#bearing a heavy burden

[demigods-posts]

thinking of percy going to school as a small child. learning that some of his peers talk to deceased family members in their heads to cope with grief. and deciding to take the time each night to talk to his father. telling him a funny story of how mom laughed so hard, milk came out of her nose. of how he got a near perfect score on his third grade spelling test. of each time he got expelled from school and how much he knew it made mom sad. of how his stepfather is the meanest bully he's ever met. of how he wished the two of them had more time together so they could share s'mores and stories around the campfire. of how much he grieves the father he never had. and thinking of poseidon sitting in his throne atop olympus. tears threatening to fall at the sound of his son's voice. mirroring the grief of a child he never got to raise.

[tangledinink]

did y'all think i'd make @tmntaucompetition propaganda for the gemini that wasn't super extra...?

[glitterghost]

Vessel and his "all I have ever given anyone was a small window into the emotional waiting room of my mind."

Actually, if I could crawl through said window and curl up against the door to your mind, eyes closed, hand and ear pressed gently to it like if I'm not careful, everything would dissolve under my fingertips, I would.

[springtyme]

𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐫 ♡

You were seven years old when you first met the Roy kids on a sunny summer day at a New England country club. You were eight that next summer when Roman, rather matter of factly, had declared the two of you best friends. Those following summers you had shared are some of the happiest memories from your childhood. But as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end, and you and Roman lost contact after your eighth summer. Years later, after the carefree summers with your old childhood friend has become nothing but memories, Roman Roy comes crashing back into your life. 

Roman Roy x f!reader || Series playlist || Main masterlist

Chapter 1 Chemtrails Over The Country Club

Chapter 2 I Am The Greatest Motherfucker That You’re Ever Gonna Meet

More chapters to come

[holoship]

[promethes]

unfortunately at the end of the day I was raised in america and that cannot be scrubbed from my personality

[mitski]

08x14 // 09x07

I'm just tired of losing everything.

[padfootastic]

hey it’s me again lol

it’s been more than a year :(

any idea for the next FoD update?

my friend, i owe a great debt of gratitude to u *insert extremely dramatic bow and/or salute)*

since atleast January of this year, i have not been able to put a single word on paper. not for any of my wips, or headcanons, or even tumblr. it’s like the creative well had entirely dried up and it was so frustrating because i had many, many plans. FoD was the biggest one of them. no matter how many times i tried, i kept hitting the dreaded -writers block- and had no clue what to do. it didn’t help that i was not interacting w fandom in any sense, nor reading any new fics either.

however. this last month, i’ve been having a Time (negative), and fanfiction has been the only escape i could sustain. and then i see your ask. and i see your previous ask. and i read all the comments on FoD and the fic all over again.

and somehow, somehow!!! i sat down and wrote 5k in the last two days. i’ve been holding off on doing anything about it because i really don’t want to jinx it (and i wanted atleast 2 chapters written because i just know once the mania dies down, it’s very possible we’ll go back to a state of inaction lol) but also just. your ask. it’s been such an impetus for me to move my ass.

thank u so much <3 i’m going to upload the next chapter by tomorrow. it’s written. it’s….something, not what i’d originally envisioned but beggars can’t be choosers and all that. i’m a couple thousand words into the one after that and i really wanted to have it done as well so i could upload it a few days later but we shall see. atleast this one will go up.

once again, i’m so so grateful that u stuck on for so long and checked in with me, it means the absolute world.

[estellaestella]

The films will last, the gossip rags wont

Saw an awful clip today that gave me a bit more perspective to the sham relationships. Guessing there's some Hollywood folk who dont like Timo's androgynous/ bisexual vibe is one thing but watching them laugh at his "emo" qualities is quite another. Ron Perlman was making fun of today's men who are ok to wear lipstick, etc, citing Timothee Chalamet as an example. Ron Perlman laughed with the hosts, which seemed particularly ungracious, given that they were even in the same movie (DONT LOOK UP) a year or so ago.

It was quite a display of meanness but it was a good reminder that the shamming isnt for everyone - certainly not the most vocal part of his fanbase. Theyre probably 40 years younger than the people he's trying to appease. The older generations of Hollywood might be cool with a wide range of sexual tastes in private but in public they want their actors to appear ramrod straight. None of this in-touch-with-my-feelings type of modern masculinity.

Now, if I was the sort of actor who improvised lines like "Can I be vulnerable in your car" & I wanted my onscreen characters to be well rounded , soft, kind, decent people then I guess I would play along with PR shams. It's like the opposite of the Neil Patrick Harris// Barnie Stinson relationship; because Neil is gay in real life no one gave him hell for what his character Barnie did in HIMYM. So Tim's being a fuckboi irl so that his characters can be vunerable, cry, hug, etc.

Come to think of it, it kinda makes it a bit tragic now. He's sacrificing his good name, messing up whatever records people keep in their minds or put in the media, for the sake of what he wants to put onsceen. Coz through his fashion choices and what he's said in the past we know he doesnt care what people think of him personally, so it's literally for the sake of his art; to get the chance to do more NIcks, more Lauries, and more ELIOS 💔😭. Most people prioritise their personal reputation over their artistic legacy but not Tim...

I'm guessing he's thinking the films will last, the gossip rags wont. [gif by @sheisraging]

[dykedreaming]

butch bulge not because i’m packing but because i’m a bear and my mound is as fat as my ass, pussy and dick

butch bulge in the sense of something to hold on to when you suck on my clit, in the sense of a little padding when you spank my pussy so you can go hard, in the sense of lean into me hard, bending me in half to get as deep as you can

that kind of butch bulge

[boasamishipper]

melissa rauch + the nbc execs need to get on my and @bornforastorm’s level because in the span of an hour we came up with five different new night court plots and all of them are better than the show as it is

[samgirlie-gn]

No/Low-Empathy Sam - A Character Study

I don't know if I consider this a real headcanon - it's more theoretical, really. I'm personally low-empathy and wrote this to project/cope.

(1.3k words)

Sam knew from a young age that he was different, even if he didn’t understand how or why. Even as a young child he didn’t cry at sad moments in Disney movies – when Mufasa died and Dean was trying his hardest to hide his tears and save face, Sam wasn’t feeling much of anything. When a classmate cried, he didn’t feel pangs of sympathy – he just froze up, not sure what to say or do. What does one say to someone who lost a loved one? Is he supposed to care about some kid’s parents’ divorce? He once got angry and pushed another kid, and when the boy skinned his knee and cried he just felt… nothing. He felt something when a teacher came over to check on the boy: fear of being sent to the Principal’s office. Fear of consequences – reason enough to not do it again.

When his father came home in bad shape, mourning a difficult hunt and lives lost, Dean always seemed to know what to say and do. Luckily, less was expected from Sam as the younger son, but when Dean wasn’t around to help he tended to avoid their father. He didn’t know how to help carry the weight of the man’s burdens. He could never quite relate to the drive that pushed him to avenge his wife’s death – Sam felt nothing towards his mother. He never knew her, was too young to have memories of her, so why would he mourn? How could he really relate to his father’s feelings?

When Dean was hurt, Sam felt worry about him until he could confirm his brother would survive. He made sure that the injury wasn’t severe as he patched Dean up with young hands that shouldn’t be so accustomed to the task. Sam knew he loved his brother, more than he knew anything, but even Dean’s sorrow on the anniversary of their mother’s death wasn’t enough to make Sam cry. Dean saw nothing wrong; as far as he was concerned, Sam was perfect. He saw the best in him with something approximating an unconditional mother’s love.

But Sam feared himself. Feared that he wasn’t normal, that he was evil, that one day he would do something impulsive and destructive and feel no grief for it. To teachers, he was a “good kid” – a little quiet, but conscientious and well-mannered. But no matter how much praise a teacher heaped on, he couldn’t brush off the feeling that something was very wrong with him.

He’d learned a sense of right and wrong from Dad's teachings and Dean’s example; Dean, despite his macho façade, had greater feelings of empathy than Sam did. If Sam was gifted with one thing it was a fundamental desire to be good, to be the hero and not the villain. That desire kept him within the constraints of a carefully constructed morality. He flagellated himself with his own shame until his outside behavior hardly matched his inside.

As he aged, he learned. He watched the way people addressed others’ feelings, in movies and in real life. He learned how to express sympathy, how to lay on the pathos until those around him viewed him as perfectly kind and empathetic. And he felt like an imposter, a liar, a wolf in sheep’s clothing. His ability to act only made him more conscious of what was missing on a deeper level, that implicit care and empathy people seemed to have for others. If someone’s crisis was similar to something he’d experienced in the past, he could call upon his own memories: what would have made him feel better when it happened to him? But it was still an intellectual exercise more than anything else.

Jess was the first and only person he broke down and told.

“I don’t… feel things, for other people. I mean I’m capable of love, I think—no, I know I am. But when other people are upset I’m just… not. I don’t know how to deal with other people’s feelings. Sometimes I just feel… empty. I think something’s wrong with me. I can’t fix it, I can’t make myself feel what I’m supposed to feel and I don’t know what to do. Sometimes I’m scared that I’m evil, deep down. It's like something in me is missing.”

Jess was encouraging.

“Sam, you’re one of the kindest people I know. You’re so sweet to me when I’m upset, whether you ‘get it’ or not. Isn’t that what matters? How you treat people? Even if you’re a little different, you’re a good guy, Sam. I promise.”

It really didn’t make him feel any better.

When Jess died, Sam began to understand much better how that kind of loss felt for other people. Or rather, he knew how it felt for him and then could extrapolate it to victims’ families. His ability to “fake it” made him a better hunter; Dean even began to view him as the one who was better at handling grieving people, often letting him take the lead in that department. But with every bit of false care and sentiment he directed at others, Sam felt a sour taste in his mouth. He wished more than anything that any of it was real.

When he found out about the demon blood that tainted him as a child, Sam began to suspect that he’d finally found the reason why he was the way he was. There was just a bit of Demon inside of him, just a bit of unfeeling and cold calculation. He couldn’t confirm this really, but it seemed unlikely that it wasn’t related. He wondered what kind of person he would have been had Azazel not interfered. Maybe he wouldn’t have spent his entire life feeling like something was deeply wrong with him.

Sam never knew for sure why he was so good at fighting the pull towards evil, better than Ava and the other Special Children. But if he had to guess, he’d suspect that fighting his nature for his entire childhood gave him a lot of skill and practice for denying his darker impulses. That bit of coldness inside of him was fully overcome by the ever-present need to feel just a little less evil, just a little less broken. And he had Dean’s example to follow – a man who didn’t always do right, but always tried.

When Sam regained his soul and had to contend with memories of being soul-less, he was most disturbed by the similarities between himself and that self. Of course, with his soul he helped people, made choices out of an intellectual construction of morality. Being soul-less took away the love he had, for Dean and close loved ones, but when dealing with strangers things weren’t so different. He didn’t lose empathy – he just lost the desire to fake having it, unless he absolutely had to for a case. He got a little worse at pretending, as he found "better" things to put his time and energy toward.

Fundamentally, Sam developed a Complex – he believed more than anything that if he ever forgave himself, if he ever felt positive feelings towards himself, he might lose the shame that drove him to be good. Without his constant self-flagellation he might become not so different from his soul-less self. And that was something he could never, ever risk. This was his burden, a weight he could never put down. Eventually, in a twisted sort of way he accepted it. This was him whether he liked it or not. All he could do was pretend to be something else, and maybe Jess was right – by doing that he was showing some backwards, convoluted version of Goodness.

[okarasusama]

i don't think ive ever prayed this hard in my mfing life

[kimium]

Yet another reminder that, once again, I need to write the fic I want to see.

[helleanorlance]

Obviously I am going to have to watch the new Ryan Murphy show. No I am not going to like it. But someone’s got to do it.

[magnusmodig]

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍'𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 was a medium sized wooden block. one that he was slowly whittling away at to form a wooden boat just large enough to hold a small bouquet and some burial ornaments. he was working on a third of these such wooden vessels. the rest were placed soundly on the grey pebble-sand beside him. on their starboard and port sides were asgardian runes.

ᚢᚦᛁᚾ . ᚠᚱᛁᚴ .

one for father . one for mother . one for asgard .

amity celebration / open !