#i don’t think i’ll ever be the same

[sourpatchys]

Hey, I read that one pole vaulting fanfiction!

In other news I think I’m going to cry myself to sleep.

[mirandimoo]

sometimes i get overwhelmed by just how much one piece makes me FEEL. it makes me feel in such an overwhelming and astonishing way that i don’t think any other piece of media has made me feel. ​it honestly feels disingenuous to describe one piece as ‘just a show’ because it’s not just like “i’m a fan of this and it makes me really excited!” it’s more like somehow this entire world that’s been created and laid out in front of me, and this silly group of pirates that i have the privilege to follow along the journeys of, has changed my life at a very fundamental level. like the very way in which i view life has shifted dramatically ever since the strawhats have been introduced into my life… ever since luffy has entered my life.

my heart races when they’re on an adventure as if i’m right there alongside them. my eyes well with tears whenever something goes oh so right or oh so terribly wrong. i feel my hands physically shake and my eyes and heart and soul brighten and awaken in such a joyful and passionate way when hearing roger, luffy, or any other pirate talk about their dreams being full of adventure and freedom.

to be happy. to be passionate. to be free.

that’s they’re dream. and how lucky am i to feel such emotion upon hearing their dreams.

my dreams are filled by the great expansive seas. in my dreams i’m part of a pirate crew and our bond is closer than any other relationship, be it blood, romantic, or any other type, other people could only dream of sharing a bond like we do. we live every day, every moment, every second, knowing that it could be our last. none of us are afraid of death for ourselves but we fear it for each other, even if that may never be admitted out loud. we plunder and steal. fight and kill. we sing and we dance and we cry and we live. we live so brightly and so shortly but oh how wondrous a life it is.

in my dreams i stare out at the endless horizon line curving out in front of me. i feel the suns bright rays warm me as the salt water breeze cools me down. i help cook, i clean, i fight, i train. i practice my craft specialty in order to be able to better serve my crew. maybe in this dream i’m a musician. maybe i’m a swordsman. maybe i’ll become the king of the pirates. we never know the day or the month because we don’t need to. we just track the seasons by the length of the days and the temperature of the weather and that’s enough because that’s all we need to know. we spend our days together and alone. laughing and crying and singing and creating memories out of the grandiose or the mundane. at night we sit under the stars and lower the anchor to sleep through the night. maybe in this dream i’m on watch duty tonight. id stare out at the stars, blanket wrapped around my shoulders, thinking of how magnificent and absolutely beautiful this life is. i think of the friends i’ve made, the adventures i’ve had, and the freedom that makes my heart ache with what i could only describe as life. true and real life. this is how life is meant to be lived. short and fast and tragic and beautiful. creating bonds and memories and having adventures that perfectly encapsulate the essence of who i am as a person. surely there’s more to life. and surely i have found it here. in this life. with this crew.

and before i know it,

i wake up.

and my dream is over.

sometimes i wonder if Oda knows just how powerful and beautiful of a world he created. if he knows how impactful his characters are and how it has unlocked a part of my heart, my spirit, and my soul, that nothing else in this life has done for me. i haven’t felt anything in a long time. i can feel my passion for living slowly slipping through my fingers with every passing day. apathy spreads through my chest, my mind and my soul like a plague. and yet… out there exists a group of pirates, in this world that i could never be a part of, that acts as the antidote to my apathetic self sacrificially plagued soul.

i wonder if Oda knows this.

i wonder if Oda knows that he’s created a world that fills my dreams every night. that runs free through my veins like the worlds most intoxicating beverage. that has fully and entirely deconstructed my soul and then put it back together piece by piece, intertwining it’s value and passion of freedom into its foundations.

sometimes when i’m really sad, i like to imagine that in another life, this is where i was and where i belonged. to a crew of scheming brave and filthy pirates with a bond so close, who lived so fast and died young. out on the sea, meeting new people every week, having new adventures, exploring uncharted parts of the world, not knowing what lay ahead but being okay with that because it’s the life that i chose and the people that i chose to live that life by.

and that’s freedom.

and if i had to die fighting for that, then id die.

i think in another life my recklessness was seen as a strength and my fixations as a blessing in perseverance. my annoying and loud personality was seen as endearing and my short attention span seen as a useful battle strategy. i think in another life all my shortcomings, and things that hinder me were a strength to me out there. out on the sea.

so until that day comes i’ll keep putting one foot in front of the other. and living my life in a way that all my past selves and all my future selves would be proud of. i’ll live a life that i think luffy would be proud of.

i wonder if Oda knows how much of our souls have become irrevocably intertwined with the souls of the strawhats, their stories, and the world that he’s created.

i hope one day he knows just how much one piece has made me be able to feel again. to live again. to be free again.

[your-starless-eyes-remain]

i might have to have surgery again :/

[shadowdemon-gd]

I finished the game. I... I don't know what to say. I don't think I'll ever be the same ever again

[cherries-and-knives]

Another one of the Peeta moments that rot in my brain constantly is the scene in catching fire when Katniss and Finnick get stuck with the Jabberjays.

Peeta had his hands pressed against the force field, trying so so hard to be there for her and wanting so badly to protect her. And when it finally ended he held her, and rocked her, and let her hide her face in his arms, and protected her for as long as she needed him to and…..that’s just so ughhhh….so heartbreakingly sweet.

[inkyrainstorms]

The Martian Stan AU - The Apology - Excerpt

Ford was working as he always was nowadays, half listening to the radio behind him and trying to stop his heart from jumping in his throat every time that Stan stopped speaking for more than 10 minutes and nothing but static filled the room again. Ford wasn’t sure what exactly his brother was talking about anymore, as he welded a set of support bolts into place, but he nearly dropped the welding gun on his foot when Stan suddenly spoke after a long stretch of silence.

“Ford?”

Ford fumbled for a moment before shoving a stack of loose paper aside and  setting the welding gun down on the table beside him. He put his hands on either side of the radio on the same cluttered table and took a deep breath to calm his pounding heart.

“Yes, Stanley?” He asked softly.

Stan, of course, didn’t hear him, but had paused as if waiting for a response before continuing anyway.

“I know, I know damn well you’re probably never gonna hear this, but I need to say it anyway before… Well. I don’t need to eat as often and shit and I know you’d love to figure out why but… I’m not sure how long I’m gonna last out here either way.”

Ford didn’t say anything, staring down at the wooden grain of the table like he could burn a hole clean through it with his thoughts alone. His palms ached from where he’d dug in his fingernails, and his shoulders mangled to hunch even further.

Stan laughed. It was a bitter, ugly sound.

“Ah, damnit. This isn’t about me. Can’t even do this right, you idiot” His brother took a deep breath. “ But Ford… I think I need to apologize.”

Some old, fossilized hurt in Ford’s heart snarked ‘you think?’, but Ford nearly gagged as he suffocated the thought before it could take root anew. He felt sick.

Oblivious to Ford’s turmoil —and of course he was, because he didn’t know Ford was right here, that Ford wasn’t going to let one of the last things he ever said to Stan be that he thought Stan was worthless— Stan continued.

“I don’t think I ever got to, back when… you know. What I said that night is a bit of a blur to me to be honest, but I know I was spouting nonsense and saying all the wrong shit and… Moses, Ford. I know it’s too late now but I’m sorry. I really am.”

Something in Ford simultaneously healed and broke in his chest at Stan’s words, but he didn’t get the chance to process it because Stan wasn’t quite done yet.

“And I need you to know it wasn’t on purpose. I’d never do that to you. Never. Why would I ever want to hurt you like that, poindexter? I just… I was scared and I didn’t want to be alone in Glass Shard Beach scraping barnacles off the Taffy shop for the rest of my miserable life and I wasn’t. Thinking.” Stanley’s voice had been rising in a steady crescendo, but suddenly got so quiet that Ford had to strain to catch the words in the buzzing static. “I’d… I shouldn’t have gone into the gym. I shouldn’t have even gone near your friggin project. I didn’t go there to break it, I would never—“ his voice broke. “I thought you knew that. I’m your brother, you dingbat, why would I ever want to hurt you?When did I ever not support you, man?”

“Then why did you do it?” Ford whispered back, just as quiet. That old anger he’d tried to push down rose up again, simmering. Stan knew he’d poured months of his life into the perpetual motion machine, that he’s shed more than a few tears and more than a little blood and sweat over it. And then he’d thrown it all away?

“I’d only hit the table, ya know. Didn’t think the grate’d pop off or anything like that. I tried to fix it. I know I should’ve told you, I know and I’m sorry, just…” I was scared, goes unspoken. Ford’s legs were shaking, and he tried to steadily himself by leaning further on the table. “I know I should’ve told you. I know. I messed up fuckin’ good, Sixer.” Ford flinched.

“I’m. I know you’re never gonna get the apology you deserve cause I was too much of a coward to actually call you and say something.” Stan’s voice was shaking. And I’m sorry for that too. And I’m sorry for not listening to you about your stupid book, and I’m sorry— ugh. We’ll be here all day trying to name my fuckups. That’s the last sorry you’ll ever hear from me you nerdy, uh, nerd.”

Stan sighed loud enough for the radio to crackle and screech. “Good going, Stan,” he muttered, his voice getting quieter as he evidently walked away, done.

And all that was left was static.

Ford pushed himself away from the table and sank into the rolling chair nearby, putting his face in his hands and trying to breathe as the chair was pushed back several feet from his momentum.

“He’s lying,” Ford tried to say, but it tasted like ash in his mouth. “He’s trying to make it so… so.” He faltered. “He’s obviously trying to deceive me.”

Trust no one.

But he had trusted Stan. And Stan got hurled into a Dimension of Nightmares for it.

Stan has no reason to lie, Fords mind whispered, because it was always against him no matter what stance he took. He doesn’t think you’re coming to save him. Why wouldn’t he try to explain the worst mistake of his life in a fit of guilt and complete loss of hope?

“Shut up,” Ford said intelligently, and he didn’t dare pry his face away from his hands, heels of his palms digging into his eye sockets and pushing up his glasses to his hairline

Stan had no reason to lie.

Stan came to help him at the drop of a hat after ten years of being too afraid to even call him. 

Stan… Stan didn’t mean to break his project. It was a stupid accident, done by a stupid teenager too afraid to admit his own failings. Stan didn’t betray Ford. Not like he thought his twin had, for all these years.

Ford was wrong. About everything. He was wrong about Stan and Bill and Fiddleford and, Moses, had he ever done anything right in his entire, miserable life? Ford didn’t know. 

The empty bunk bed beneath his own  for those last few fateful months before Backupsmore, the tears and screaming at a boat that never even left the shore, the years of resentment and refusing to believe he missed his own twin, what was it all for? Because Ford suddenly felt the sharp sting of grief all over again, throbbing with a ferocity he’d refused to acknowledge for the past few weeks. Years. 

It was like he was 17 years old again, mourning for all the wrong reasons and all the right ones too. For his brother. For his chance to become someone worthy of recognition, of love. For pushing away the ones who’d already loved him.

For the first time since the day Stan fell into the portal all those weeks ago, Ford pulled his knees up to his chest on the seat and, in the safety of his own arms, he wept.

The static crackled on, steady and unchanging. Unforgiving.

———————

@aroace-get-out-of-my-face @littlelilliana15 (if anyone else wants to be tagged pls let me know! I’m going to probably be posting more for this au sometime this week)

I have ideas for a mini comic and a whole animatic using Space Oddity so I’ll just have to see how far I get, really

[tainebot01]

First give, then take.

[everytaylorswiftsongisaboutcats]

[roseandgold137]

@aliteralchicken Tim has defeated many strong foes before but Kitty and Becky will be the end of him

[eebie]

sometimes i just feel like straight up i’m not built for being a person. dont get me wrong im not saying this in a suicidal or self-loathing way Not even close. to me this kinda just feels like an objective observable truth about myself that anyone could reasonably draw as a conclusion if they poked around in my brain for a few minutes.. it;s a weird sensation that i can only compare to running your fingers over goosebumps but raised just far away enough that you only graze the hairs. i can still function and stuff but it seems like there will always be that disconnect between me and my surroundings. i think i’d do a much better job if i were a microbe or cloud or something

[cryptidnextdoor]

i just finished mizumono. i need someone to shoot me like a horse with a broken leg.

[lesbianstarlightglimmer]

I do wanna get the new hello Kitty island adventure game, but the last few times I’ve bought a new game for my switch I’ve played it for like five seconds and then haven’t done anything with it since…

[kweenkatsuki-main]

.

[mint-mumbles]

Gonna make a list of queer characters that don’t outright state their queerness because a certain group of people complaining about the handling of a certain character’s arc from a certain game is pissing me off

“They didn’t make her say she was trans so that means that they’re giving us a ‘fuck you’/we need confirmation or it isn’t valid and transphobes will be transphobic/they’re queerbaiting!”

Shut the fuck up

The fact that we’re even at this point is a miracle in itself and needing every character to explicitly say their orientation and/or gender identity shows how ignorant you are, not just regarding media literacy, but also on queer history

By your myopic lens you’re discrediting a lot of queer characters that didn’t and/or couldn’t outright say that they’re queer

Characters shouldn’t have to outright say their orientation and/or gender identity for you to consider them “good rep”

That perspective is ridiculously narrow minded and downplays the importance of previous queer characters that helped pave the way to where we are now

Update: Here it is!

[nonsensechemicals]

crying whenever i talk about Cookie9 because all my friends have these interesting and unique theories on them while i take everything too literally and they all just stare at me like “dude… uuugh we r TIRED” <-they dont actually say this they are very kind to me but i can Feel It

[grilledcheeseandguavajelly]

Just wanted to drop in with this ol’ gem-

PS remember how she looked directly at us like that multiple times 🙈🙈🙈

And REMEMBER WHEN I DIED?!!?!

Honestly the front row seats were an amazing choice but my life hung in the balance for those three hours and I’m still not sure I’ve recovered. I don’t know that I will EVER recover—