#i am literally so disgusted by all of this

[jyakkopotto-saddo-gaaru]

this is literally the worst post I've ever seen on this god forsaken site. why am i even here. op, what the actual fuck. why in the world would anyone want chocolate cheese. that is the most disgusting thing imaginable. i try to be nice but all of you make this so difficult.

we have chocolate milk, so why not chocolate cheese? we HAVE the technology. why is big cheese keeping this from us?

[mulberrymyrtle]

COSMIC ─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

[various!pjo x child of urania!reader]

CHAPTER ONE : stargazing...petty fights... weird guy who smells of sewer water.

SUMMARY : in typical sibling fashion, your half-sister forces you to engage in bonding activities to get closer to your godparent. however it's 1am, and gods? they never cared anyways.

YOUR SISTER WAS A WEIRD PERSON, or rather your "half-sister" was the epitome of whimsical shook into a bottle rapidly to create a highly-superstitious woman.

You could say she was obsessed or in her own terminology - a "passionate" astrologer who's hands were blessed by Urania's knowledge of the cosmos. (As she uttered in her theatrical matter, in front of the Hermes table. You wished with clutched hands that Zeus should strike her down with his fearsome lightning.)

Yet, in your own terminology she was a nerd who loved the stars too much she'd disintegrate herself if it ever decides to come near her vicinity. (both literally and metaphorically)

She'd wake you up in the chill-breeze of dawn, hands slapping at your sweat-filled forehead (because being squeezed in the Hermes cabin is definitely anything but cold). Her fingers gesturing to the destroyed window, (a polite gift of the Stolls) with excitement coursing over her star-speckled eyes. With drowsiness choking you by the brain, fogging everything that hurls out of her mouth - the only thing it can make out is your name.

"The constellations!" She sputtered, words spilling from her chapped lips. "They're clearer!"

"Uh...clear, cool. Woah."

"Oh my Olympus," she sighs knocking at your head, "It means Urania is giving us a sign! We need to talk to her or something!"

"Why does it matter if she..." you paused, shifting your crumpled blanket closer to your body. "Or Urania makes the constellations clearer? You know the gods don't care at all. Making up for neglect isn't making stars clearer or whatever." Rolling your eyes, flopping yourself back on the floor.

With a whine of your name, she smacks you (like she always does) "That's our mom, you have to respect her."

"That's a god." You spit out,  "She's probably out there creating more half-siblings to cramp us in this cabin."

"I hope she makes better siblings than you." She huffed, her arms crossed.

"You'll just betray me like that? I was joking, you were supposed to say you're the best ever!"

She gives you a look of disgust, her head shaking rapidly. "In a hypothetical sense, you're doing the betraying here."

You gave an awkward cough, eyes shifting away from her face. With a stiff laugh, you murmured under your breath. "In Capture the Flag... maybe?"

She tilts her head, your words processing in her mind. "Huh- wait! You're not teaming up with me?"

"Well, I wanna win for once."

"You think Clarisse will make you win?" She raises her brows, her face scanning over you like it was a joke.

"Better than be dunked in the toilet that's for sure..."

"We had a plan!"

"I barely have anything to do there," you shake your head, putting the blanket over your head. "It's probably Annabeth saying that Athena always has a plan." Replicating Annabeth's confident tone to perfection as you utter the phrase. "I am practically dummy bait for Clarisse either way."

Your ears pick up on her groan, her back hitting the wall with a loud thump. Under the covers, you shift to turn away. Your mind was on desperate measures, forcing itself to shut off - away from your half- sister's insistent pleads. The thin sheets you slept yourself on was better than lying on prickled grass, the hurls of harpies screaming in the distance, paired with the stories your sister’s would wander about was anything but delightful.

"Just let me sleep," you tell through muffled sheets, moving around the tight space.

"You're so difficult." She murmurs in exasperation, almost tired. "I'm just trying to get us closer, that's what she..." Her tone falters, like the next words were impossible for her to voice out.

You hear the deep breaths she takes in, the sigh she releases - even a clink of the necklace Urania gifted her. The subtle movement of the blanket tells her that you're prodding the next things she'll say, eager to listen.

"Oh," you finally hear her voice after the moments of silence, you find yourself shifting closer to her.

"Oh, i'm sorry Peter," she utters in a soft manner, "Did we wake you?"

Who the hell is Peter?

In a sudden movement, you fling your blanket off. Head emerging from the soft comforts of your dingy pillow to face whoever decided to join the conversation. You swore, there was never a Peter unless it was a spirit that decided to wander in the dead of dawn. But, you also know that your half-sister couldn't see ghosts. You were sure that in the entirety of Camp, only one person could do that - the cabinmate beside you whose snores irritated your ears.

Your head turns to the person, like a crane cranked up in slow motion. Your vision clearing up, the blurred figure of the person fully coming into view.

Ohh, so that's Peter.

You turn to your sibling, then back to him as your memory tries to recollect on who he was. Eyes looking over his closed off form - he's a bit close, you think. His sea-breezed hair has been swept by the constant turns in his sleep (he's restless as well, why were you beside two annoying sleepers?)

He was reminiscent of men who spent their summers lazing in the warm sands, letting the grains supple over their bodies. A man that looked like he thrived with the waves splashing in their hair and the chemical smell of sunscreen that he’d pile on endlessly. You wouldn’t be surprised if his godparent was a related to water (if Poseidon still had children, he'd be top one) or his whoever his parent was, must’ve been an avid surfer.

But, you wished he smelled like the fresh seas or of summer's refreshing taste. Instead a vague scent of rotten sewer water invaded your senses, as you shook your head. Meeting the gaze of your sibling once again, a common understanding of apologizing to him came over the two of you - his squinted eyes seemed to tell you he was irritated.

You sighed, resting your head against the creaking walls (does Chiron even have enough budget to fix this, you wonder) "Sorry Peter, we didn't mean to - "

"It's Percy." He clears up with a rather deadpan tone, his arms clutched around a rather curved object. "Can you tone it down?"

You share a look with your sister. "We're sorry, we'll quiet down."

"Will you?" He questions, hold tightening on the object in his arms. You’re pretty sure that comment was meant to jab at you two, hearing your sister mutter something inaudible.

A few awkward glances is shared between the three of you, the sudden creak of the floorboard disrupts the moment. The shuffles of your sister's footsteps is heard within the empty cabin, all you can do is observe her movements, her body reaching over to a corner.

Rustling is heard from a distance, bunches of papers being smashed into one thing. The heavy thuds of books, she stuffs countless books about astronomy (that she probably let Travis steal from the camp's store) pencils that seem to clack at every moment, pens scattered with vast colors. She slings the filled bag over her shoulder, as she faces the window, fingers nimbly opening the creak. Then with a soft breath, she turns to you two - her mouth moving in a familiar manner. She's ran away from too much cramped sleeping beds in the dead of night for you to immediately understand her.

Don’t tell Luke.

With a lazy nod, you shoo her away - an action that makes her mouth quirk up, a little "you'll pay if you snitch" emerging from her tongue. Then in a blink you find her figure blending into the starry sky, the stars seeming to twinkle a bit brighter when she did.

"Does she do that often?" Percy asks with a tilt of his head. "Isn't that, against the rules?"

"Well," you trail off with an awkward smile. "Rules never bothered her, really."

"The harpies?"

"She's good at avoiding them," shrugging him off. "Got a collection of their feathers, weirdly enough."

Percy doesn't say another word, noticing the chest set beside you — overflowing with the collection.

The nightly-air washes over your body, dancing around you playfully. It’s cool, different from the compacted warmth that Hermes’ cabin offered behind the doors. Leaning your head on the window-still, you see the glowing splatters of the stars glint in your sight. It contrasts against the abyss, like it usually does without fail - despite your reluctance, you do admit it was ethereal.

“Ah, it is clearer,” you mumble in defeat, eyes taking in the constellations that appeared within the etched sky.

Your breath awes at the different collection of constellations that pooled beneath. Immediately catching the bright gleams of common constellations ranging from the Zodiacs, drifting over to beam at Cassiopeia. You stop your observations for a moment, with a furrowed brow. Your dart your eyes to the seemingly duller shine of stars that mixed to create another picture - eyes widening at the newly found connection.

"Perseus," you whisper amongst the silence, awe filling your body - it gleamed beautifully. It took over half of the field, completely stealing the show — a rare constellation appearing?

"Excuse me?" a voice calls out within the silence, confusion evident in their tone. You flinch at the intrusion, seeing Percy look at you with a pursed lip.

"Perseus, the constellation?" Pointing to the sky above, connecting the brightest stars together to show him the picture. “You know, the Greek hero?”

"I know," he states, when you blink you find a presence settled beside you. He's close, you think, the proximity has your mind jump. He focuses his sights on the sky before him. His breath stutters unevenly, you see his throat almost bobble up — his face is a mix of everything. It's dull mostly — like the constellation isn't something he awed at. "Slayed Medusa, saved the princess, happy ending, all that." He spits out, a hard edge to his tone.

"Not a fan, huh?" you tease with a glint of mischief, hugging your knees close to your chest. "Me too," you confess, burying yourself deeper in your knees. "Heroes with a happy ending, seems weird."

"Yeah, real weird," he croaks out, his tone slightly pitched up —lips quivering when he continues to stare.

You observe him quietly, how he clings tight to the material close to him. Hugs it like it's the only warmth, the comfort he's had — it resembles how a child sticks to his mother. It makes your chest tight, your hands clammy.

With a little sigh, your body finds itself shifting closer to him. You come shoulder-to-shoulder to him, his warmth ever so present.

"Man, you do hate him huh?" you utter with a surprised tone, fiddling with your blanket. Bumping his shoulder in a light manner, you linger a bit long. "Don't worry, he doesn't show up all the time," you inform him softly, hoping it'll lift up whatever anger he has directed to him. "You'll mostly find common ones, like the Big Dipper or Cassiopeia here — just don't look too hard and Perseus won't show."

"No," he interrupts you, his eyes back at yours. The closeness has you forced to stare into his pierced gaze — it's clouded almost, like seas crashed with storms and overlapped. "No, I don't hate him."

"Then what?"

"It's just weird," he whispers. "We share a name, I find it weird."

"Perseus?" With a raised brow, you tilt your head. "You share a name with him? Perseus? Who named you that?"

He takes a second to register your question, yet his breath hitches — almost stopping his lungs from functioning.

"My mom," he rasped out, a heavy sigh ; the confession a burden to vocalize. There is a crack entering his words, mourning coloring his very body. The object he's been embracing the whole time is tighter than before, you can see the outline. Curved and pointed, a minotaur horn which was penetrating itself in his chest  — he does not stop ; he continues to press deeper.

Oh.

Minotaur horn, Percy, mother.

Minotaur horn, Percy, mother.

Minotaur horn, Percy, mother...

Then, it finally clinks in your mind ; an echo of previous events emerge within. It's him. You knew of him in the rumors that spread by both campers or by the satyrs who's hands tended the stables. The tale of a new camper brought in the hazing storm, killing the famed minotaur with brute strength — his endeavour marked by the remnant of the horn held by his hands. It was a story that'd be etched in the stars, you imagine the giddy smile your sister wore when she heard of it.

A new legend, she sputters with excitement. A story that the constellations will love.

But, your mind did not think of "legends" or the myth in a making. The boy before you, who's blanket was not neat, who's eyes started to water a bit, and choked with the overwhelming pressure of learning of his heritage — he looked too human to you.

The creation of a legend is never beautiful, it is from harsh treatment — to be attacked mercilessly of battles that the gods force you in.

You were aware of that, every demigod was.

So when you hid yourself deep in the vines that hugged the White House, hearing the worried murmurs and rabid shuffle of pinochle ; hearing news about the newest recruit. Your heart becomes heavy. Grover's tone is shaky, the tin cans that clattered as it crunched underneath his mouth. His reporting is messy, unclear, the quiet sniffles interrupt it from the clarity.

What about his mother? He quietly voices out, it is silent. Mr. D doesn't have some snarky comment nor does Chiron bring out any advice like he'd always do. What are we gonna say about his mom? Grover says, filled with desperation — it's coarse, demanding.

She's gone. He cries out, his tone is weighed in by grief ; a failure, he thinks of himself. The way how utters the words is so similar, bringing you to a moment years ago.

You try to shake off the previous events, focusing on Percy.

"Your mom," you repeat, careful to say it with caution. "She... she must've been cool to name you that."

"She was," he answer back, his tone softer. "She was the best, actually," he whispers tenderly. You feel your chest tighten at how he mentions her. He has a little smile on his face, how his dullness is now shining at every moment he thinks of her positively. He parades his memory of his mother like a cherished gift, a woman he never wants to ever forget.

You never thought it was possible to think of your own mother that way, to hold her tightly to your heart.

You give him a reassuring nod, taking in the softness that surrounded him briefly.

"Hm," you hummed, fingers playing amongst the gathering dust at the window. "Naming you after Perseus, names are pretty strong thing here, you know?"

"Grover said the same thing," he says confused. "When I almost said Diony — Mr. D's real name. What's that about?"

"Uh, my sister says it kind of seals your destiny," you trail off. "If you're named after something, your fate's gonna be written out for you." But you put a shushing motion to your mouth, "I don't believe whatever she says — she's ultra superstitious, really. It might be her fear-mongering again."

"But," you continue. "Your mother must've loved you a lot for you to be named after a hero who gets a happy ending."

He squints his eyes, wondering what you were trying to imply.

"If we do take my sister's words, she wants a happy ending for you," you say slow, thinking of how to convince him. "Then you should follow that destiny, let yourself reach a happy ending that you want," you ramble off to him, hoping he'd listen. "I mean, that's why you were brought here? You must've felt outcasted, like most of us — and now, you're not different anymore, you're just you."

You take a breather, the next words crashing on you. "That's something happy isn't it? To finally be with people who understand, — here you don't have to be scared. You can do everything without fear of judgement."

"Will I?" he spoke in a hushed tone, insecurity evident. "I mean, I did get dunked in a toilet first day in, very welcoming." He uses a sarcastic tone, the displease is displayed loudly.

That alone makes you laugh, "So Clarisse did that to you, that's why you smell weird."

"H-huh, I don't..." leaning down to sniff a part of his clothes, "I wasn't even wet by the toilet water!"

You were a bit stunned at his claims, shaking it off quickly. "Well I can still smell it!"

"Are you messing with me?"

"Well, we are in the Hermes cabin, try guessing," you cheekily reply, using your elbow to nudge him. He playfully shoves you off with a huff, making you smile.

"It's hard to read your face — it's a blurred mix," he scoffs at your words.

"Blurred mix? That's a new one," you expressed amusement, shaking your head. "Has camp been mentioning that again?"

"Well, it's not a joke, it is kinda blu —"

"Well, since you faced Clarisse's toilet ritual" you cut off his words, reaching out to pat his shoulder. "You definitely will, you'll belong here just fine."

You'll belong here just fine.

Percy pauses, your hands still placed on him — you flinch, immediately removing it. He mulls over your words, blooming something within him — you think that after being kicked out almost every year, that he'll never find a place to be. Everywhere he steps in, trouble catches up and is ready to grab his collars and sink him deeper into the pits.

To himself, he is an outcast — he has never belonged, he is the kid a Nancy Bobofit like-persona would pick on every chance, the weird kid who couldn't do well in school. A trouble-maker who'd burdened everyone.

Yet, Camp Half-blood entered his life — and everyone shares the same story. He isn't alone anymore, he's not different, he's everyone else — just like he'd dream.

Okay, I'll belong here, just fine. Percy thinks deep inside, giving you a half-smile. A shared silence falls between you two, turning your attention back to the beaming stars. You hear a stifled yawn beside you, Percy body sways like the calm winds — sleepiness overcoming his every being.

He crawls back, uttering a curt goodnight. His snores now adding on to the never-ending piles of sleepy campers — it's annoying, but it's starting to lull you to your own sense of slumber.

"Goodnight, Percy," you reply back, already finding his body deep within the covers. You observe how his face flinches, before coming down to a little smile - he was thinking of his mom. You come closer to his side.

"May the stars guide you,"  you whisper, it's unfamiliar on your tongue. It better suits your sister, however you wished the words wrapped the nightmares that plagued him. It worked when your sister uttered them when you tossed and turned at sleepless nights, gentle hands soothing you down.

You pray to that the boy beside you, who's face shone brightly at the mention of his mother. That he would not succumb to the horrors being a demigod would bring him. The grief that weighed on your , the flashes of other campers before him, who crumbled under the gods.

Do they even care?

You hope they will, someday. Turning over to observe the brightest star, a speckle of hope in your heart.

"Goodnight..."

Your voice halts at what you want to say next - "mom." Shaking your head, you return the blanket over your heaving chest.

"You really did make the stars nicer," you blurt out, a tinge of frustration in your tone. "It's not that bad." you snicker mockingly, hoping it'll anger her a bit.

Maybe, if you squinted hard enough, the star twinkled back for a brief moment. Urania's weird way of scolding, you wished - but the gods never cared, do they?

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

first chapter done! wohoo, hope you enjoyed this is the first ever book i've written and decided to post so im shy, hehe... reblogs and comments are HIGHLY appreciated, would love to gain insight on how to improve this story -- so any beta reader who can give me advice thank you!

also i lowkey bawled because I DELETED A GOOD PORTION OF THIS FIC I HAD TO REWRITE IT AUGHHH.

fun fact : the camper who can see ghosts is actually another reader insert i plan to release, someday :0! (try to guess who's their godparent is)

[ducktracy]

there are a lot of evil people in the world and a lot of darkness in the world and so it’s very important for me to stress that now more than ever is the time to spread kindness and compassion. combat the evil by not only not partaking in it, but actively refuting it. destroy the notion that being compassionate or generous or kind to someone is uncool or embarrassing or even scary. be the change you want to see. start a chain reaction. positivity only breeds more positivity. do an act of kindness for someone so that that person who is too afraid to do it themselves can see you, realize that they’re not alone, and perhaps sheepishly follow your example. and then the next person who is too afraid but sees that person can do the same. when bad news comes out about bad people or horrible atrocities in the world it’s such an easy impulse to despair, and obviously it’s important to feel what you need to feel. grieve. be angry. be sorrowful. be empathetic. but dust off your pants and get up and be a part of a chain reaction that, no matter how small the scale, and spread compassion and love and care. all the reasons why you might not—“it’s hard! it’s scary! people will make fun of me! it’s useless because there’s too much evil!” are all grade A arguments as to why you should. you have no idea how many people you could inspire to do the same. even if it doesn’t get you anyway far, you can at least say you have the nobility of trying. please choose love and please choose life. you are worth loving and you are worth inspiring others to love

[bosooka]

no disagreements here, just additions :)

there was a period of time, more 2020-2021, when pro-jedi people were 1) very much outnumbered and 2) hit with gross harassment, suicide bait, bullying etc. that much of the old guard still remembers. i was there as a pro-jedi person and it was honestly really awful. i was told, among other things, that i must not care at all for the crimes the catholic church committed (which, as a sefardic jew, was really appalling)?? about star wars??

this is what really began the era of certain pro-jedi people becoming really mean and hateful, and when i became alienated in the community as someone who...actually follows the teachings of the buddha and tries to not speak or act out of anger lol. i definitely became uncomfortable identifying myself with this group although none of my views on the jedi themselves have or will change, but i also feel sad because i know it's the result of a sort of collective trauma they experienced. even if it was "only" a fer bad apples, the fact that it's functionally impossible to distinguish between a normal person and someone who is going to send you anon hate for 3 days gives you a really nasty hyper-vigilance

(there is a certain knee-jerk attempt to claim that things that happen online aren't "actually" hurtful and don't traumatize, and that is the biggest crock of bullshit i've heard in my life)

i experienced something very similar as a satine fan, during the same time (compounded by being on twitter, which is The Worst Platform Ever), and i have had to train myself out of the subsequent blind rage and anxiety i feel when i see someone being an asshole about her. i am absolutely mortified by the way i've spoken to some people who had no idea why i reacted so intensely to their words, and it was because i became so used to being bullied and clowned on by "satine critical" people that my survival mechanism became "tearing them a new asshole before they have time to react".

in other words, i think a number of pro-jedi fans have developed an unhealthy relationship with fighting on the internet which is not unique to them but is a result of a previous era where harassment and aggression was much more normalized (at risk of invoking The Dark Discourse, i blame the anti-proshipper nonsense for giving cyberbullying new life). all of the new folks coming in are rightfully going "what the fuck? are you okay??" and i hope everyone involved gets therapy.

final note about the "chinese propaganda" angle: as an actual buddhist (jew), the popularity of "jedi critical" takes in SW that are rebuking or degrading buddhist philosophy in SW is the result of the fact that western culture is fundamentally materialist and rewards unhealthy attachment to worldly pleasures and desires as an alternative to the internal self-satisfaction that cannot be bought for all the money in the world.

reducing the chinese government's literal genocide of tibetans to "they hate buddhism" is, once again, a monumental crock of sinophobic horseshit, not least because a third of china still identifies as buddhist and those teachings are all over some of the most popular wuxia/xianxia medias being made in china right now. as if we have to point fingers at the CCP to justify western disdain for any belief system that goes against the grain of the christian-capitalist philosophical hegemony.

that being said, i have literally seen people go, "expecting people to just be okay with the fact that you can't control what happens in your life is an evil soulless teaching that only a disgusting cult would teach!" and their response to people pointing out that "you can't control what happens in your life," is a fundamental buddhist teaching is often either, "well OBVIOUSLY i don't mean it towards the REAL religion that the creator of this franchise is a part of!" or just "you're not even buddhist, what do you care?"

this is not acceptable and it is offensive to buddhists, actually. and, no, the way these teachings are depicted in star wars are not nearly different enough from "real" buddhism (whatever that means) to absolve people who say these things from any sort of responsibility for confronting their internal biases

'jedi bashing is chinese propaganda'

I'm sorry what now -

also, I'm australian :)

and I don't even bash the jedi. I critique them. for their flaws. lovingly. because I yearn for their reform like luke did in the eu, not complete annihilation.

there's a guardians of the whills fanfic set in jeddah and their training system in it is just. chef's kiss I think chirrut and baze could have saved the jedi order singlehandedly

[jvzebel-x]

here's an update for all the "tOuRiSm iS fOr ThE pEoPlE" fucks. always remember that the second anyone steps foot on that land in the name of "tourism" or any other haole institution, that is colonizing&that person is a fucking explicit modern colonizer who made the conscious decision to be one and has spent a lot of fucking money on that trip to get their title. only that kine want more of their kin there-- don't pretend that shit is for anyone else.

drop dead of spontaneous combustion specifically, not even the sharks would want that pīlau fucking meat.

[ten-ge]

some of you believe that wayvs success with this cb has to do with them being five and it's literally the most ridiculous thing ever. yes let's act like it has nothing to do with sm suddenly putting in effort.

i respect everyones opinions but there is absolutely no reason to call sicheng talentless and not good enough in singing or dancing. he has always shown that he cares about wayv, lastly by going back and forth during on my youth era to attend wayv events and to do his own solo stuff.

as if his explanation why he won't be participating in this cb wasn't enough for you to understand that this is not his fault and that he really wanted to.

you dumbasses saying you only like him for looking pretty in season's greetings and photoshoots is so shallow and it's highly disgusting how many notes these posts get.

first wayv wasn't good enough to be considered a part of nct (except for your fave member) and now you need someone else to shit on. if you can't find someone to hate (always veiled with the infamous i love winwin but…) you can't live your miserable life.

please don't interact with me if you genuinely have this mindset or agree with this mental bullshit.

[54625]

such an attest to the morning crew's strength that after pac realised kissing fit (on the forehead) was now something that was on the table, he immediately thought to ask tubbo if he wanted to watch it

[triglycercule]

why is horror almost ALWAYS sweating bro this man must be a straight up water faucet with how much sweat he has in every horrortale panel. however it is for this reason that i think he has hyperhidrosis. hello my name is triglycercule and in this essay i will explain

[fallloverfic]

I love singNsong again reminding people in Side Story that Dokja wanted other people to read TWSA (he wrote reviews and comments! It was his first wish), and he only stopped bothering because people harassed him for it. He didn't gate-keep the story. When he's avoiding talking to Sangah about it at the beginning of ORV, it's because he knows what happens when he tells people about the story, not because he's gate-keeping it from her. He notes he's not proud of his hobby (likely because he's been bullied all through his life, including for reading the thing he loves): he finds it embarrassing to talk about, and better respects her studying Spanish in her free time (learning another language is a generally accepted thing in society). He assumes she won't care or will look at him funny (or worse) for when she learns about the novel he's into.

Basically anyone writing "let's gatekeep ORV" posts because of the anime announcement or because they dislike the manhwa or some other weirdness, y'all are the villains in the scenario.

The literal climax of the story is about sharing ORV with as many people as possible. What story were y'all reading?

[krispiecake]

tell me why i can hear another tenants fucking music from my flat. HE DOESNT EVEN LIVE IN MY BUILDING. HE LIVES IN A COMPLETELY SEPARATE BUILDING ON THE SECOND FLOOR AND I CAN HEAR HIS MUSIC FROM MY FLAT. MY FLAT WHICH IS IN A DIFFERENT SEPARATE BUILDING.

[nobodybetterlookatme]

Update 2: the germaphobia didn't win bc he sneezed so hard he cried kinda and I can't not hug the people I like when there's tears so that's where we're at now lmao I'm literally so fucked but at least I'm not doing anything the next week 😭 checked him over since caution has been thrown to the wind, dude for sure has the flu but I'm hoping I can dodge it bc I got vaccinated so fingers crossed there. Ran out of tissues, so he's resorted to napkins and his jacket which isn't nearly as hot irl as it is in fic, but this is what it's come to 😔 also he's gone through three more masks and I'm lowkey scared he's gonna run out of those too 😭😭

[wiremotherofficial]

i'm afraid i'm going to wake up like this tomorrow

[thedreadvampy]

legitimately insane how to some people, "we should wipe out this ethnic group that we've violently constrained to a ghetto because they're just genetically more violent and dangerous" is a reasonable and justifiable statement but it's Nazi Rhetoric to say something like, "it's bad that Israeli civilians are being killed but acknowledging that as tragic includes acknowledging that the almost daily state-sanctioned murder of civilians by the Israeli government is also tragic and unacceptable"

btw guys speaking of Nazi shit - can we check in, alongside what's been done to Palestinians in the last 75 years, what's the Israeli government's take on the Azerbaijani government's newest round of ethnic cleansing of Armenians? oh are the Israeli government's actions maybe not determined by Jewish identity, but by a commitment to colonial supremacy which puts them on the same page as other violently genocidal states like Azerbaijan, the US, and the UK? god can you Even Imagine?

(framing speaking against Israeli war crimes as inherently antisemitic requires understanding the Israeli state as representing all Jewish people, when it doesn't even represent all Israelis.

framing Israeli war crimes as synonymous with Jewish identity is pretty fucked up if we're being honest. I don't think that controlling water and power and movement for a captive population and shooting children dead for throwing stones is an inherent value of Judaism, any more than I think the torture carried out at Guantanamo Bay is an inherent value of Christianity - in both cases they're atrocities carried out by a far right genocidal government using religious identity as a shield.

Calling statements like "Israel is committing genocide against the people it's displaced" inherently antisemitic is doing more to further the idea that all Jewish people are associated with Israel than saying "the Israeli government is doing war crimes," which is a statement of fact about a country that exists and does war crimes. Is criticism of Israel as a nation often used as cover for antisemitism? Absolutely. Does that mean the Israeli government isn't doing literal war crimes repeatedly, on record, while talking publicly about scrubbing an ethnic group off the map? Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh well in the last 48 hours they've definitely cut off water and power to almost 600,000 civilians and allegedly used white phosphorus against civilians so in an extremely factual and unambiguous way yeah man those are Literal War Crimes whoever does them.)

[yaburnaee]

people conveniently like to leave out the bit where nesta tried to go after feyre in acotar when they talk about her not doing anything for the family. the fandom discourse is sooooo funny.

[zlobonessa]

one aspect that always fascinates me about the witch cult is how much they are used-to-be humans-but-now-not-really-are. they were just people who sometimes were good in the way people are and sometimes were bad in the way people are. and then their lifes had been altered by powers so fundamentally that they just. lost touch with any humanity that they had. how do you comprehend being a hundreds years old? how do you comprehend being able to kill a human as simply as a mosquito? how do you comprehend being beyond time, beyond aging, beyond life and death, beyond your own body, beyond your own memories? it's a horror scenario accepted willingly, horror where instead of running from monster you shake its hand and convince yourself that that's all you ever wanted, because the alternative? the alternative is the existence so miserable you'd rather die than go back. the existence that may ask you to take responsibility for your actions, navigate your own life, change who you are as a person.

they cannot do that. they never could do that. they live for years and years, having powers to do literally anything and yet led by instructions in the book, further and further conservating in the state they were from a start, the moment they took a deal.

doomed from the beginning. never having a chance to escape. never wanting to escape, instead allowing your humanity to slowly seep away as a price for not bearing the weight of that it means to be human. damn.

[zazikels]

working on a gifset and can i just say phia saban the ACTRESS THAT YOU ARE:

the sharp fucking turn when he's like wubuwbwu its a lieeee, the withering looks she gave him. it was excellent.