#You Make This Place Home

[mochasucculent]

Was looking at refs and since Viktor has two different leg braces I was wondering, do we think he wears them simultaneously?? The refs don't perfectly line up perspective-wise so it's hard to tell but parts of the one he wears during the Hexcore scenes look like they could maybe line up with the brace that he wears over his clothes, but also some parts really don't and look like they'd be super uncomfy. Also HOW does he take these on and off. Experts weigh in

[wiisagi-maiingan]

I love tornado survival guides. "Shelter in a basement or interior room without any windows. But if you're in a mobile home, just fucking die I guess lol"

[sciderman]

well - webtoons is over, gang

[buttercupbuck]

"you know, my therapist says everyone needs a safe space, a place where you can fully be yourself"

[image description: 2 large gifs of evan buckley and eddie diaz from 9-1-1.

gif 1: from season 6 episode 12. in the diaz home, eddie (out of frame) watches buck sleep on his couch, his arm draped across the sofa.

gif 2: from season 7 episode 5. at buck's apartment, the camera pans as eddie, holding his phone, turns to face buck as buck rounds the corner of his kitchen island.

/end ID]

[lazer-exe]

seán logging onto tumblr for the first time in 5 years, posting twice, and then immediately going silent again is the funniest thing ever

i KNOW he is GIGGLING to himself rn

[hajihiko]

Sobriety crew gets no mercy from drunk shenanigans

[s0fter-sin]

something people just don’t think about is how often chronically ill and disabled people just don’t have access to good food. not healthy food, good food; well made, tasty meals that don’t come from a jar or a freezer. how many of us are housebound or can’t drive? delivery services only offer within certain distances, if you live outside a city they aren’t an option. many people don’t have the energy or ability to cook for themselves if they have the skill to begin with. many certainly don’t have the ability to learn how. it’s something that goes completely unnoticed, just the opportunity to have a good meal and how much that wears you down

[bamsara]

I love Arson he's my favorite heater but I should really get a cheap laptop one day so I can leave the house to write because the Noise. Is . Too Much. I need to go write in the forest

[benevolenterrancy]

May your hardened heart be woken By the soft and distant song Of all you left here unspoken All the shards we keep stepping on - Take this body home Take this body home Call the wind, and let her know Take this life outgrown Take this broken soul Call the stars, call them all And take it high, take it far, take it home

[demonstars]

FL/LA shift, many dnf thoughts (dream, nov. 2023—george, feb. 2025)

[shorthaltsjester]

the mighty nein - critical role

this is a place where i don't feel alone. this is a place where i feel at home.

[naggascradle]

[basalting]

"I used to hate it here, y'know, even after I got the suit and became Robin. I'd trail after Bruce, watching him get beaten up and spat on. Back in those days people were either scared of him or they hated him. It's not like how it is now.

"So yeah, I'd see him put so much of himself. So much time, and effort, and blood, into helping these.... small, petty people in this disgusting stinking city. and I'd wonder... What's the point?

"Even when I was helping him do it! And I did love helping him, and I liked helping people, but I was so angry. Angry at Bruce and Alfred, Zucco and Haly, the world, my parents. Especially my parents, for dying. For leaving me. For not being smart or skilled or lucky enough to survive. For making me outlive them.

"I'd be running around, all flash and noise, so it was easier for B to lurk in the shadows and the whole time I'm wondering, 'What's the point?'"

"And what did you decide?"

"Hmm... I decided that they matter. All of them. The small-time crooks jacking cars to keep a roof over their head, the junkies who'd scream at us for putting their dealers away, the people who sneered at us and the ones who flinched away.

"They all matter. Even when they hate us. Especially when they hate us really, because they're just like us. They're all sad, hurting people. And maybe if there'd been a Batman and Robin when Zucco was a kid he wouldn't have turned out the way he did. And maybe by doing what we do I can make sure even one kid doesn't see their parents die the way I did.

"Because it's so easy not to care about people, and so much more rewarding to do it anyway.

"And look, I'm not Bruce. Those boots are too big to fill even if I wanted to. But I understan- understood him, and I've been in your position before. A newcomer to this fucked up, shithole of a city.

"I can't ever replace Bruce, and I'm so sorry you didn't get more time with him. But I'll have your back for as long as you'll let me. And maybe I can show you the things about Gotham he loved while I do it."

"..."

"Damian?"

"That is... acceptable. I would like it. To see what Father found so endearing about this place.”

[fairsweetlonging]

have been in a qijiu/qiyuan mood lately, and i was thinking about an au where shen yuan, upon transmigrating, actually loses his memories. he wakes up and has no idea who he is, where he is, who the man at his bedside is. not a clue. the only thing he has is his muscle memory, his sharp recognition senses (he's experiencing a lot of déjà-vu), and blurry fractions of memories that he can't quite make out.

thing is, the memories of both shen yuan and shen jiu aren't actually gone, they start to intermingle, to mix up, a little sister in princess pajamas beside an older brother wearing dirty rags, a bright screen that displays mountain peaks and glittering caves. he's kind and generous the way someone who has never had to worry about food or money is, but he gets vicious and defensive when someone gets too close. sometimes he says cruel things and doesn't even understand why himself.

neither identity fits anymore, both names right and wrong at the same time. it's just... shen qingqiu.

and while everyone else might adjust to this just fine, yue qingyuan does not. because that is shen jiu, but it isn't, but it has to be, but not always. he gets flashes of his childhood friend when shen qingqiu gets viciously defensive over nothing, when he scowls and scoffs and rolls his eyes when he thinks people can't see, but then he smiles, and laughs, and tilts his head in a way that is completely foreign. he likes beasts. shen jiu never liked beasts. but he loves tanghulu, like shen jiu. sweet sugary things. the first time xiao jiu cuddles up into his hug, he cries.

the way he sometimes clings to yue qingyuan when he has a bad day can't be him, but then he says "qi-ge" exactly like shen jiu would and damn near snarls at anyone who gets too close, and he's aggressively possessive the way he was when they were kids. but then he pulls away and apologizes, like shen jiu would never do.

and he never demands anything, scrubbed clean from roughness and filth and selfish want, will act perfect and smiling and pleasant, never burdensome. like he's completely forgotten where he came from, what he was. like the pampered nobleman's son who could afford to be kind. the only time his old self comes fully back up is when he feels threatened or scared or angry, like a trauma response that kicks in to protect himself. and then yue qingyuan starts to wonder if maybe it is. maybe the shen jiu he knows was only ever fear and self-preservation, and the one he is now is a shen jiu without the chains and shackles and scars.

yue qingyuan doesn't know if he's happy for him, if it's for better or for worse. he does know that he feels protective and responsible for this new version xiao jiu has become.

meanwhile shen qingqiu, even when he regains enough of his memories to realize he was once a different person, doesn't know who he is anymore. both, maybe. or neither. he feels bad for taking away yue qingyuan's friend, but in his heart he can't help but think qi-ge is his brother, and no one else's. when he manages the peak he feels like he's taking credit for another's accomplishments, but he remembers suffering for it, he remembers what it took to get there.

[senseearly]

For a moment, imagine yourself in Mithrun's brother shoes.

Your brother - stronger, prettier, more charismatic, but also distrustful and disdainful of everyone especially you - is to be sent to the Canaries. It is the rule, it is the duty of all noble houses. But you know what goes on there, Mithrun knows what happens there. Yet you see him off, bidding a temporary farewell as you do, because someone from the House has to go and it won't be definitely you. Mithrun knows this, you know this. And you wonder, very briefly, if Mithrun hates you now more than he does already.

Your brother - powerful, agile, a good soldier just as he is as an heir, if he could only be an heir - suddenly disappears. The unit he belonged to suddenly disappeared. And you're speechless because - how? why? No one wants to answer you; they will instead try to bring back a body, they promise to you. But that is not what you want. You grieve for your brother. but your own family doesn't grieve with you. Wasn't Mithrun family too?

Then you found out: MIthrun is alive.

Your brother - now weak, despondent, his eyes always looking for something that is not here nor there - is to be sent home where people can take care of him. It is not your first choice, you want him home. But he is - sick. Not quite there. He needs someone who can look after him and you look at yourself - your gait, your constitution - and you know it can't be you. So, you follow the advice of your family and pour out all your resources to find him the best of healers and caretakers. You ask yourself, almost daily, if Mithrun would ever return to who he once was.

Your brother - strong, pretty, uninterested of anything and anyone else aside from what he calls 'the demon' - is now better. He can walk on his own now, eats without throwing up on himself. The color on his skin is back and the scars of his injuries have faded into thick bumps and discolored skin. But he still isn't quite there; still needs help and probably will for the rest of his life. And you can live with that. You can provide that. Just as long as he comes home.

But doesn't. Your brother - now a husk of his former self, and you hate thinking of him that way, but you can't help yourself, the Mithrun you knew is gone - runs straight back to the Canaries. His mission is not over, he says. He doesn't care how long it takes, he says. And you see him off, again, because someone from the House has to go and it still can't be you. Mithrun knows this, you know this, and you can't help but wish, very briefly, if things would've been different if you went instead of him.

[nuclearbleu]

do you even remember the last time the Light of your God touched your skin?