and appreciation for life and other people. In the face of despair, he gave in and chose evil. He was and is wrong for doing so, regardless of why he did it. He could've stepped down. He could've just admitted he didn't have what it took to be the Herald of Change. Hell, if he really hates being alive so much, he would've committed suicide a LONG time ago. But he never did any of that; instead he chose to inflict an equal or greater suffering on everything and everyone else, even the undeserving. And for that he MUST pay. And Golden Cheese, with her personality and her experiences and the wisdom she came to attain when faced with the exact same despair as Burning Spice, is exactly the right person to make him do that

[naggascradle]

[bulbabutt]

Raphaella Meets His Match

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

getting on the same page

[mediumgayitalian]

When Cecil was little, peppermint meant coming in from the cold.

It meant warmth, it meant hot chocolate, it meant his mother was home early. He liked peppermint. He liked it especially in the candy canes he would lift around Christmas, slipped into his coatsleeves at a busy department store, devoured on the bus home as his mother snorted at him.

"I'm pretty sure they arrest thieving seven-year-olds here, you know. We don't have money for bail. You're staying there."

Peppermint was fine. He didn't think of it often.

On a Tuesday in July, when he was nine -- he remembers because Tuesday was when the camp store used to restock -- he hopped up the rickety steps of the brightest cabin in camp, picked up the three packages of candy that had fallen out of his bulging pockets, and knocked on the door.

"Will?" he called, peering through the darkened screen. "Are you here? You weren't at our spot."

Cecil does not actually remember how long it took for someone to come to the door. He remembers it took some time, because taking any time at all was unusually. He didn't usually have to knock. Even now, it is odd for the Apollo cabin door to be shut, especially in the daylight hours.

Eventually, there were footsteps. A tall, barefoot woman stepped out, swinging the creaky door closed gently behind her. A wave a peppermint followed her out, making Cecil's eyes water.

"Cecil," she said, smiling warmly. "Hey, kiddo."

Cecil rocked on his heels. "Hey, Cass." He glanced around her. "Where's Will."

"Oh. Um..." Cass turned back to face the door, biting her lip. In her silence, Cecil heard faint crying. "Come sit with me a second, okay?"

The oldest Apollo daughter sat delicately on the top porch step, tucking her long hair out from under her thighs. She patted the spot next to her, and after a moment -- staring at the door, straining to hear -- Cecil sat.

"Will," she said, after a moment, "is...sick."

Cecil frowned. "I thought you guys didn't get sick."

"We don't. Kind of."

Cecil waited. Cass didn't notice, looking out onto the common. He worried at her lower lip, fingers wrapping around her hair.

"He's not that kind of sick."

"What kind of sick?"

"You ever had a headache?"

"Yeah."

Cass traced a line in the woodgrain beneath them. "It's like that. A little."

"Well, can't you heal it? We're supposed to go in the woods today. Luke said he'll teach us how to trap a myrmeke."

"That's...no you're not. Tell him I said you two are absolutely not allowed to do that."

Cecil crossed his fingers. "Uh-huh. Can he come play soon?"

"...No, Cecil. He'll be sick for a while." She turned to face him, resting her chin on her hands. She smiled, slightly, but her dark eyes were round and wet. "Will gets something called migraines. It's like...um, imagine you're in the ampitheatre, doing sword practice. And then suddenly, boom! You're by yourself! And you're surrounded by monsters, but they're invisible. What are you going to do?"

Cecil pondered. That was a new one. Usually he imagined he's being attacked by Connor and Travis who have been cloned a million times and turned evil.

"Uh...start swinging?"

Cass smiled. "Right. Would make a pretty big mess of the ampitheatre, huh?"

"Probably."

"A little chaotic?"

"Duh."

"Hm." A cry came from the cabin again. That time, it was loud enough for both of them to hear it, even through the soundproofed walls. Cecil's stomach turned. "Sometimes, Will's brain thinks there's something wrong with it. But it doesn't know what. So it starts thrashing around, trying to get rid of whatever's hurting him, but it just kind of...makes things worse."

"So...his brain hurts?"

"Yes. It hurts so much that it makes his stomach hurt, and his skin, and even the lights hurt him a little."

The weird feeling in Cecil's stomach got worse. He turned toward the door, waiting, and after a few minutes, there was another cry, small and sad and hurt, like the one time he was walking home from school with his mom and they passed a puppy that had been left all by itself in an alley, barking for its mama. Cecil had cried the whole way home. He turned back to Cass, eyes burning.

"Oh."

"Yeah." Cass reached over and slid a hand over his shoulder, pulling him into her side. He stayed there, for a minute, hiding in her soft t-shirt. "It sucks, kiddo. I wish he could come play."

"When will he be better?"

Cecil pulled away, swiping quickly at his eyes. Cass let him, watching with soft eyes.

"Tomorrow morning, probably. Lee made him a salve with peppermint oil, and sometimes that helps. If he can sleep it off he might even be better by dinner." Cass glanced back at the screen. "I doubt it, though. This one is a bad one. You come by tomorrow morning though, okay? Bright and early. I'll tell Luke we need your help, he'll let you off your chores."

Cecil brightened. "Really? Can you tell him to give them to Connor instead?"

Cass snorted. "Don't push it, kid."

"Okay, okay." Cecil stood at her gentle push, climbing down the stairs and lingering on the crunchy grass. He fiddled under her raised eyebrows, reaching into his pockets. "Um, can you give him these? For when his stomach stops hurting."

He tossed up a pink package. Cass caught it, turning it over to read the label. She smiled.

"You steal these?"

"Yes."

"Nice." She tucked the Twizzlers in her pocket, grinning. "I won't tell, but Michael is still mad that you stole his comic books last week, si you better get lost before he sees 'cause he'll snitch. Bye, Cecil."

Cecil remembered the rage in Michael's eye and stepped quickly backwards.

"Bye, Cass."

She turned back up the stairs. The smell of peppermint was stronger.

It smelled a little less warm, this time.

-- -- --

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