#for once: twitter saw it first

[hecetas]

Call me when they bury bodies underwater

by hecetas

[uncanny-tranny]

Not a day goes by where I do not think about the advent of medicine like PrEP and wonder just what the people - especially queer people - who passed from HIV/AIDs during the AIDs crisis would think

And then, I read this survivor's testimony and it just makes me emotional. I think this is the closest answer we have. HIV has changed, and we must always remember the people who didn't see that change before it happened.

[ro-bottt]

stupid modern au headcanon

[darlingcloudie-9]

based on a comment left on this post!

[feroluce]

Wooooooooo. God. Just imagining Gep sitting there and having all those feelings flood right through him as he reads, knowing that Sampo's gone for good but still kinda hoping it's all a mistake.

Can't even begin to imagine how he'd feel gettin the next dream from him. Probably still thinking it false, that it's just his hopes influencing his subconscious. He's probs on duty when the day comes, somehow gravitating towards the shipyard not knowing what to think.

Then he sees him, on top of some wall he's not meant to be anywhere near - don't think Sampo's capable of making a normal entrance.

Dude would probably feel 10x lighter, not realising the weight of the new's burden until it was gone, soft smile on his face as he turns around - having seen nothing at all.

N in the next few chases, if he's a little slower than usual, takes safer patrols when he notices he'sbeing followed, then he's merely out of practice.

((The context: Lucid Dreamer ficlet part 1, part 2, and an ask))

AAAAAAA ANON YOU'RE SO SMART. I have thought the same thing about Gepard's reaction to the dream; I think he'd be wary. He would be worried it was just a regular dream and not a Dream-dream, and I don't think he would tell anyone about it, because he doesn't want to break anyone's heart all over again with false hopes.

The part of this that's really killing me though is GEPARD NOTICING SAMPO IS STALKING HIM and TAKING SAFER ROUTES TO PROTECT HIM, THAT'S SO FUCKING GOOD. Gepard feeling eyes on the back of his neck in a way he hasn't felt in so long, and instead of being alarmed like a normal person, he just feels at peace. Like ah, he missed this feeling, and he didn't realize how badly he did until just now...

Absolute freaks, the both of them. I adore them.

[dazeddoodles]

Honestly, ignoring yhe period they broke up for obvious reason raeda is as healthy as possible, specially in the witch standards.

Ngl even in witch standards they're pretty bad compared to every other couple in the show. Except for like, Odalia and Alador but that's on purpose.

[forcedhesitation]

this undeniably has to be one of the worst opinions I've seen about this season. like out of the plentiful failures season 4 had... you really couldn't choose one to talk about? max's mental health was one of the only things that I felt season 4 handled pretty damn well.

I do think it could have been better written, yes. the ending of her arc in season 4 was....insulting at best.

but overall? the show does a great job of addressing that max actually hated billy (she literally fucking admits to wishing for his death) and that her grief is more complicated than just missing a person. because she wasn't missing a person! she was ultimately glad billy was gone. but even in death, he torments her.

she watched a person she grew up with be brutally murdered by some fleshy abomination, RIGHT in front of her. her shitbag step father bailed on her and her mother after billy died, forcing them to move to the trailer park. her mother abuses alcohol and is never home because she's always working so they can afford to live in the trailer park. her friend group has been split in two by the byers moving away, which took el away from her too. she doesn't know how to reach out to lucas, deep down doesn't feel she deserves his love & concern, despite lucas' best efforts (vecna literally taunts her with lucas turning on her at the final confrontation). she wished so badly to have someone like steve in billy, but she knows that billy would never be that person. he was the complete opposite & she can't just have steve in his place. she mourns the brother she never had. she is devastated by the way billy still hurts her, even after he's gone.

she's what. fourteen??? when this all happens?

like the death of an abuser is never so simple as "hooray! I am so very joyous now that the source of my pain is gone!" the damage an abuser inflicts on you is not some cut to the skin that can be healed and one day forgotten. it's so much more tortuous than that. especially for a child.

[buttercupshands]

I just managed to get off mha hyperfixation

And now it's happening again... Oh no

Helps with upcoming MHUI LoV event tho, it was a long time since last one happened I wonder what would happen in a new filler story part

Basically this and couple of pages of mid-final arc chapters + recent episode and next one being The Dabi episode was just too much not to get excited again

But! Important thing - I need to reread the last arc before I make anything new, if possible without finishing it to the 419 chapter and everything after, it took 2 months to really recover from the damage that chapter did

Anyway am I ready for the new event? Kinda! Do I have enough gems to get new Tomura? No! I'm not sure he'll even show up this time, because other ones were and still are really stubborn

Also Steampunk recruit took like 120 pulls in a step-up recruit and in the usual one combined

Not the best time to get LoV involved, it's cruel even

Also that one part of the page I added at the beginning was so interesting to look at and them I joked about 236 being similar. The only good thing with final arc being over is that I can say that Izuku didn't draw the parallel of seeing everyone hurt and seeing Tenko react on Mon's death

Understandable why, but it's funny to just look at them and be like, "wow Horikoshi traumatized them both"

[asitrita]

There Were the Sad Boy 

And there was the sad boy. 

He didn’t recognized him at first. How could he? He looked nothing like the man he knew. 

Or maybe he did. Maybe he just didn’t know the man all that well. Maybe he never really cared to get to know him. Certainly not after what happened. 

He is a monster. Always has been. 

That was all he needed to know. 

That and that behind his glasses the man was always angry. 

But he wouldn’t say that the boy was angry, he was just sad. Well, sad, and maybe hungry, starving, and, sure, even a little bit angry too. 

But mostly sad.  

At first the boy seemed surprised, he looked at the place he was standing on as if expecting to find something - or maybe someone - else. 

He couldn't blame him, it wasn't as if he knew how he had ended up there either. One moment he was in his quarters and the next he was standing next to a wall – or rather, a colapsed wall - in what seemed to be the dirty slums of a godforsaken town. 

The boy's surprise soon turned to anger, he frowned, his thin blond eyebrows - almost invissible behind the dark glasses - arching and almost meting each other. The boy shot him a venenous glance, staring at him with murderous intentions. 

Too much rage for a child his age, he thought. 

He looked back at the boy in disbelief, resentment and animosity oozing from every pore of his skin, now that he knew who the boy was. 

The boy didn't back down. He stared at him, a too-bright a gleam in his hidden eyes, standing still, back straight and stiff, gritted teeth, clenched hands to his sides, bird-like arms tensed, as if he was about to throw a punch at him. His dirty and ragged cloths gave off an all-too-familiar odour.  

They smelled of rotten.  

They smelled of death.  

But he didn't care. 

He looked at the boy with desdain, in utter disgust. 

All he could think of while looking at the sorry almost pitiful creature before him was of the angel. His angel. Of how he fell. Of how he became lost to lead and ice that sorrowful night. 

And he thought about how he could avoid it. Avoid it all. 

All his pain. All his suffering. All his loss. 

Right here. Right now.  

But something kept him frozen in place, unable to act upon his determination. 

It was the feeble shadow of his hand, carefully ruffling his hair while he didn't even look up from the pages in front of him, too entertained and lost in the readings he regularly provided him with. He remembered the sleepy sensation after having his tummy full with food, something he once could have only dreamed of. He remembered how his chest swelled with pride everytime he praised him and the warm feeling that floaded him when he sat by his side, not afraid of his devine nature getting soiled, for he was the only one who cared enough to learn about his desease and knew it was not contagious. The warm, dizzying feeling poured all over his soul, making his brain feel like it was stuffed with cotton candy. Making him feel loved and cherished. Making him feel he was worth something in spite of his tragic and pathetic life. 

He almost never thought about those years, the memories blurry and long ago replaced by more pleasant and terrifying ones. But now, watching the lame, miserable creature before him trying to stand and face him despite his fear and obvious weakness, these memories hit him like a tsunami. 

Because there was the sad boy. 

He didn't remember him being sad, though now that he thought about it, he didn't remember him being angry either. Not at him, at least. Not till that happened. 

But then that happened.  

And many things happened afterwards. Things that couldn't be forgotten. Things that couldn't be attoned for. Broken toys slammed against a wall. 

This was his chance to amend it all. 

This was his chance to free them all. 

This was his chance to avange them all. 

This was the right thing to do. It was good. He was good. He wouldn't think of him as a monster too, would he? 

Of course not. He was saving them all, just like he had saved him so long ago. 

He trance-like moved his arm up, just an inch, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do.  

This time he didn't need a knife. 

This time he wasn't a child, and he certainly wasn't the all powerful God he claimed to be.  

Not here, not now. 

A simple move of his fingers would suffice to tear off the beast's heart and crush the birdie’s foul throbbing thing in his hand with horrifying ease.  

His stomach dropped, the adrenaline and thrill he felt at the idea of such a heinous act disgusted him, terrified him.  

He ignored the uncomfortable feeling crawling under his skin and burning his insides, the sour taste in his mouth, the horrified voice screaming at the back of his head. 

He couldn’t back down now. 

He was so close to end it all for good. 

To end it all before it even began. 

The boy was still looking at him, fists still tight at his sides, trembling almost imperceptibly.  

He took a second too long to decide. 

And then the boy shout. 

Where's my brother? What did you do to him? 

Time froze one more time. One last time. 

He looked at the boy again, shaking, his breathing heavy and messy, as if he was drowning in air. Voice was demanding, worry and panic poorly concealed under a façade of strength, almost cracking in fear. And now he did see it. 

Anger at the world. Anger at the people who had abandoned them in this forsaken town he didn't even know the name of - though Hell, he thought, would be a suitable name for whatever wasteland this was. Anger at the rabbid animals who had beaten him and his brother to near death for no reason other than existing. Anger at his father for betraying them and dragging them through this martyrdoom. Anger at the man who had just took his brother's place in the only two seconds he had allowed himself to look away to find something else to put in their little mouths. Anger at himself for being so disgustingly weak. 

The boy didn't know any better, but he could tell. He could tell from just looking at his little body about to crumble on the dirty floor, forced to stand up in a sad attempt to look intimidating. He could tell from the look in the boy's eyes, even through the damaged glasses. He could tell from the way the boy gritted his teeth in defiace with unbowed will and determination, even if he looked like the smallest of sea breezes could sent his little frigile body flying away. He could feel the heat, the rage, the despair. And above all he could feel the sadness, the blind, deafening sadness. 

He did feel it. He did feel it because he once felt it too. 

And then he knew. 

He raised his arm higher to bring his hand closer to the boy's head. 

The boy reacted quicky, on instincs, his angry frown dissapearing for a fraction of second, replaced with an expression of fear and sudden panic. He put his head down and brought his skinny arm – ash-pale, as he had never seen it before - over his head, trying to protect his most vulnerable spots from further damage, even if his bones were so feeble one would think they would have broken with the first blow. 

He swallowed. Hard. Vomit crawling up his throat at the vision of the boy, this boy of all people, pathetically trying to protect himself. 

Something inside him broke at the sight of it. 

He couldn't bring himself to do it. 

No. He didn't want to do it.  

Not here, not now. 

Not yet. 

He slowly put his hand down, caressing the boy's head and rufflying the short soft locks just a little. 

He kneeled, covering the boys shoulders and back with his now shaking arms. He lowered his face - as if praying, as if attoning for a yet-to-be-commited sin – cheek softly pressing the top of the boy's head, golden locks stucking to his now damp skin. He pressed the kid to his chest. Tight. Maybe too tight. 

The boy didn't move. Too confused by the stranger's actions to even think of what to do next. Too scared at the thought of getting a new battery of blows raining down on him now that the man was so close. Too tired after so long holding on for dear life. Too sad to even try any more. 

He thought of the angel. 

He thought of kingdom of the flower fields. 

He thought of all those he could have saved but he ultimately decided not to. 

He thought of the monster and the sad boy. 

The boy stayed still. 

Law cried. 

[machiavellli]

what’s up with me and plane crashing dreams. perhaps my life long obsession with the show air crash investigations is hitting or smth

[fearnecallogay]

i live here now

[tonariofjananda]

What’s she listening to?

WIP, prolly gonna line and color this in later but I like how this looks so far c:

[ihamtmus]

this fandom should be studied because the levels of brainwashing and hypocrisy are something else

[dutybcrne]

From a very young age, Kaeya held such a fondness for handholding. Whether it was his father clinging tightly to him to make sure he didn’t get lost, Adelinde’s gentle, grounding hand closed over his to comfort him whenever his nerves got the better of him, Crepus’s rough-palmed, firm yet comforting grip as he brought him back home, or, as it was most often of all, Diluc’s warm, yet at times uncomfortably tight hold as he dragged him anywhere, everywhere, determined to always keep Kaeya close and eagerly show him all there was to see, Kaeya treasured the gesture greatly.

Of course, being as shy as he was, initiating it himself was always the harder part. So much so, he would tend to hold pinkies, rather than outright take a person’s hand in his own. Eventually, it would become his most common way to go about the gesture of affection.

[mako-island-moon-pool]

I really do deserve a fucking apology for all the times my friends and family valued strangers on the internet and their opinions more than me

How am I supposed to be just fine with being ignored for years and years or bullied for openly liking what I like, only for those same fucking people to then turn around YEARS LATER, AFTER THE DAMAGE WAS ALREADY DONE, and be like "actually this is cool, so glad I found it" while still ignoring me. Why am I not allowed to be fucking pissed about it? Why is it considered ""gatekeepy"" when I get upset someone who deliberately ignored me for years and insulted the shit I enjoy when I asked them to get into it cuz I thought they'd like it suddenly finds interest in it because it got popular online, not because I'd been begging them to give it a chance and to listen to me for years???? Why is that not allowed????? THAT'S SUCH AN ASSHOLE MOVE, WHY IS IT 'NOT OKAY' TO BE MAD? WHY DON'T THEY GROW A SPINE AND APOLOGIZE FOR DISMISSING ME FIRST? HOW ABOUT THAT?????

[icarrymany]

break time feeling so rad. i always tell my bffl that rens like the one person from back then that i still regularly think abt/ would still talk to