#I am insane 👍

[distant-screaming]

palmnueng is LITERALLY 'I love you because of your flaws, not despite them' and to me that is so so insane. they see each other as worthy of love and that in turn makes them so much more likely to love themselves because in the other's eyes, they're the one who is loved. that is so truly deeply insane. imagine loving someone so hard you start loving yourself.

also. they're inverses of each other in so many ways and their love works the same - to palm, it is the only thing he does completely unrestrained. but to nueng, his love for palm is the only thing that's really capable of keeping him grounded. anyway I want to cry

[15hammerheadsharks]

I want him so bad

[yudol-skorbi]

and what if i go insane

[pissditching]

La Sparkledog Capitolina

[roseverdict]

hhuuuuuououuoouoouhhgh music theory nerd relistening to the score from wanted and recognizing Motifs

do you see it

[beetleboyy]

bisexual flag made out of gerard pictures from the festival today

[codecicle]

shes the only one in this god damn office that does any work but no-one appreciates her

had to put my phone down and silently scream in agony for a solid 30 seconds. SECRETARYCICLE WHAT I WOULD GIIIVVVEEEEEEEEEEEE FOR YOU

[joshbruh10x]

Barely surviving high school

Anyways unhinged Fazcule bc YOU CAN'T CONTROL WHAT I DRAW TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT

[cruyuu]

How funny it is—

Just how well Sukuna knows him—

And knows what'll keep him alive.

Does Sukuna want him dead or is it the opposite really? Like, come on now 😭 Taking over Megumi right after he told Yuuji to save him? Right after Yuuji proudly states that he can rest easily after he is annihilated?

For someone claiming that he cannot and doesn't want to understand others, he really does (unknowingly) understand what makes Yuuji so Yuuji. His selflessness, his love for others, his empathy, and do I have to remind you that it's literally everything he never felt? Crazy, really.

(Ofc you could argue this all comes from the fact that he dwelled within him but still 🤷‍♀️)

Not only did Sukuna take Megumi away from Yuuji, but he also took away Gojo. Yes, the very two people featured in the panel above who Yuuji is thanking. He did it only to crush his spirit even further. But Yuuji still fights. He still stubbornly keeps persisting and its both frustrating and confusing to him because when guilt should be crushing him and making him actually want to die (like Megumi, for example), he still pushes forwards and he still lives.

Perhaps they are alike, after all. Alike in their differences. Both push against the odds no matter what the world throws at them. Hell, Sukuna wasn't meant to be born yet tore his way out for himself, eating and killing others and Yuuji isn't meant to live yet is constantly protected by others and in turn protects and saves others.

Parallels but in the total opposite way.

[sciderman]

Which do you prefer, Spideypool or Poolverine?

glances at my decade-long running spider-man and deadpool blog

...hm. good question. i'll have to think about th

[mblue-art]

I just saw that post of yours where Lust, where he could learn your native language and tell you sweet words. And I'm sure he would do that!!! But if you say something to Cross in your native language, this poor boy will be very confused. "What did you just say? What does it mean?" Imagine his blushy face when you tell him what it really means.

( /)/////(\;; lust is the sweetest,, , 💜💙 he would,, thank u anons for making me believe that,, will rotate those thoughts in my head kjnsdfkfd///<333 )

confused cro below

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 16

As the human and I did not share any duties during this particular cycle, I decided now might be a fitting time to inform the Vitrichl about the aforementioned book, which could possibly grant a further insight into Terrans.

Despite the quite serious circumstances we are currently in, I was able to secure a time frame to initiate a conversation regarding this topic.

I repeated the information V-7 had been able to conjure on this as well as other stories and reports on humans.

"There seems to be one…obstacle, though: The book‘s last documented location is in system Skė-51-33, which does not seem to be even remotely near our current route.", I eludicated.

The Vitrichl seemed to consider the information given, keeping in mind the reason the SIIR Noxos usually avoids this particular system: its unfriendly and occasionally aggressive nature.

Concluding, I was able to convince the Vitrichl through the benefits this book could provide in the task of studying humans, causing the Vitrichl to eludicate that changing the route was currently not possible, but as soon as the chance was offered to us, we would make a short detour through this system to retrieve said book, given that the book was still located there.

In the meantime, I was tasked with retrieving as much possible information on this particular and other sources about humans.

Our arrival on Fendaar is imminent, as we are nearing the planet‘s atmosphere. Further reports will follow.

[burgycreeper405-blog]

a Microphone and a Knife hugging on your dash board

@maxphilippa

[to-rise-above-monsters]

dear bertholdt.

Summary: Reiner left his overcoat in preparation for a meeting and asked Annie to get it from his room. Begrudgingly, she agreed. Though she immediately regrets it when a box of letters falls from the top shelf. Maybe regret isn’t all there is. She found something more.

-

CW: angst, canon compliant (so major characters death,, Bertholdt is dead<3), rba centric, can be read as romantic or platonic reibert but reibert nonetheless

Takes place post-timeskip (the second one, post-war), a few years into settling into ambassador life.

Apologies for any ooc, I don’t think I’ve ever written a fic in Annie’s perspective/focus,, I also haven’t written on her before and also haven’t written and posted in general for forever

(This was meant to be a comic and is so clear in my mind but I don’t have the time nor talent to execute it 😔)

Happy Birthday Bertholdt can’t believe ur dead ♥️

-

Reiner told her to get his coat. What that asshole didn’t tell her was how ridiculously high his coat hangers were. It shouldn’t have loomed over her the way it did. It was almost taunting, mocking her with its impossible height. They had probably raised Reiner’s closet bar for his big, hulking self and possibly lowered hers as some sort of unspoken courtesy. Annie sighed deeply, already regretting being here. Sure, tell the short girl to get your big ass coat from your tall ass closet. Embarrassingly, she jumped; she jumped a few times. If a glare could kill, there'd be holes burnt into the pockets.

Fuck off.

The stupid coat was simply out of reach. She could usually manage by grabbing the shoulder and lifting it from there but even then she couldn’t manage. She kicked the closet door in frustration, hard enough to make it rattle, and looked around for reinforcements. Somewhere nearby had to be a stool or something, anything, to make this easier. 

She found a tall chair and dragged it over with a bit more force than necessary. The legs scraped against the floor and that sound annoyed her even more. 

Finally, she lined it up, climbed up with a huff, and snatched the coat off the hanger in one triumphant, final fuck you. But as she jumped off the chair with her prize, she heard something else fall. A clatter, a shuffle, the distinct sound of things spilling. She grumbled and turned around.

If I have to do one more thing, I’m killing someone.

She cringed when her eyes fell onto the mess. Her jumping and kicking and overall exasperation now had a bunch of shit spilled on the floor from the top shelf of the tall closet. An old box, the size and look of a shoe box, had lost its lid and scattered papers everywhere. She at first started to snatch them up without discretion, just trying to stuff them back in. But a name caught her eyes.

Bertholdt.

Her fingers froze. She didn’t want to snoop. She would have killed anyone who went through her stuff like this. She tried to cast out the memory of seeing the name. She quickly tried to collect them all and put the box, along with this moment, far back into the closet. But there it was again, unmistakable.

Bertholdt.

Something came over her. An overwhelming wave, pulling her under before she could even name it. It felt so sudden, so heavy, all-consuming. She held the pages in her hands, her grip tightening unconsciously. 

The small, trembling pool she had collected seemed insignificant against the sheer ocean of papers spilled out before her. They spread across the floor like a map of emotions she wasn’t sure she wanted to navigate. And each one… each one bore the same familiar name.

Dear Bertholdt,

Her chest tightened, an ache spreading in places she thought she’d long since numbed. With a breath, she carefully placed them in the box one by one. It blurred past her, the same line repeated over and over. Her eyes couldn’t help but snag on the same arrangement of letters, the same handwriting. There were a hundred, maybe even more, all addressed… and dated. She paused.  

They had an order. 

Written at the top of each of them was a date. Everything was spilled all over the floor and each one was supposed to be neatly tucked away in order. She bit the insides of her cheeks.

Forgive me.

Dates flashed by. She tried to put them in order without reading any of its contents. It felt impossible, especially when there were letters that seemed to be multiple pages long. She tried to group them to the best of her abilities, organizing them by date and putting them in piles face down when she found the correct order. But words blurred past, recognizable phrases, handwriting that got shakier, years and years and years, consistent dating on every one.

“I miss you.” “I’m sorry.” “If I could go back…” “I wish you were here.” “I can’t forgive myself.” “You deserved better.”

Her breath hitched, the edges of the pages almost cutting into her fingers as she clutched them tighter. She tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat, but it only grew heavier with every second she spent kneeling there, surrounded by years of unspoken… emotions; emotions she never knew she had.

When did I start crying?

A tear fell from her cheek and nearly hit the precious paper. An aching feeling had creeped into her body. Emotions she never really thought were there seemed to spill. She couldn’t name it. It felt like a sudden burn in her nose, the need to swallow a bitter taste, eyes blurring. She was drowning. 

30.12.854

The letter she held was dated shakily at the top. She’d seen that same date come up again and again. For a moment, she tried to remember if maybe New Years or any holiday around that time meant something to them; as warriors, they didn’t really celebrate holidays, let alone religion. 

She took a breath and put it in the 854 pile. She looked at the stack. 854. That would have been… that would have been the year of the rumbling. It would have been the year everything changed. 

And he never got to see it.

She looked at all of the piles she’d now made, how each represented a year. She tried to push any judgements or perceptions away from her mind. But some years piled higher than others. Three piles in particular. She gathered the final loose letters. 

Her mind drifted to her time in the crystal. The silence had been maddening, a suffocating void she couldn’t escape. She had been awake in that void, terrifyingly, agonizingly awake. The only light that had ever pierced through the endless dark had been Armin’s voice, Hitch’s chatter. Their persistence had saved her, kept her tethered to something beyond the emptiness. But it always puzzled her why they did it in the first place.

I know.

She placed the final letter. The paper felt different; crinkled and messy, rough and smeared. 30.12.850; old, the oldest one. She finally gathered all of them, stacking them neatly away in the box.  She stared at the box in front of her, now neatly packed, the letters arranged in quiet, solemn order. The shoebox felt heavier than it had any right to be. There was only paper within it. Something else weighed it down. 

I know.

She exited the room quietly, holding the coat tenderly in her hands. She gave it to him when they met in town without a single complaint. She never spoke about what she had found to Reiner or anyone else for that matter. 

Their now shared secret lay in a small box that once held shoes for a warrior.

[hanzajesthanza]

god we need to bring crackfic back. or just short and idiotic ideas that wouldn’t happen but would be funny to read

[maxdurden]

okay i've started watching fantasy high: junior year and it's . So Good so far. but i just have to take a moment to gush about how exciting riz is as aro rep???

like this is junior year, all his friends are applying to colleges, and he wants to make sure they stick together. i really hope they develop this further (and i'm kinda sure they will, given the way they've handled riz's romantic orientation in seasons past) but already this is leagues above any aro rep i've ever seen?? like yeah, a really common fear for aro folks is that their friends will get into relationships and move on.

amatonormativity kind of demands that people prioritize romantic relationships, and also sets getting married as an actual step someone has to take to fully grow up. and, ofc, once people are married it's the expectation that they spend most of their time with their partner. and i've had aro friends who have said that this societal expectation is so upsetting and anxiety inducing, because it essentially means that eventually they'll be left behind by friends as they get married and move onto the next arbitrary developmental stage of life. and the fact that riz is already grappling with that fear makes him feel so fucking real. he's not just a guy who happens to be aro, his aromanticism affects his fears and priorities, etc.

which is so real!! being aro and/or ace absolutely separates you from some huge societal assumptions many people take for granted and it feels refreshing to see people approach an aro character with that understanding