#and i’m capable of making a point

[plumberrypudding]

anyone else feel like “they got that dog in them” is just the most recent appropriation of aa(v)e into ‘internet slang’.

maybe i’m just in more linguistically focused circles than most but this phenomenon seems to me like it’s talked about frequently in the black community online, but it’s completely ignored by people who are otherwise, at least vocally, antiracist.

just take a moment to consider “internet phrases” you use. my brother in christ. got that dog in em. be fucking for real. even just single words. fam. slay. simp. based. bet. blud. bussin. cap. drip. goated. where did these words and phrases come from? do you only use them to be funny, or when you’re obviously not trying to be taken seriously? what does your usage of these words and phrases reflect about (how we view) the sources we take them from?

if you really want to unlearn your racial biases you have to take the time and effort to unpack these kinds of things. just make an effort to be more aware of the language you use and why you use it, day to day.

[randomalistic]

Wait you guys are actually buying Disney products I thought it was a joke

(READ TAGS FOR FULL CONTEXT Sorry it’s long dies

[viperwhispered]

Too Fast

Part 4 of Jamil versus feelings (aka How Not to Be Swept Under, aka the Too Much series). Let's see how Jamil's plan of action pans out. Part 1, part 2, part 3.

Jamil had a plan.

He already knew he could make you smile, even laugh. That you sought out his company - and not just to sample his cooking (or Kalim’s generosity). Like that time when Jamil had helped you with your homework - considering how little you needed the help, it seemed to have been an excuse on both your sides to just spend time with each other.

Jamil knew the foods that would bring that delighted sparkle to your eye, knew when to step in before you were overwhelmed. You often shared any news with Jamil, filling him in the little happenings of your life - and had gotten him to do the same with you, too. He’d listened to you reminisce about your childhood and your home, even knew a few embarrassing secrets you’d revealed over the course of your conversations.

In short, it was clear that you had some degree of fondness for him.

However, Jamil had yet to ascertain the exact nature of how you felt about him.

But he was certain he could pull it out of you. Nudge you to act, to talk, so that he could gather those signs to tell him if you were open for more.

He’d see if you truly didn’t speak to others the same way you did to him. If you truly didn’t give others that look which always made things so difficult for him.

There had been those times when you had blushed in Jamil’s presence. You’d flustered, stuttered, restless fingers showing your nervousness.

But Jamil needed to make sure if it was because of him, or just the situations you’d been in.

Jamil had recognized the things you were doing, how you kept on getting closer to him.

But he needed to know if it all was enough for what he wanted with you.

And if not… Well. Perhaps there was something to be done about that. Given enough time, enough attention…

He could be a listening ear, a supporting presence, get to know you further, if he needed to.

Yes, he wanted you to be his sooner rather than later, but if he had to wait and work for it, he would.

After all, it was not like him to ruin such things with haste.

When Jamil’s phone buzzed, he pulled it out without even thinking about it.

Before, he always dreaded it, his phone typically only coming to life when Kalim needed something or there was another crisis to deal with.

Yet, nowadays, there was always the hope of it being you.

Jamil hefted his gym bag over his shoulder and unlocked his phone. The basketball club had run late today, and he needed to hurry back to Scarabia - but not before checking the message.

Thankfully, you were indeed the sender.

Hey, wanna go out to the town sometime? Cater told me there’s a nice cafe that opened recently.

Another message popped in before Jamil could finish reading the first.

Like, go out as a date.

The phone slipped from Jamil’s grip, landing on the locker room bench with a thud.

“Hey, Jamil, what’s got you so clumsy?” Ace said, peering at Jamil with a teasing grin.

Jamil cursed himself internally, quickly hiding your messages from view. Normally, he would’ve been walking across campus at this time, perhaps at the dorm already, rather than under the watchful eyes of his clubmates.

But, of course, not today.

“Just fumbled,” Jamil said, struggling to school his expression back to neutral.

“You sure about that? You’re looking awfully flustered,” Ace snickered.

“Ooo, is Sea Snake getting some exciting messages?” Floyd asked, looming closer.

Jamil gave both of them a sharp glare - the effect perhaps hampered by his flushed complexion. He really did not need Floyd and Ace’s antics on top of this bombshell right now.

“Must be the effects of the practice,” Jamil said with a tone of finality.

Not that that seemed to deter the two, now that they’d gotten a taste of blood in the water.

Rather than bickering with them further Jamil grabbed his things and hurried off. He almost expected Floyd to chase after him, even half-dressed as Floyd still was, but thankfully the eel did not seem to be in that much of an inquisitive mood today.

Small blessings.

Jamil was barely aware of his surroundings as he walked, his heart beating a more frantic rhythm than it had during the practice.

How was he supposed to respond to you?

He had not even done anything as he planned, and you already…

Jamil shook his head, tried to keep himself together despite the turmoil your little messages had thrown him into.

Sure, he had intended to push you to act, to reveal the nature of your feelings.

Yet that had left Jamil woefully unprepared for this.

Jamil stared at his phone again, barely remembering to blink or breathe, nearly colliding head-first with some other students.

Finally, he typed out a message.

Are you serious?

Your reply was almost immediate.

Yes

Jamil fidgeted with the strings of his hood, watching the little bubble that told him you were still typing.

Sorry for being a coward and not asking in person.

If you don't feel the same way we can just pretend this never happened.

Oh how Jamil wished he could see your expression right now, could talk to you in person, get to the bottom of this.

Or would it be better to respond to you in text, without worries of stumbling over his words, or getting caught in your eyes like a deer in headlights?

Jamil started writing a reply, frowned and erased it, began to compose another.

He took a deep breath, briefly lifting his eyes from the phone to check where he was going.

What did he have planned for today, anyway? How much time could he clear for you?

Mind abuzz with plans, Jamil tried again.

Can I come over later? I’ll bring something to eat.

I’d rather talk this over in private first, if that’s okay with you.

A few more messages, setting the time, assuring you that he was not opposed to your proposal. Then Jamil shoved the phone into his pocket, reviewing his options.

He’d make something quick for Kalim’s dinner while preparing something to share with you. (What could he make with the time and ingredients he had that you really liked? What about dessert? He knew how much you enjoyed sweets, after all.)

Kalim had no homework deadlines or quizzes tomorrow, and Jamil’s own schoolwork schedule had room for adjustment, as well. They could catch up later. (He’d have to make sure he looked impeccable. Would flowers be too much? Would he have the time to visit Sam’s for them?)

Jamil might have to get up a little early tomorrow for a few things, but he’d deal with that tomorrow. (What if you’d let him stay late? How close would you let him tonight? Would you let him hold you? Maybe even kiss you?)

When Jamil realized that he was standing in front of Sam’s shop instead of the mirror to Scarabia, he simply stared at the storefront for a moment, uncomprehending.

Then Jamil shook his head, frowning.

He’d have to focus, keep his mind on target. He couldn’t afford to mess this up.

Yet, despite his best efforts, Jamil salted the food twice, having to scramble to fix the flavor. When he left Scarabia he nearly left behind the small package he’d picked up at Sam’s, forced to turn back to retrieve it.

And when he walked over to your dorm, Jamil had to consciously tell himself to slow down, lest he’d appear too frazzled by the time he made it.

Mentally, Jamil berated himself. Get a grip! After everything Kalim has thrown your way, you can definitely handle this.

Yet, Jamil still had to steel himself before he rapped on your door.

Jamil’s greeting nearly caught in his throat when he saw you.

He could see the effort you’d put in, dressing up a little, yet more than that it was all those emotions swirling on your features that took his breath away. The nervous excitement which had you fidget in place, the radiance in your smile, the way your eyes seemed to drink him in…

Jamil cleared his throat, determined to not drown in you.

“Thank you for accepting me on such short notice,” Jamil said, handing you a small, neatly wrapped box.

With a thrilling sense of satisfaction Jamil noted the way your eyes widened, how your voice wavered when you invited him in. How you smiled when you found out what he had picked out for you, the gift clearly finding its mark.

Still, you were both stepping around each other, following the scripts of a regular visit when this felt like anything but.

Jamil took out the food he’d made, insisted he’d help you with setting the table despite your protests.

It was an awkward dance, both of you trying to regain your footing.

“I just… feel like I have to say it,” you finally said as you were setting out the food. “That I like you. A lot. So…”

The way you spoke, pouring out your feelings, hesitant and nervous as you were…

Yes, Jamil had wanted to talk this over in person, had wanted to see and hear you say it. Still, now he had just as much trouble meeting your eyes as you had, both of you busying yourselves with the tableware.

You were so nervous, and Jamil felt the urge to pull you close and chase away all your worries.

But he would not push.

Not when he had his hands full keeping his own self under control.

A part of him couldn’t help but feel like he’d deceived you, somehow, for you to hold him in such regard.

And when the silence lingered… What could he even say?

Jamil had thought of it, sure, imagined how you’d react to his words… But at this moment nothing would rise to his tongue, all the carefully picked words gone from his mind.

Jamil took your hand, holding it in between both of his. He spoke your name, oh so softly, his voice cracking under the weight of it.

Hearing himself made Jamil cringe, yet he pushed on.

“I’m… I am glad to know we both want the same. That we feel the same.”

For a brief moment, Jamil hesitated. Then he raised your hand to his lips, softly kissing your knuckles. His eyes flicked to yours, full of those feelings that threatened to sweep him under.

Just him being here with you like this… It told you enough, didn’t it?

Your blush certainly seemed to suggest so.

Jamil would make sure to cause your cheeks to burn brighter. Later.

Once his own face stopped feeling like a hot plate under the sun.

* * *

Later, you sat side by side on the couch, Jamil’s arm wrapped around your shoulders and your head resting against him.

You’d hardly stopped smiling the whole evening, and Jamil could feel the hurt in his own cheeks. 

It was strange, giving into those urges Jamil had been doing his best to hold back all this time.

Still, he had to admit that it was easier trying to move with the current rather than fighting against it.

Yes, the looks you gave him were still overwhelming, your words - and touch - sending his heart aflutter almost painfully.

When you sang his praises, looking at him like your happiness depended on him… It really was just a tidal wave, one far too large for Jamil to withstand.

Yet, finally, Jamil was beginning to allow himself to enjoy it all.

These things - your sweetness, your warmth - were only for him, after all. A heady thought, something that made him greedy for even more despite the overwhelming nature of it all.

Of course, Jamil still didn’t want to overstep.

Truthfully, he himself wasn’t ready for some of the scenarios tugging at the back of his mind.

With the wisdom of hindsight it seemed that you had always been ahead of Jamil, more aware of your feelings than he was of his.

Perhaps even more aware of his feelings than Jamil had been, considering how you’d pursued him - because that was what you had been doing, all this time.

Even if Jamil himself had been too busy contending with his own thoughts to truly see it.

Still, it was difficult even for Jamil to worry about such things with your warmth pressed against his side. Jamil played with your hair, let himself just soak up your presence.

And in that sweet moment Jamil finally stopped fighting, at least for a moment. He let go of his plans, his resistance, and allowed himself to be swept up by you.

Indeed, it hardly felt like he had a choice in the matter.

ETA: you can find the final / 5th part of this series here. This sure stayed in my drafts longer than I thought it would, but here we are. There’s still one more part coming and then we’ll be reaching the end of this particular journey. If you'd like to be tagged in my future works, do let me know! Jamil: alright I need to make sure they want to be with me and then I can move forward Reader: I’ve been trying to get with you for a while now and I can’t wait any longer or Jamil: I gotta gain control over this situation Reader: surprise :)

[steveyockey]

Some would rebut that “Oppenheimer,” being a Hollywood blockbuster with serious global reach (whether it will play Japanese theaters remains uncertain), will be many audiences’ only exposure to the events in question and thus might “create a limit on public consciousness and concern,” as the poet, writer and professor Brandon Shimoda told The Times. A corollary of this argument: The crimes committed against the people of Hiroshima and Nagasaki were so unspeakable, so outsized in their impact, that Oppenheimer’s perspective does and should dwindle into insignificance by comparison. For Nolan to focus so exclusively on an American physicist’s story, some insist, ultimately diminishes history and humanity, even as it reinforces the Hollywood hegemony of the great-man biopic and of white men’s narratives in general.

I get those complaints. I also think they betray an inherent disrespect for the audience’s intelligence and curiosity, as well as a fundamental misunderstanding of how movies operate. It’s telling that few of these criticisms of perspective were leveled at “American Prometheus” when it was published in 2005, that no one begrudged Bird and Sherwin for offering a meticulously researched, morally ambivalent portrait of their subject’s life and consigning the destruction of two Japanese cities to a few pages. That’s because books are books, the argument goes, and movies are movies — and this perceived difference, it must be said, reveals a pernicious double standard.

Because they seldom achieve the narrative penetration and richness of detail of, say, a 700-page biography, movies, especially those about history, often are hailed as achievements of breadth over depth, emotion over intellect. They are assumed to be fundamentally shallow experiences, distillations of real life rather than sharply angled explorations of it, propelled by broad brushstrokes and easy expository shortcuts, and beholden to the audience’s presumably voracious appetite for thrilling, traumatizing spectacle. And because movies offer a visual immediacy and narrative immersion that books don’t, they are expected to be sweeping if not omniscient in their narrative scope, to reach for a comprehensive, even definitive vantage.

Movies that attempt something different, that recognize that less can indeed be more, are thus easily taken to task. “It’s so subjective!” and “It omits a crucial P.O.V.!” are assumed to be substantive criticisms rather than essentially value-neutral statements. We are sometimes told, in matters of art and storytelling, that depiction is not endorsement; we are not reminded nearly as often that omission is not erasure. But because viewers of course cannot be trusted to know any history or muster any empathy on their own — and if anything unites those who criticize “Oppenheimer” on representational grounds, it’s their reflexive assumption of the audience’s stupidity — anything that isn’t explicitly shown onscreen is denigrated as a dodge or an oversight, rather than a carefully considered decision.

A film like “Oppenheimer” offers a welcome challenge to these assumptions. Like nearly all Nolan’s movies, from “Memento” to “Dunkirk,” it’s a crafty exercise in radical subjectivity and narrative misdirection, in which the most significant subjects — lost memories, lost time, lost loves — often are invisible and all the more powerful for it. We can certainly imagine a version of “Oppenheimer” that tossed in a few startling but desultory minutes of Japanese destruction footage. Such a version might have flirted with kitsch, but it might well have satisfied the representational completists in the audience. It also would have reduced Hiroshima and Nagasaki to a piddling afterthought; Nolan treats them instead as a profound absence, an indictment by silence.

That’s true even in one of the movie’s most powerful and contested sequences. Not long after news of Hiroshima’s destruction arrives, Oppenheimer gives a would-be-triumphant speech to a euphoric Los Alamos crowd, only for his words to turn to dust in his mouth. For a moment, Nolan abandons realism altogether — but not, crucially, Oppenheimer’s perspective — to embrace a hallucinatory horror-movie expressionism. A piercing scream erupts in the crowd; a woman’s face crumples and flutters, like a paper mask about to disintegrate. The crowd is there and then suddenly, with much sonic rumbling, image blurring and an obliterating flash of white light, it is not.

For “Oppenheimer’s” detractors, this sequence constitutes its most grievous act of erasure: Even in the movie’s one evocation of nuclear disaster, the true victims have been obscured and whitewashed. The absence of Japanese faces and bodies in these visions is indeed striking. It’s also consistent with Nolan’s strict representational parameters, and it produces a tension, even a contradiction, that the movie wants us to recognize and wrestle with. Is Oppenheimer trying (and failing) to imagine the hundreds of thousands of Japanese civilians murdered by the weapon he devised? Or is he envisioning some hypothetical doomsday scenario still to come?

I think the answer is a blur of both, and also something more: In this moment, one of the movie’s most abstract, Nolan advances a longer view of his protagonist’s history and his future. Oppenheimer’s blindness to Japanese victims and survivors foreshadows his own stubborn inability to confront the consequences of his actions in years to come. He will speak out against nuclear weaponry, but he will never apologize for the atomic bombings of Japan — not even when he visits Tokyo and Osaka in 1960 and is questioned by a reporter about his perspective now. “I do not think coming to Japan changed my sense of anguish about my part in this whole piece of history,” he will respond. “Nor has it fully made me regret my responsibility for the technical success of the enterprise.”

Talk about compartmentalization. That episode, by the way, doesn’t find its way into “Oppenheimer,” which knows better than to offer itself up as the last word on anything. To the end, Nolan trusts us to seek out and think about history for ourselves. If we elect not to, that’s on us.

[dykedvonte]

love seeing your takes on mouthwashing and how sane they are. everything's so black or white. I like how you acknowledge curlys abuse under jimmy (which I honestly didn't quite notice when I first watched a playthrough. should rewatch w this in mind) and how that very much doesn't "forgive" his inaction towards Anya and Her abuse under jimmy. I think what happens to him despite all his issues (bc he clearly wasn't OK 😊✌🏼) is very much karmic. I really did hurt huh

I hate the take that what happened to him is karmic as becoming disabled and being tortured is like not in any way an equal consequence for not taking more action against Jimmy. It is a consequence as is the whole game for everyone but it’s one that is very much established as being undeserved and extreme as everyone else’s but Jimmy’s fate.

Thank you for liking my takes but I also try to point out that this exact sort of framing of the events and what happened to Curly is bad especially if you are gonna factor in his own abuse into the equation of his inaction/ineffective acts. It’s like “saying yeah he deserved the abuse he was already going through to escalate because he didn’t do enough” which is like not a message the game tries to deliver at all. It’s like the game shows that abusers escalate

Karma and punishment are not concepts that I think should be directly tied to Curly’s fate especially since during the game and even in discussion he takes on too many consequences of someone else’s actions. Like this framing is the direct thing I describe taking the discussion away from Jimmy, P.E and the factors that created the environment in the first place.

[sailorsnightmare]

Last post unleashed the angry aroace in me regarding fandom reactions to aroace characters again so now I have to rant about it (as one does).

The canonical aroaceness of characters have always been heavily debated in queer and non-queer communities and it is ALWAYS aroace characters specifically.

For example: When Ryusui Nanami from Dr Stone stated he’s attracted to all people, everyone accepted and respected that he’s canonically Bi.

But when it comes to Senku repeatedly, physically AND verbally expressing his disgust with romance and sex, stating numerous times that he holds no interest in it, ending off the series with NO LOVE INTEREST, it’s suddenly a debate if he’s really aroace or not.

The second a character is aroace, all of a sudden they have to scream “I AM AROACE AND I DO NOT PARTNER AND I AM SEX REPULSED” for people to even fathom that they could be aroace, solely because gay pairings are more palatable.

And even then, tons of people won’t even respect it and will instead do anything they can to excuse dismissing said character’s aroaceness in favor of romance and sex AGAIN because “aroace people can be in romantic and sexual relationships too!”

Sure they can! That isn’t relavent here though, so stop using it as an excuse. When a character in media is explicitly aroace, why would you still go out of your way to force romance/sex into the characters identity? That entirely defeats the purpose of said representation.

If we had enough blatant aroace representation to be able to explore the complexities and varieties of aroace individuals that would be absolutely lovely! All kinds of aroaces deserve to see themselves shown in media we enjoy. But that isn’t the case here given that aroace rep in general is about as frequent as a droplet of rain is a desert during a drought.

Platonic relationships, familial relationships, queer platonic relationships, there are SO many different kinds of love out there that people refuse to explore despite the fact that they’re equally as emotionally impactful and important as romantic or sexual relationships!

What about platonic soulmates? Two friends who are bound to each other no matter the world they’re in?

We’re all familiar with found family, why not explore it more? Blood families even? Close-knit circles of longtime friends?

So many beloved troupes can be depicted and enjoyed in platonic means without erasing a characters aroace identity in favor of another queer one. We all deserve to feel seen in media we enjoy and we all have the freedom to choose how we consume said media, but please keep in mind that behavior like this is harmful.

No queer identity is lesser than another. Allow our community the joy of inclusion and please refrain from constantly coming up with excuses to erase an aroace character’s identity because you wish they were something else. This doesn’t happen nearly as often with other queer characters as it does with aroace ones.

[transkingcobra]

I have a whole ass outline for this idea but it’ll be a miracle if I ever get the brain power to write it so I present to thee:

The healing journey of a Tav with a bear phobia falling in love with Halsin

[possiblyfunny]

Hello again, fellas. (And to whoever is actually interested in looking at my weird little AU-) Sanctuary has been on my mind lately and uhhh, I’d like to introduce you to some new characters!

Meet the Eventide Duo: REI and KAI!

I, like with Aster and Del, have never drawn them before, and because I honestly didn’t have it in me to do two full-body drawings with color and everything, doodling them was the next best thing. I’ve been thinking about these two a lot and just really wanted to get them down as a start. Soooo—this is their first pass and things are subject to change! (Please excuse the messiness-)

Rei (the Red) and Kai (the Blue) come from—okay this is kinda funny now that I’m writing it out—their AU was inspired by an FNF fan song that I heard awhile back. It was something like “Frostbite but Blue.” The person who made the song (I don’t remember their name off the top of my head) said they were going to post the lore, but as far as I know they never did, so my brain kinda took the concept and ran with it—making it into my own story. (Sorry to whoever that was-)

Rei is the fledgling god of the Sun and the Second Coming of Arceus. He ascended to godhood after his untimely death, returning to earth to protect the one he loves. Rei may look like a massive grump, but in reality, he's a ray of sunshine and one of the most warm-hearted and protective people you'll ever meet. Kai is still a Pokémon Trainer, but he’s also Rei's singular devotee. He's honestly pretty quiet for a Blue, if not a bit high-strung, but he's loyal and sweet, even if he has a bit of a hard time showing it.

The both of them worked together to survive the violent floods and rainfall that devastated their original home, and now live a quiet life together in Sanctuary, going on little adventures here and there to try and reclaim the life they lost bit by bit.

(Okay, time to tag my one fan. @100nebulas , I think you said you wanted more Sanctuary content in general that one time, so I guess you’re gonna be eternally tagged in these lmao. Hope you enjoy :])

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

i still haven’t written out my 261 metapost but i can’t stop thinking about the stsg subtext in that chapter . the parallels between geto slaughtering the village and gojo slaughtering the higher ups…. the fact that gojo does it right after declaring that he has to “catch up” to geto

[spicyicymeloncat]

Idk if this is a hot take but why is it always “Kai slaved away and worked his ass off to raise his sister” and never the other way round or them working hard together?

Like, I know he’s older but in the show, does he really… act older? Like if you think about Kai and Nya’s dynamic yknow? Because from my understanding:

When Kai and Nya are introduced we see Kai fail at making a sword and Nya being the one to chide him for it. Kai makes an overconfident statement about wanting to be a better blacksmith than his father. This suggests that one, Kai is rather rash as well as inexperienced (something that lines up with the rest of his character arc in the pots and also generally), with Nya being the more mature figure in contrast

Also just a note but in the shorts: “I can handle it!” “No you can’t, stupid”

Kai frequently being very good at neglecting people or things: leaving Lloyd at an arcade whilst being focused on finding samurai x, not even knowing samurai x was Nya or that she only did it because she felt left out by him, completely abandoning both Nya and Lloyd in s3 (and Ik he was going through it at the time, but in line with the fandom’s characterisation of him)

Kai in season 5: “After I lost my dad, I lost my way. But I was lucky to have my sister watch over me”

Generally, their dynamic isn’t one where Kai really provides for Nya at all. In fact, judging by the fact that Nya can make entire mechs and Kai struggled to make a sword, Nya was probably busting her ass to provide for Kai. And judging by the s5 quote, that’s probably true. I’m not saying Nya raised Kai, it just rubs me the wrong way when she’s treated like a decorative flourish to a narrative that paints Kai as a burnt out child who was forced to grow up too soon especially since that is such a mischaracterisation of him in the first place.

[jacarandaaaas]

media literacy is truly dead if people are complaining mirabel didn’t get a gift at the end of movie

[skinreflectsthesun]

.

[cream-and-tea]

pallas in book one is definitely at it-cannot-possibly-get-worse-than-this ABSOLUTE rock bottom but god. there is such a specific flavour to their despair in book two that only happens because of the realization they have at the end of lay me down. like. how do you move on after admitting that everything you believed in was a lie. how do you live with what you’ve done (with what has been done to you). is it possible to pull yourself up out of the pit you’ve dug. what do you do if it isn’t. what do you do if it IS. and once you look at the damage how do you stop looking. past the first layer of hurt there’s just more and more hurt and you were used by the one person who was supposed to keep you safe to cause even MORE pain and no matter how deep you go none of it means anything! it never meant anything at all!! motherfucker your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for NOTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[laniidae-passerine]

decided that in my own personal canon, Santiago’s maker looked similar to Louis, simply because Ben Daniels stated that Santiago was very likely in love with his maker. and wouldn’t it be some kind of torture to fall in love with the man who murdered your first vampiric love? to then watch him fall in love with another, who bears an eerie resemblance to that first love? to be witness to something tender and affectionate blooming, every moment a memory of how none of those you’ve adored have ever wanted you back? it would be agony. it would be torture. god, you would just hate them to pieces, loathing even as you loved them. and you wouldn’t know peace - not until the whole pack of them learnt the horror of love, just as you have.

[designernishiki]

y3 has made me feel many things but one of the things that lingers with me the most about it is how majima takes every possible opportunity and makes every possible gesture to say “please don’t leave me alone again, please take me with you when you leave, I WANT to be right next to you when you need me, I’ll literally do anything for you, just don’t leave me alone again” always indirectly but in strong enough ways that i think it’d be obvious to anyone paying attention EXCEPT Kazuma Kiryu, The Densest Man On Earth, who he’s pleading to in the first place. it’s. frustrating to watch. someone needs to grab kiryu by the shoulders and tell him. for the love of god. this man loves you so much and you keep leaving him when all he wants to do is help you and be with you please just take him to okinawa oh my god

[acrobattack]

i think it’s fun that blossom and buttercup butt heads the most vs brick who targets boomer and more or less gets along swell with butch