#beautifully stated

[laf-outloud]

"...a fan ship should stay a fan ship. Sometimes they sail off into the sunset and become canon and that’s lovely, but you aren’t owed a canon ship just because you love it, or because it would be good representation, or because you have a whole corkboard of reasons why you believe in it. Representation is crucial; it matters deeply and it’s happening, but it’s not going to happen with every single ship you fall in love with- it won’t even happen for most of them. It won’t even happen for all of the ones that are cishet."

Anti-destiel Wank (sorry but I have to)

If you hardcore ship Destiel, please just scroll on by. Please.

Ok, I’m gonna get myself in trouble, I’m sure, but I gotta get this off my chest…

Keep reading

[sisislair]

Auuughhhhh

Ok

So.

In almost every way I personally prefer the book over the donghua up to where we currently are, mainly because I feel it lacks the look into Xie Lian's inner monologue that we get in the books. And I feel that that is very integral to understanding Xie Lian's character.

However!

The scene where Xie Lian breaks down and screams about the truth being revealed to Lang Qianqiu, because then what was all of this for? Exquisite.

Yes this scene hits hard in the book, but God do the va's, especially the English one, fucking pop off on this.

Him getting more and more heated before finally, (reason I love the dub for this scene specifically even though I'm not as fond of the rest of it), shouting that he thinks his advice are the ravings of a sad child?!!

Then followed by him seeing the soft look in His Cheng's eyes and immediately snapping out of it to start desperately apologizing, ending with his soft broken little "San Lang, I'm sorry. I think I've gone mad".

Uaghhhhhhhhhhhhh

I think about that voice line constantly.

Also the deep profound sadness we feel during the last episode of season 2 when he's on the mountain, the ache of all his 800 years of history. The trees are dead, the buildings are in ruins. The donghua did such a good job here of showing us just how OLD and tired Xie Lian is.

The solemnity of the whole trip.

Him greetings his parents and laying down exhausted from everything that's happened recently.

Fuck they did a good job with this.

As well as the beautiful horrible bit of desperate hope in his voice when he hears the crying in his mother's coffin?!!

😫

[cream-and-tea]

heyyy don’t mean to bother you but did you know that um. You, now - the ones listening to my idling progress from back home in Glottage - you’re telling yourselves; Val cannot possibly be growing angry over something like this. How dare she? The hypocrite. How can this thing, this monster, this battle-saint, possibly find any kind of righteous anger in her twisted and repurposed heart for the lives of the fallen foe? How does our terrible Val think she can justify any kind of anger at the sight of the flattened and buried corpses of enemy civilians and enemy children, when we’ve already been listening to her murder police officers, soldiers and townsfolk single-handedly in turn? How can she be furious when we’ve heard her butcher her way through the little old ladies of the CLS in the hopeless effort to murder her own faraway mother? (Mockingly) See? You can be sacred and yet self-aware. Yes, I am culpable. I am dreadful. I have been responsible for great atrocities and I will commit a great many more before I’m done. And still - I am growing furious, as I walk through the devastation of this town. Because the wound of Sutler’s Weald is not like any wound I would make. It’s clumsy, it’s crude. It’s thoughtless. I begin to tell myself, as I walk - I wouldn’t have murdered them like this. I would have been kinder. I would have killed them quickly or gracefully, and there would have been beauty and strangeness in the manner of it. And even that’s all deception, even if I had been cruel and slow and lingering in the massacre of these innocent people, upon my whim - I would at least have looked them in the eyes, and I would have borne the weight of my cruelty. If they’d asked me to, I could have killed this town beautifully. And I’d have borne witness to the horror, and I’d have rejoiced in it - and it would have been considerably less vile and ugly than this. The ones back home, the ones who are listening in, I don’t think they know what they’ve done here. The line of connection between the victim and the victimiser, the sacrifice and the god - it’s long, and tangled, and indistinct. A god should not be able to avert her eyes. What a terrible thing it must be, to be monstrous and not even know it. And even if all of this is lies, even if I am just as bad and just as careless as the people back home who did this to Sutler’s Weald… …well, then, let me hate them, pure and simply, for being just as bad as me, because people - -people should be kinder than the gods that eat them. The town square is largely intact. A few burning cars, a single shrine and statue to some goddess of victory, her snapped-off arm raised in imagined triumph. I sit down upon the pavement in the ruined heart of the town, and I tell the dead people of Sutler’s Weald beautiful lies. I tell them that they survived, in their hundreds - miraculously and inexplicably, dodging the bombs. Not a single victim, not one death. An act of divine mercy. When that doesn’t work, I tell them that they were buried properly, according to whatever rites or customs they happen to cherish. When that doesn’t work, I try and turn them into my mother again, in the hopes of making the dead people hateful to me. When that doesn’t work, I tell them that I’m sorry. I tell them I wish they still had ears to become all the wondrous imaginings I had in store for them. I tell them… …that all things considered, they deserved a better avenging and foreign god, a better tormentor, a better oblivion, than the one that was forced upon them. (With cold fury) I tell them- I will find a way to give them something better.

[personinthepalace]

Spinny Emmett :)

anyway I am reobsessed with the 2018 Penn State production of Legally Blonde the musical and I highly recommend that everyone checks it out :)

[dontforgetukraine]

"My head is rolling..." by Maksym Kryvtsov

Translation by Lyudmyla Khersonska

My head is rolling from a treeline to a treeline like a tumbleweed or a ball my ripped arms will grow into violets in spring cats and dogs will drag my legs away my blood will paint the world new Pantone human blood red my bones will sink into the ground to form a skeleton my punctured gun will rust poor little buddy new recruits will receive my things and my fatigues roll on the spring so that I could give rise to violets

[discoreptile]

Additional game card art!

[high-quality-tiktoks]

🇬🇧📚🇺🇸

[sarroora]

[fortune-maiden]

I've always liked this line of dialogue from SQX, because it does feel like at the end of the day, no matter how much SQX says he can't stand PM, he does still have a decent grasp of his character.

And on the other side of this, these words are just especially pointed towards Pei Xiu, who does have a good relationship with his boss/ancestor, and also going off his backstory, Pei Ming may well have been the first person in his life to acknowledge him and his talents.

So the whole thing just feels extra sad.

[ongreenergrasses]

i think annie’s talent would’ve been interior decorating. i know that sounds kinda lame and impersonal but i think completely redoing her victor’s home would’ve given her a project to keep her focused after the games and that way her home can still be a personal sanctuary that feels more like hers than a luxury prison

I don’t think it’s lame and impersonal, I think that’s actually super cool…it gives her a project and a creative outlet, and as a victor she probably has access to a ton of materials she could’ve never dreamed of getting otherwise. if I ever get energy and decide to learn how to use Pinterest I’m definitely making something that shows what I think her house looks like.

[cvsette]

the fact that to work remote for ONE DAY I'd have to get permission from:

the two lawyers i report to

THEIR boss, who is a fucking PARTNER at the firm

the office manager/the partner's executive secretary

AND HR

is absolutely insane. meanwhile 75% of the lawyers on my floor arent in office any given day

[bonyato]

—“Really? Are we bound by a psychic bond?”

Here's what I meant in my previous post!! Bit of an insignificant detail, but I feel like that small change in dialogue made this exchange feel a lot more heartfelt <:3♡

Also bonus:

Nothing much to note here, I just love the way the ESP translation made O-mitsu go from saying 'complaints' to using the term 'chismes' (gossip) instead, not to mention the way the whole thing's worded hskfjkfj it's so silly

[supercityboys]

I’m so wholeheartedly in love with gow’s interpretation of Thor. Not just because he’s fat and a drunkard but because he’s allowed to be old and not dumb. So many variations of Thor kind of stick him in a role where he’s forever 25 physically or mentally.

[happy10thousandyears]

Finished the cutscene of IW’s backstory (the schism??) I don’t fully understand it but it's still p cool! Is the god that IW’s sect prayed to is the tentacle demon (which was defeated by the current sect’s god the six armed angel)?? So is the initial descent of the tentacle monster responding to acolyte’s prayers (and taking payment by defiling acolyte)?? Like I still don’t get why exactly do they care about the necklace so much but it’s so far the most interesting piece of plot I’ve encountered in this game

[siren--squid]

PLAYED ALL OF SOULSCAPE LAST NIGHT...... RAMBLING SPOILERS IN THE TAGS...... :D

[shegetsburned]

obsessed with sukuna who’s inexplicably fascinated by the way you sleep. <𝟑

he does watch you from time to time but you never realize it. not in a creepy way, but more in a curious one. he mostly wonders why you seem to feel so relaxed in his presence, considering he strikes fear into the soul of anyone he comes upon— but not you. there’s something about you. something deeply annoying.

you’re cutely tucked between his sheets, a little drool dripping from your lips to the pillow. you’re completely relaxed, one naked leg sticks out of the covers while the sound of gentle little snores grace sukuna’s ears. defenseless and completely at his mercy but he finds nothing better to do than to stare.

he hasn’t touched you nor does he wish to disturb your sleep. it’s almost a whine of disgust that escapes his lips when you turn in your sleep and snuggle the pillow which smells just like him. you’re so insufferably adorable. sukuna’s fascinated by the way your rested cheek against the pillow makes your lips puffier and the way your breath follows a particularly peaceful rhythm in unison with the movement of your chest.

little did you know, he’s been staring for hours. watching you unintentionally scratch your hair or tighten your grip around the pillow you’ve been hugging tightly against your chest. your hair’s a mess but it flows beautifully with the messy covers of sukuna’s bed and your mouth opens when you’ve finally reached a deeper state of sleep. he has watched every single one of your movements carefully and still cannot pinpoint the reason why he cannot stop staring.

maybe it’s the fact that you’ve confidently assured him hours prior that you’d never sleep in the company of someone like him. failing miserably when the softness of the sheets overcame your stubbornness. or maybe it’s the way you’ve tried reaching for him even through the night. he had every intention not to allow you to touch him, but the time finally came when he was asleep and your hand found its place on his chest, following the breathing of his burning heart.

remembering how careless you both were disgust him. allowing you to touch him is one thing— because, yes, he allowed you, but to occupy his every thought every since you met him is infuriating. he couldn't even catch a break when you were sleeping. there’s a reason why he felt the need to stay and, of course, he’d refuse to ever admit that he had gone soft on you.

no.

he wants you to be terrified of him. he wants you to fear his name and worship the ground he walks on. he wants to feed on your tears and delight himself on your cries.

does he, though?

"’kuna.."

here it is again. you’re mumbling his name in your sleep and it takes every fibre of his being not to shut you up. an irritation. an itch in his plan. that’s what you were. a nuisance he needed to take care of. his hand moves on its own towards your neck, pointy nails ready to tear your skin apart but seems to stop just over your jaw. an hesitant groan almost wakes you up before you’re lulled back to sleep with long digits simply grazing your cheek.

"shut it, woman."

and before you know it, he’s caging you in his arms, breathing pattern slowly synching with yours while his other hands cover both of your bodies under the warm blankets of his comfortable bed. he won’t let you go until he’s rested and the king of curses does need a exaggerated amount of sleep with you snuggled against his chest.

© shegetsburned 2024 please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.