#he ruined my fucking life

[fruitisthenewvegitable]

I came to tell you personally I finished tma today. Stupid, doomed by the narrative, gay people are ruining my life now. It's been 3 hours, I'm not emotionally ok /pos

😭 I’m currently on mag192, I went through a big procrastination arc for a while and didn’t pick it back up until recently

I do know what happens tho, and you are very right, stupid, doomed gay people will ruin your life, whether you like it or not 😔

[twinliches]

sometimes it's not even enemies to lovers. sometimes you get handed the leash of a snarling, barking dog against your will and realize with dawning horror that you are now responsible for teaching it not to bite

[fr00tbats]

i think at the end of the day wherever i land here w my life falling apart, i gotta celebrate that w a rizzo the rat tattoo

[captainkirkk]

Concept: Peter actually got bitten by a totally normal spider. It's just a coincidence that his mutant powers were awakened around the same time

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[cestacruz]

Small studies of Starscream in the Robots in Disguise 2015 design because he's literally perfect☺️☺️☺️ i want to marry him!!!

[n-hospital]

you. N and volo's massive parallels. you understand yes?

[artuurle]

The sinking feeling of tragedy in slow motion.

THIS HEADCANON STARTED AS A ONE OFF JOKE HOW DID WE GET HERE [HEAD IN HANDS]

[beeswearpants]

now that eddie is completely alone, do you guys think he relapsed? like before he met venom? does he have anything in his fridge other than beer....?

[keferon]

*clasps your shoulders gently and looks you straight in the eye*

Keferon. Please read Ninth by Kyn on AO3. I think you would love it very much. It has a large chapter count, but don't be intimidated, it's very easy to get into. It is currently unfinished, but is being updated regularly.

You are the seventh person that recommended this fic to me so ahahahaha yeah

I’m doing great Help I hate some parts of it but I love the other parts I’m spinning in the blender

…..I made the moodboard….

[lotus-pear]

do you ever think about how in the day i picked up dazai side b dazai had to lie emotionless and soulless—like a corpse, almost—beside the man that gently brought him in, nursed his injuries, held him while he was in pain? he had to keep those suffocating bandages around his entire face, lest this man gain some sort of recognition for the little boy he saved. he had to lay there curled in the fetal position, bleeding and in pain, perhaps thinking about how, in another life, this man cooked for him, tried to build up his strength. read to him to pass the time while he curled up against him like a child listening to a bedtime story. played cards with him. saw through the heartless mafioso. the ruthless killer. and instead saw a boy.

imagine knowing this man, the man who saved you in more ways than one, was going to die one day all because he knew you. because he reached his hand into the darkness and plaintively, like a small child wanting a parent's touch, you grasped back desperately. imagine thinking all of that while that man is just a stone's throw away, making coffee in the next room just like he used to for you in another life. the scent, although you've never been here before, is reminiscent of home. and the tune he's humming? it's the silent melody that plays through your mind seven years later, for the last time as you fall backward off the building with your arms out like an embrace. but, hey. that man is alive. he's happy, although he never knew you. you can die with no regrets.

[graciehart]

I really have never cared about height differences in ships but scully being so much shorter than mulder is EVERYTHING to me

[unknownersirius]

as fast as i could

[kitamars]

enmi gintoki…………… orz

[stuff-diary]

WHAT DO YOU MEAN SARAH MICHELLE GELLAR IS RETURNING FOR A BUFFY REBOOT AND CHLOÉ ZHAO IS DIRECTING THE PILOT. I'M LITERALLY SCREAMING THIS IS BETTER THAN ANYTHING I COULD HAVE EVER DREAMED OF 😱😱😱😱😱😱

[clingyduoapologist]

I know people make like jokes about stuff “rewriting your brain” or whatever but like reaching through the screen to grasp your shoulders I don’t think I’ll ever be able to think about c!tommy in a normal way like no hint of exaggeration here no bit this fucking bitch did irreparable damage to my mind