#I mean not really furious

[drastrochris]

Chapter 15: "I mean, sure I love her, but I don't think she loves me back." Chapter 16: "I mean, sure I love him, but I don't think he loves me back." Me: If you idiots don't kiss before chapter thirty, I'm going to be furious.

[crabussy]

IS ANYONE ELSE FEELING KIND TODAY!!! IS ANYONE ELSE FEELING GENEROUS TOWARDS OTHER PEOPLE!!! IS ANYBODY ELSE BEING KIND AND TRYING TO UNDERSTAND EVEN WHEN ITS HARD!!! IS ANYONE ELSE ASSUMING THE BEST OF OTHERS INTENTIONS AND RESPONDING IN KIND!!!! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME

[poibynt]

It makes sense that the HTTYD Vikings wouldn’t know this while they were fighting for their lives against Furious’ forces but….Furious declared war on ALL of humanity right?? Did he just start with the Vikings and the Americas have no fucking clue what might be about to hit them? Is everyone else just chilling or did HTTYD become an alternate history series off screen while dragons stole Visigoth valour and fridged the Roman Empire hundreds of years earlier? Aka were their multiple fronts to the red rage that attacked other human societies or did Furious pile all of his forces on the Vikings? Is this a post apocalypse novel set in America where secretly the rest of the world is totally fine and the Americans don’t know?

[fuckyeahchinesefashion]

chinese guzhuang fashion

[adrift-in-thyme]

One day Sky is gonna absolutely LOSE IT in LU and I can’t wait for it

[petrichorium]

pluvi begging you to expand on gojo not wanting what happened to his mother to happen to you 🙏

warnings: it’s all a dream so nothing is real aside from the flashback stuff but pregnancy as horror, (sewing) needles, implied gore/eye trauma, implied child harm, gojo is messed up yo!!! and its bc of his mama!!!

he dreams about her.

it’s an odd thing, really. gojo isn’t much of a dreamer—not much of a sleeper, all things considered, but it’s difficult not to give in when you drag him to bed and curl up in his arms. the soft rise and fall of your chest, the steady thump of your heart, the sound of your breath; it soothes him into slumber.

and he dreams about her. she was always young. he’s older now than she ever got to be. frail, thin; borderline skeletal, robes hanging from her body like webbing. she sits in a chair facing a window, swathed in moonlight, the silver of her embroidery needle glinting with each stab. her face is veiled. her stomach is swollen with child.

she doesn’t turn to him, but she beckons without noise. his feet take him easily to her, and he kneels at her side as she sets aside the embroidery hoop to let him place his head on her knees.

her hand is cold as it threads through his hair. it’s gentle, at first. then harsher a moment later. she grips firm, tugs him up by those electric white threads, stares down at him through all that elaborate lace.

he imagines she’s weeping beneath it. his mother never wept before him, but she was pretty in the aftermath, eyes puffy and pink and shining. they were a cold kind of loving when they regarded him. she must have been beautiful once, elegant and lithe and willowy, cruel like the heartless sea and sharp like a brilliant diamond, but whatever was there is long gone. he thinks all sons must empty their mothers, bleed them dry from within, because his was always a shell.

she trails her hand down the side of his face, and he turns into the palm and closes his eyes, and she is silent as she sets down her embroidery to lift her veil. she is silent and hollow and eidolic as her fingers brush down his jaw and tilt his head up to look at her.

but it’s your face that he sees when he opens his eyes.

it’s your hand against his cheek, your eyes pink and puffy and pretty, your stomach bulging by his own doing. it’s your fingers that pluck up the needle, still attached to a thread of brilliant cerulean, and raise it to his eye.

his mother never was able to pierce him with that needle. she stopped herself, each and every time, dropping it and tugging him close in shame. she never doted, never was kind, but she never did manage to harm him.

you do. he lets you. it’s only fair. whatever thing is in your stomach can’t be human—whether god or demon what does it matter, at the end of the day—and didn’t he put it in you himself? if his mother never got the satisfaction of spilling his blood, shouldn’t you?

but he wakes just as the tip pierces his iris, and you hold him in your lap, eyes wide with concern and not puffy from weeping, and you hold no child within you. your hands thread through his hair and they’re warm, your lips plush when you bend to press a kiss to his brow.

he turns inward to press his face into your (empty, blissfully vacant) abdomen. the wetness he leaves there, falling from his so very coveted eyes, is colorless.

he thinks it ought to be brilliant crimson.

[rainbowresurrection]

Me & the mutuals peacefully coexisting with wildly different opinions about Star Trek: Unification

[ozonecologne]

.

[c-rowlesblogs]

I’ve been holding back from blogging about a certain important and devastating current multinational conflict, for various reasons, not least of which being that not every conversation needs every voice, much less a foreign one.

But just now on my dash I came upon a post, which I read with my own two human eyeballs, where OP confessed that recently when they received a customer service call from someone inquiring about shipping to Israel, it sent them into such a state of emotional upset that they asked their boss to reply to the customer for them. And… okay. I don’t think this is unreasonable to say, but I guess it needs to be said: if just encountering everyday citizens from a particular country online or in real life, and having to—god forbid—talk to them, about anything, even to answer a simple yes or no question about international shipping, is too much for you to handle emotionally… maybe you’re not actually engaging with international politics in a mature or rational way.

The Israeli government and military are doing terrible things— but it seems that more and more folks on here are letting their anger and heartbreak make them forget that Israelis are just ordinary human people, just like everyone who has ever lived in every country that has ever waged war. You can talk to one of them for thirty seconds about international shipping. I promise.

[quietwingsinthesky]

that’s really the core of lucifer, i suppose. he knows that something horribly, desperately, unspeakably wrong was done to him. and god did that. so. there’s nothing that can be done but to accept it as it is.

[the-eclectic-wonderer]

GWEN INVITED LADY MOWBRAY TO THE OIAR ON HER OWN INITIATIVE???

[augustatheghost]

i don’t know what you guys are all complaining about i love that svu has vaporized olivia from woman on the verge to lady cragen

[camzverse]

i could probably like or even love william afton if he made any fucking sense to me as a character

[skrunksthatwunk]

reread the first 3 volumes of berserk (aka the black swordsman arc) today and started Really paying attention to guts this time and my takeaway is that he is TERRIFIED way more often than i thought. like puck mentions fear in the mix of emotions he's sensing from him but he is truly wide eyed quivering princessmoding his way through a lot of this ordeal

[thedawningofthehour]

Idk if I'll remember to mention this but sometime between the last chapter and the next Bella and Splinter nearly came to blows and Reed had to physically pick Bella up and carry her away before it could devolve into a fistfight.

[northisnotup]

Modern day mdzs is good bc LWJ absolutely would announce his relationship on whatever bare minimum social media he uses for real people after their first official date using the caption

'Me and the bad bitch i pulled by being autistic'