#because of course I did

[lightbluesleeper]

benrey b. benrey album

[obiscribbles]

Week 34 - November 19th, 2023 'Castle on the Hill' - Ed Sheeran Spotify / YouTube

Tired padawans, best friends. Quinlan is complaining about everything except for Obi-Wan’s feet draped over him; and Obi-Wan is listening to every complaint with the amusement of someone who has the exact same thoughts. Enjoy!

[incesthemes]

considering each episode as an allegory for sam and dean's story has done irreparable damage to my psyche. if bugs is about cursed land and if bugs is about sam and his relationship to his father, his family, then bugs is about how sam's body (his "land") has been cursed, later even confirmed to be by his ancestors just as oasis plains was cursed by its ancestors. mary sacrificed sam's body to azazel, poisoned him, sent him to the slaughter. you can't break a curse, you can only outrun it. the fact that sam and dean were stuck within the curse only solidifies the connection: they're fruitlessly fighting the literal curse while sam fights the metaphorical curse within him. it's an episode about sam and his anger at john, about dean and his loyalty to john, about how they're both wrong in different ways. it's an episode about family and ancestors and killing your children, making your lands infertile so no future generations can survive on them. it's an episode about sam.

and it comes right before home, the episode which presents with full, explicit confirmation that sam has developed psychic powers. there's evil inside him and he's scared—"what's happening to me?"—and he's uncertain about himself, his past, and his future. the episode that reveals his psychic powers is the episode they return to their childhood home, is the episode where mary's ghost makes an appearance. sam was cursed by mary and their home was made inhospitable; she forced them out like the white man forced out the euchee.

and it comes right after hook man, the episode which wraps sam's feelings of being cursed in sinful, evil, religious language, which shows his deference to the christian god, which implies there's something evil within him that's hurting the people he loves. sam is evil, sam is cursed, sam is harboring something bad within him and the way to absolve him of his sins is to pray for divine retribution and punishment, for death, because the thing inside of sam is inextricable from himself, is bound to him.

all three episodes are about family and repeating curses, the echoes of harm carrying through generations. all framed through sam's relationship to john, to his past, to the people who came before him he knows nothing about. all culminating in the revelation that sam's fears are coming true and the curse he mentioned two episodes ago is real and it's getting worse and no one knows how to stop it.

but you can't break a curse. you can only get out of the way.

[maisonaime]

The Star Who Listened [Azriel x Reader]

My little contribution to @starfallweek 2024 ✨

Prompt: Character A is a fallen star, Character B finds them

Note: Angst with a happy ending. This prompt immediately reminded me of this quote from a very beautiful but heart wrenching spoken word poem about the power of friendship and of friends who dream together. Happy Starfall Week!

“You kept a rock on a satin pillow on your bookshelf and told me ‘It’s a star.’ You said you found in a junkyard. And it had been broken down for quite some time because too many people wished on it, and that’s a lot of pressure for one little star.” Shane Koyczan and the Short Story Long, For Instance

There was no telling how long he had lain there. Long enough that the ground had given way to valleys and mountains, snow and grass, fire and rain. Long enough that the wind and the moon cooled his skin, warped from the burnout. Long enough that the bones that cracked on impact hardened in the same position they had come to rest. Long enough that he learned all of the parallels of nature.

First he learned the way the ground vibrates during an earthquake is almost indiscernible from the thundering of hooves and feet as armored men trample over him. His tears flow into the rivulets of blood from fallen warriors, which flow into the river that rages through the carrion. He wants to wash away with it.

Then he learned how the earth would split and crack and flow bright and hot, creeping across the ground like candlewax. It looks like his beautiful, ruined hands. He remembers the skin dripping off of bone when he could no longer hold the burning dreams they piled into his arms. So bright, and so beautiful, but so heavy.

Then he learned how the air would hang heavy before the sky cracks open. It reminds him of the weight that hung around his shoulders in the moments before he tumbled from the sky. Feels the despair, the failure in being unable to remain afloat. He waits for Hera’s wrath for his forsaking of Astraea.

Azriel could’ve recounted all the lessons he learned in all the hundreds of years he’d lain there. Could’ve stopped someone to tell his story, to beg pity or forgiveness, or simply for a listening ear. But how could he have proven his tale?

Who would believe that a small, rough-edged, unassuming rock was actually a fallen star?

How could he even begin to explain the thousands of dreams he had forsaken when he fell? He had seen some of those dreams dashed personally. Had seen the men whose safety had been prayed for fall screaming on their swords. Had seen a woman who wanted nothing more than a child bury seven silent born at the riverbed. Had seen the children who dreamed of their prince or princess and were instead sold into marriage beds with monsters and carted away from their homes.

So he could not move, he could not speak. He could only relive his failure and all the lessons he’d learned from it. Lessons he would never get to use. Lessons that meant nothing to anyone, because lessons don’t mean as much as dreams do.

Rocks don’t mean as much as stars.

But to you they do.

You, who look to the stars to guide you. But who also looks to the ground to see how far you have come. You who use rocks to mark the trail the stars take you along. You who collect the ones you find most beautiful, the ones that remind you of the stars.

You too have a gift for seeing the parallels in nature.

And yes, dreams are beautiful. But so are the lessons we learn when they do and don’t come true.

And so, this is how he finds himself in your pocket, after so many years in the dust. After so many years on the cold ground. The wool of your skirt is warm and soft, and it cushions Azriel’s hardened heart.

The next thing he knows he is resting on a satin pillow, high on a shelf in your room where he can watch over this strange savior. He watches day and night. Watches as you work and write and wander by day. Watches as you dream by night.

He wishes you had left him on the ground. He is stricken and terrified to be so close to another’s dreams, even as his very essence cries out to caress them. It is worse agony than he ever faced. At least before didn’t have to be so close to the humans who once depended on him.

He feels perverted because you haven’t even entrusted him with your dreams and here he is fantasizing about them. Prostrate before you trying to hold himself back, because he cannot warp your dreams with his horrible hands. Cannot bear the responsibility of ruining even one more dream. No matter how large or small.

He doesn’t even know why he is there. Why you plucked him out of his quiet obscurity and forced him to endure this proximity to such a vociferous dreamer. He loves and hates it in equal measure. Loves and hates you in equal measure.

And then the strangest thing happens one day. You are showing a friend around your room. And your friend points to him and laughs “Why do you have that rock on that pillow?” and Azriel would blush if he wasn’t a rock. But you smile knowingly and say “That’s not a rock, it’s a star I found. It fell from the sky when too many people piled their wishes onto it. Too much pressure for anything, don’t you think?” and the friend nods understandingly.

And Azriel glows. And Azriel cracks. Because he is awash with the forgiveness of a dreamer. And he remembers the child with eyes like yours but different, the first who looked up to him and wished. The one who made him want to take as many wishes as he could carry, and then take more after that.

And when the friend is gone, you reach up onto the shelf and bring down the satin pillow. You set it on your desk, and observe the crack that that splits your star down the middle. You gingerly separate the two halves, and behold the bright blue gemstone in the center.

You smile. “Do you think the weight of one person’s dreams is bearable? I promise to leave plenty of room for your own.”

Azriel glows as brightly as he once did in the sky.

[mama-qwerty]

Oh, hey. Guess who came up with yet another self-indulgent fic idea?

[heyitsjetstream]

I was also gonna post this last night but I changed my mind so uhh

Fnv oc time!! I made her all the way back in May or June so I thought it'd be neat if I redesigned her!!

I'll probably ramble or post about her some other time because I love her but yeah I just wanted to post her here

[astrovian]

Quay Street Productions Instagram story (16/01/25)

[andreilscat]

started watching the second season of squid game only because i saw an edit of player 380

[gingersnapwolves]

how did I make it past the age of forty and through several major dental problems before finding out that clove oil is a natural dental anesthetic and if you dilute it with some olive oil, put it on a cotton ball, and hold it against the agony, you stop wanting to punch your own face off

this shit is for real and everyone needs to know

[satansaysballs]

Farewell Sweet Crabs 👋 🦀

I summoned 83 🦀, captured 82 💰, befriended 2 🌼, and 0 fell in love with me 💜. I will miss you my sweet crabs.

[bigassbowlingballhead]

did you watch nonsense christmas scanning the background and audience for someone or are you normal.

[darryscrow]

doodled something with my friend and immediately decided to write about it

wip of it below

Sticks snapped under the pressure of his boots, despite his efforts to keep light on his feet; it would spook any animals around.

A light mist covered the forests floor and weaved through the trees like threads in a blanket, effectively making it hard to see anything beyond 50 feet infront of you, but it was enough.

Enough to get that deer Darry had seen an hour earlier.

At the crack of dawn, he and Paul came out of their cabin with coffee in one hand, and seeds in the other, and fed the birds outside their house like usual. The sun poured down on them as it rose without the disturbance of any clouds, despite the fog, and illuminated Paul like the angel Darry often took him for.

He turned his head at a muffled noise in the distance though, and undoubtedly saw the rear of a deer before it sprang away in a hurry.

Darry and Paul beamed at each other, always have wanted to shot a deer, remembering the one time a buck was spotted on the edge of Tulsa and it made it to the papers.

Paul wanted to hang it up in the sitting room, arguing that it was indeed respectful when Darry seemed off put by the idea. Darry only wanted the meat, saving them the hassle of making a trip for more. He hated having to travel out into the nearby city for his job, so why would he want to go shopping?

In their little cabin it was like nothing else existed. Paul and Darry, alone in the world, together.

Together in a cabin, on land that one of Paul's friends owned, both with guns in hand as they travelled out into the nature in perpendicular directions. Paul went the way the deer was seen in, Darry went the way it seemed to be heading to.

His pick of direction seemed to be the right one, as he slowed down to a stop and crouched down, letting out an excited breath as he saw the legs of the deer under a low tree.

Darry couldn't see it's face or its certainly beautiful antlers, but he lined up his gun, and took a deep breath to settle down.

He was gonna see it anyway, he thought, as he aimed at where he'd been taught the heart is, and shot.

It jumped.

What Darry wasn't expecting, however, was the child scream.

An unsettling churn settled in his stomach as he lowered his gun, unsure where the noise had come from.

The deer started running, and when it ran past the trees low branches, Darry could clearly see a child ontop of the deer.

On top? Sitting on its neck?

He knew that deer sometimes ran for a while after getting hit, so he pushed himself off the ground and started his chase, heart still pounding in confusion.

It wasn't until the deer collapsed on the ground and Darry got close, that it wasn't a child on the deer.

It was the deer.

[awkwardexxodus]

shoutout do resident evil 2 remake for makin me scream for the first and second and third time ever

[izzgone]

Have a sneak peek at another hyper fixation I have accumulated

Can you guess it lol

but i might not post the spreads for a bit cause i got other shit to show too

That sounds a little mean but youll see it soon

[swallowtail-ageha]

They are playing lotr on the tv for christmas so i am just flashed back to the time i watched the two towers and shipped eowynn and grima wormtongue <3

[hellodarjeeling]

Hell yeah hell yeah