#and my annoyance would be the same

[sweet-rabbit]

general question GW fandom, but as i have not seen the uncensored version of the show, i just wanted to check something... does trowa really and truly do NOTHING to dorothy after finding she had shish-kabobed quatre? like, am i remembering this correctly and am i justified to still be annoyed by it some 20 odd years later??? is it slightly different in the uncensored version outside of high blood content, please, somebody tell me...

[moeblob]

Right and his work menaces (Brent and Karen).

I don't remember last I mentioned it but apart from crude nicknames to people (except Chris), he also just puts them in his phone really weird (except Chris, who is literally in his phone as Chris). And I bring this up because in Right's phone, Karen is saved as "Lawful Obligation".

[melit0n]

Hands down, Give is one of Sleep Token's yearn-iest songs. Ever. It's not on par with TLYW, Jaws etc. (because that's a whole different layer of Sleep Token's yearning onion), but it's got a kick to it.

When I say that song is the epitome of desperate, I mean it.

Without thinking about it too much, the first time I listened to it my first thoughts were 'ah, okay, wanting to give all for your lover and be able to trust them, got it', but then I thought about it a bit more.

Like with all Sleep Token songs, it has a bit of an eerie undertone, which borders on slightly obsessive, depending on who you're talking to, with the lyrics. We have "I picture you when you are all alone", "I am the shadow, you're a passenger", "I'll be the limit of your light again" and, of course, "give me all that you can give" with "and if you want to give me anything, then give (give in again)".

Vessel is describing himself as literal darkness; he's a shadow in the gloom and whoever this is is a star glowing in the darkness. A light he aims to dampen because he wants a taste of that light. A taste of them.

However, it's this desperation for attention that gets me. "Give me all that you can give" is an easy example; he's desperately giving all he can possibly give in hopes of getting the same, or more, back. It's repeated over and over, half begging half demanding with soft dulcet tones and promises that he'll be watching for their enemies, to let them know that they contend with him etc.

Give becomes this two-faced thing of someone giving with all their might to someone who is afraid to trust, bringing up empathy from us, and someone who will not accept anything except everything. It's this sexually charged fight between who is a victim (or if there really is one here) and who is the abuser.

Further, to "give in" is to 'cease fighting or arguing; admitting defeat.' It's something primal and angry hidden under, or rather, mixed with passion, and it's incredibly well hidden.

[chandralia]

the intimacy of Deku just sitting behind Bakugo in class…

[siffrins-therapist]

More advice i like. I think trying to emulate writers you enjoy can be helpful when practicing, but don't let it bog you down if you struggle when doing that. No practice is useless.

[good-beanswrites]

And here's one with Weak for Fuuta and Amane, for anon! I've recently been going crazy over some ideas from posts about Fuuta and food and he and Amane's relationship, and they came together perfectly with the prompt -- thank you for the request 👀👀👀

“Can you be quiet for one minute?” 

Fuuta spun around from where he’d been complaining loudly about the food, with his mouth full of it, to find Amane glaring from beside him.

“I’ll do whatever the hell I want,” he said through bites. He paused to swallow, though. And take a sip of his drink. And then forgot was he was talking about anyway.

Amane returned to mouthing a blessing over her food. The annoyance in her expression melted away to serenity as she brought her hands together. Fuuta watched as she drew herself up. Then she ate calmly. He could have crumbled in shame, right then, at the thought of this tiny kid holding up better than himself. 

She, too, had experienced the punishments that came with their verdict. Restraints pulled so tight it’s hard to breathe. Long nights of maddening voices and watchful eyes. The smaller meal portions leading to shaky limbs. Fuuta spent every meal inhaling as much as he could as soon as he could -- and here Amane sat as if she had a perfectly content stomach. Through everything, she maintained her strong gaze and commanding voice.

Fuuta reminded himself she did have a few advantages over him. She still had all her eyes and ribs intact, for one. It was difficult to give someone a convincing stinkeye with only one eye.

While he continued shoveling down his meal, he noticed her separating things on her plate. The meat in the corner went completely untouched. 

The aforementioned treatment had made him irritable -- more irritable than usual, that is -- and he jabbed his utensils at her. “Hey, we talked about this. Eat your fucking meat. I’ve been eating my vegetables, yeah?” Not that he wanted to. He would have eaten just about anything they put in front of him if it kept the gnawing hunger at bay.

“It’s against my beliefs,” she said simply. 

“I thought suicide was, too.”

She raised her chin. “I’ve known plenty who have fasted and become stronger for it. This is nothing drastic.”

Fuuta grit his teeth. He’d witnessed his fair share of internet-goers who acted cruel about another’s religion. He wasn’t about to join them in being some piece of shit who forced her to do something that was against her code. But there was no way he was going to sit around and watch her starve herself, either.

He couldn’t blame Amane for how harshly she’d refused help from the others -- they coddled her, encouraging her with sweet talk, or tried an insufferable stern parental tone. Fuuta wasn’t cut out for any of those methods, anyway. What he did know how to do, however, was make threats. 

Even if Amane didn’t fear death, he knew there was one situation she would do absolutely anything to avoid. 

“Oi, if you get any weaker, Shidou’s gonna step in.” Her frown twitched. “He’s already harassed me and Mahiru about our meals. He saw my hand shake one time and hasn't stopped hounding me about it since. The minute he can tell you’re not eating enough, he’ll be all over you. And let me tell you, you’re not very subtle about it.” 

The final statement came out with more bite than intended. Maybe he was bitter that she was at least more subtle than him. Maybe he thought it was fucked up the way she, too, had grown visibly weaker. Maybe he was just hungry and tired of talking. He attacked another mouthful of food. 

Amane was searching her plate as if the answer could be found there. There was a long silence as she contemplated. Fuuta had thought he’d won until she shook her head. “No. I can’t.”

He rolled his eyes and head in an over dramatic show of exasperation. “So stubborn!”  When he was done chewing, he picked up his plate. “Fine.” He gathered up all that was left, dumping it onto hers with a flick. 

A fire ignited in her gaze. She shoved the dish away. “I’m not some weak child to be pitied.”

“Wha–? It’s not pity!”

“You think I’m weak.”

“I think you’re hungry!”

“You don’t know anything!”

Mikoto passed by, chuckling as they raised their voices. “Look at you two hotheaded kids. Do I need to break it up?”

“Go away!” they chorused.

“Alright, sheesh…” He kept walking, leaving the pair to stew in silence. 

Fuuta didn’t have it in him to fight today. He was tired. He ached all over. If she wasn’t going to appreciate his help, so be it. He was starting to get used to his good intentions being taken the wrong way. It looked like he was just the weak one, after all. He grabbed his empty plate and stood to leave.

“Fuuta.” Amane took a deep breath. “I am hungry.” She gestured for him to come back. Then she moved the meat from her plate onto his.

He eyed the offering, hoping his expression didn’t betray how desperately he wanted to scoff it down. “I’m not some asshole who’s gonna take your food.”

“You’re not taking it. I’m giving it. I would have thrown it out otherwise.” Amane picked up some of the vegetables. “In return, I will eat this. We both must stay strong for the ordeals ahead.”

After a moment of hesitation, Fuuta sat back down. He took a bite. Neither said a proper thank you. Neither needed one.

He glanced to Amane with a smirk. “Good. This way, we’ll both keep that geezer Shidou away.”

It was only for a moment, but for the first time since the second trial began, Fuuta could have sworn her lips slipped into a small smile. 

[yellow-faerie]

In typical fashion for me, I have fallen into AU hell for Doctor Who and I am really living it up over here

[cuntvonkrolock]

hate when i'm reading a fantasy book and get hit with an "oh my gods". motherfucker you have a whole pantheon of gods that you could be invoking BE MORE SPECIFIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[sysig]

DAAAAAAAAAAAAX <3 <3 (Patreon)

[zoppzoop]

Vent I guess???

[gifti3]

Im cursing [REDACTED] right NOW

[cabeswaterdrowned]

[pepprs]

update i have to apply for my own job for the SECOND time in two years by wednesday and im taking my learners permit test on friday which means i have to finish absorbing the drivers manual by then. the way i am LONGING to walk into traffic.

[echo-s-land]

Someone told me that he 'like hanging around with me' and he 'love my smile' today

[imaginarypasta]

nothing grinds my gears quite like a second “why haven’t you responded to me yet” message a mere 1-2 days after the original text

[snakeautistic]

People underestimate how much it fucks you up to be subtly excluded as a kid. I would try to talk to my classmates and be met with disinterest or annoyance. The one friend I had, who I clung to and nodded along to his every word, had other friends he liked just as much or more. And his other friends didn’t care for me at all.

I look back at pictures from the time and see how separated I was from them. I remember knowing I was different. I remember posing questions about the world to the girls playing next to me and realizing that they had never asked the same ones to themselves. That the ways we thought couldn’t be more different.

I kept myself amused with my own fanatical stories and musings in my head. I would wander the playground on a circular path, imagining a friend and being sorely disappointed when it didn’t feel as real as I’d hoped.

There was a bubble separating me from everyone else, thin, and nearly invisible, but with a pearly sheen you could catch under the right conditions. I knew it was there, they knew it was there, and it changed me