#i have Emotions about this

[underwhelmingalchemist]

Something incredibly poignant about the Gavle goat standing as bird pick from its straw. It stands tall, hundreds of times as large as the birds that have taken from it, and yet, it's defenseless against them. It can't move, can't make noise to scare them away. It stands still, as jackdaws feast on it, sustaining them with its body. And as each bird takes the straw and seed that make up its flesh, a little more of its structure is exposed. It has no choice in the matter. Come storm or shine, the jackdaws will feast.

But it was doomed from the beginning, wasn't it? If it wasn't the birds, it would be the flame that brought its end. Or perhaps a car, or theft, or vandalism. And even its survival would have been short-lived, brought to a close at the end of the season, its body dismantled by the hands of those who gave it life.

So perhaps the birds are welcome on its back, on its head and in its bones, tearing into its flesh as it stands immobile. Because at least this way, its death feeds thousands of lives that are tiny to it. Tiny, but not insignificant, for nothing truly is. Not the goat, not the birds that eat from its flesh, and not the thousands that look on, witnesses to its noble fate.

At the end of this season, what remains will be taken down. And next year, it will be brought back, the builders having learned from their mistakes. The straw will have no seed for the jackdaws, and the goat will await the return of the blaze that it knows so well.

[some-pers0n]

I'm always entertained by people doing those "canon VS fanon" memes where both are misunderstanding characters to such a violent degree 'cause like

[egophiliac]

missed the mark by (looks at calendar) uhhh. hm. but I really wanted to do something for the 5th anniversary! happy five years to these idiots 🎉

[qvert]

Refuge at the Firelight Hideout

[framblebee]

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE 1x1 In Throes of Increasing Wonder

—However misshapen they may be, your brother has no shame in sharing [his thoughts]. —You sayin' I got shame? —The lie you told about leaving the opera house early.

[technically-human]

This happened, it just wasn't relevant to the plot

[bones-of-rabbit]

feed your partner a salamander

[artsymeeshee]

Random idea I got this morning thinking about how small little things (mostly about missing important moments of the past) make the boys emotional and sorrowful.

[royaltea000]

“A thousand generations serve to praise…”

[andrew-dramaqueen-minyard]

Jean about Neil and Kevin basically: I am intrinsically linked to them, they are me and I am them in some way, I would trust them with my life and would go to the ends of the earth if they asked me to, our fates and souls are intertwined, they are my Achilles heel and I could and would not exist in a world without them in it.

Also Jean: ew no, they’re not my friends, have you met them? Insufferable and annoying.

[bloominglegumes]

SG Soundwave thinking SG Blaster Vibes are rancid lol What would he think of Og blaster's vibes? XD

i think eventually they should become best friends

[t4t-pathogen]

T4T love is holy whether its sexual or romantic or platonic or monogamous or polyamorous or gay or lesbian or straight or any combination of any of those things or even something more deeply personal and undefineable

[idontmindifuforgetme]

friend wanted to see my tumblr, and when i told him i can’t show it to him bc it’s basically my personal diary he went “oh so I can’t see it but a bunch of strangers on tumblr can??” he literally does not get me. no one will get me like the people in my phone get me

[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.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

News spreads fast.

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[eleventh-mugiwara]