#i love vietnam

[cardboardcheese]

hes vietnamese in my heart

[sodapopper]

I enjoy a good Vietnam!Soda fic as much as the next angst-loving soul, and I will gobble up as many PTSD fics as you can throw at me. But with that in mind, I think they’re all wrong. 😂

I think Soda went to Vietnam fearless, bright and shining as the day he was born. None of this terror, or angst, shaking hands and teary eyes��I don’t think it ever really occurred to him that he might die. Soda, who never quite understood the seriousness of the world. Soda, who’d lost more loved ones in 16 years than some people do in a lifetime, but never lost his laughter. I think he read the draft notice and saw it as just another adventure—just another rumble, a thrill and a dance, a fight to one-up all his other buddies’ fights.

The day he left, he hugged his brothers tight. Slapped Darry on the shoulder, ruffled Pony’s hair, yelled “see ya soon!” before racing off across the airport tarmac. Duffel bag flung over his shoulder. Hair wild in the wind. Bright, beautiful, immortal.

He never fought in a single battle.

He died the day he landed, in the vehicle driving him to base, caught in a landmine the metal detectors should have found. He died with a joke on his lips. He died in seconds. That greaser boy from the East Side, who flunked in everything but mechanics and gym—doomed by the narrative, he never stood a chance.

But it’s alright. Because the real tragedy would have been if he lived.

Soda wasn’t meant to grow old, the way roses aren’t meant to live past summer. And he wasn’t meant to come home from a war that would have twisted him into something unrecognizable. Broken, a shell of his former glory, ruined beyond repair. A version of Soda that would never, ever be Soda again.

Death came before the war destroyed him. He never trembled in the trenches or slogged through jungle mud, never watched a buddy bleed out or saw his own bullet tear the soul from a body. He died before he knew what fear truly meant. He died young, still laughing, thinking about his brothers, believing in goodness, believing he would live forever.

Sodapop Curtis died golden.

[tejennnn]

Today is ASEAN day so I doodled my random observation about Southeast Asian* 🇸🇬🇲🇾🇹🇭🇵🇭 snacks and drinks in Indonesian 🇮🇩 minimarkets!

*Except Vi sorry because Vietnamese & other SEA countries snacks aren't available in common Indonesian minimarkets 😭

Details of each country are under cut:

Singapore 🇸🇬: Yeo Hiap Seng (Yeo’s) drinks and Nissin x Irvins cup noodle

Malaysia 🇲🇾 : F&N (Singaporean brand but widely available in Malaysia) Sarsi, Smax & Mister Potato (under Mamee brand)

Thailand 🇹🇭: Krating Daeng energy drink & Tao Kae Noi seaweed

Philippines 🇵🇭 : Oishi snacks!

[altcvnningham]

hey guys do you think some of bell’s “favourite” songs are actually just adler’s or

[piripiip]

“I love your art style!!”

Literally my art style:

[vaultedoverthehorse]

CherryCola fic inspired by @damthosefandoms ‘s post!!! this is my first time ever writing a fic, so any advice is appreciated!!

Cherry Valance was sitting and watching the sunset from the perch by her window. Her gaze lingered on the way the leaves seemed to look gold as the beams of light hit them. Ponyboy Curtis would have loved this if he was here. In her opinion, this was the best spot to see the sunset in the entirety of Tulsa.

She liked to sit up here and think. She usually does so when she’s overwhelmed, but recently this has been her only solace. With the war overseas, she feels as if all the peace in her life has been uprooted. Boys from her city were being sent over there to…she doesn’t like to think about it. She’s seen the families morning lost brothers and sons. It makes her feel sick.

A soft tap at her door snapped her out of her thoughts. Cherry turned as the door opened, revealing her mother. There was a package in her hands.

“Darling, someone sent this to you. Someone named Sodapop..?” Her mother said, her voice light and cautious, yet slightly judgmental.

Cherry felt her breath catch as she heard his name. Why was he writing to her? She remembered briefly overhearing that he was drafted, but she never expected him to send her of all people a package. Why wouldn’t this go to his brothers? Her heart started racing uncontrollably. That was a feeling she hasn’t felt since her sophomore year of high school.

“Sherry, do you know him?” Her mother asks. There’s a slight tone of distaste in her voice - which makes sense for her, as she disliked the idea of her daughter being with a greaser.

“Oh, sort of. I mean, he was a classmate.” Cherry brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “I never really talked to him much.” She dreaded the way her mother spoke, and the way she looked at her. The disapproval was evident.

Her mother looked at her with a suspicious glint in her eyes. “Alright, well…I’ll just leave this here.” Her mother placed the small box on Cherry’s dresser and sent her daughter another look before leaving. Cherry understood why she wouldn’t believe her - she hardly believed it herself. Why would he want to send her something?

She just sat for a moment. She wasn’t upset like she should be - why is a greaser writing to a soc girl? - instead, she felt more confused and…longing, almost. Finally she gathered the courage to stand up.

She carefully crossed the room and took the package into her hands. It was slightly heavier than she expected. What could be in here? She sat on her bed, keeping it on her lap for a long moment. She just stared at it, a million thoughts racing through her brain. Almost too many to decipher.

Finally, with the dying light cascading through her window, she opened the box. Inside was a folded piece of paper and a small Bible. The sunlight caused the gilded pages of the book to shine. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she questioned again why she wouldn’t believe be sent this. She pulled out the piece of paper, carefully unfolding it. She scanned the words quickly, taking in the shaky handwriting - which made her smile, as she recognized it immediately as his - before she started to read.

Cherry,

Hey, how ya been?. I bet youre shocked. Im shocked too. I said id never write to someone again, at least till I knew I was heading home. But I saw something out here that reminded me of you. I put it in the Bible to keep it safe so you could see it. It really kept me going out here when it was really bad. I get why ya dont like fights now. Theres no point to all this. It’s just pain and hurt for no reason. Back in Tulsa things were simpler and fights didnt mean much. Now its just plain bad. I miss being a kid. I miss first grade before all this mattered because I knew you. I miss you Cherry. Ive missed you for a while, not just while Im here. I miss you helping me with school and me drawing you horses. I just wanted that again. I found myself looking for traces of you everywhere. Even in Tulsa girls. Theres a nurse here who reminds me of you. Shes the nicest one.

Dont tell my brothers or anyone I wrote to you. I havent been able to send them anything for a while because I dont wanna give them hope. I love them too much for that, ya know? And I wouldnt put you through this either but you get it. You know it dont mean im okay. I just wanted you know how much youve helped me since i met ya. I dont know you well these days but you mean a lot to me. I hope if I come back I can see you again.

Sodapop Curtis

Cherry felt a lump in her throat as she held the letter in her hands. Soda…he may not know how to write correctly, but he sure did know how to express what he wanted to. She reread the letter, wiping her eyes while she did so. The paper felt comforting in her hands. Like she was holding a piece of him.

Gently folding the letter back up, she placed to the side so she could grab the small Bible. Holding it carefully, as if it were a baby, she flipped through until she saw what he sent her. Between its pages was a small, pressed cherry blossom.

Seeing that, she couldn’t help it any longer. She sobbed into her hands, mourning a boy who wasn’t even dead yet. She remembered their childhood. He was the first boy she’s ever liked. Even when she was dating other boys, she left a space in her heart for him. Now he’s so far away, he’s scared, and he’s alone. Cherry just wants to bring him home, but she can’t. No matter how hard she tries, she can’t reach across the sea and carry him back to his brothers. To her. She feels helpless. She ran her hands along the page of the Bible, scared to touch the flower in fear of hurting it.

Cherry wishes she would have told him how she felt. Told him that she’d have run away with him had he asked, that he’s not crazy, that he used to brighten her day. Her parents would disown her, but she doesn’t care anymore. She could’ve told him that day in the lot before the rumble, but she talked herself out of it. And now it may be too late. Why could’ve she have just been brave?

Drying her eyes with her sleeve, Cherry gathered up the gifts from Soda and walked over to her dresser. She pushed through the socks in one of her draws until she could see the bottom. She placed the Bible and the letter right next to a small drawing of a horse that she’s had since she was six. Nobody else knows who it’s from. Her friends assume it’s something Bob gifted her when they were younger, and she hasn’t corrected them.

Cherry closed the draw after making sure the items were hidden. She sent one last look out her window, catching the final moments of the sunset. That’s when she made up her mind. She’d write him tomorrow. If he could send her a present in the midst of him fighting a war, she could send him something from her peaceful little home in Oklahoma. She could remind him of home.

[sanasanakun]

Jimithon Mouthwashing is such a good representation of untreated, enabled NPD like it makes me want to squeeze the life out of him. I'm endlessly fascinated when watching him interact with his crew, surroundings, and himself because he's so fucking lost in his own sauce. It's insane. If I'm being real, it makes him my favorite character in the game.

It's a little scary to say, but watching Jimmy is like seeing a mirrored version of myself two years ago before I truly committed to treatment for my NPD. He's like a shadow. The opening line "I hope this hurts," which I believe comes from Jimmy right before the crash, is such a poignant statement. It's a simple line, but I can tell you from experience that the desire to hurt others when in a narcissistic rage is overwhelming. It's such a good line to sum up Jimmy's character in that moment. Luckily, in the real world, I had my friends and family there to catch me when I hit my lowest, even though I'd hurt them so many times. Jimmy probably could've used friends to force him into therapy (cough cough Curly cough cough)

[mayahawkeswife]

rewatching tua s2.. dawg dave was into klaus before he started talking to him abt the war 😭😭 like he got so excited and asked him how his fucking latrine was doing and was into the conversation and shit what if i start crying

[kaytheday]

Dog Tags and Damnation

Soda steps through the door as quietly as he can. Unwilling to wake the boy on the couch. Ponyboy was so exhausted that he couldn’t even manage to make it upstairs so he’d simply dropped onto the couch, practically guaranteed to wake up tomorrow with a killer hangover. He twists over in sleep, groaning a little and revealing a silver chain that slips out of his shirt to pool on the cushion below him. 

Soda’s dog tags. 

Bile comes up his throat and tickles his taste buds as he sways. He puts a hand on the wall to avoid falling.

He didn’t take those tags off for nearly a year. He couldn’t. If he was killed they would need those same dog tags to identify his body. Those tags would be the one to tell his brothers he was never coming home. Those same tags that watched him defile his parents' memory of the sweet little boy they had raised. Those same tags that hung around his neck as he did horrendous things, things that he would never ever breathe a word of to his brothers. Even if it killed him. 

Those same tags that he had hurled at Ponyboy nearly five days ago out of anger and frustration. Why couldn’t Ponyboy just leave him alone about this? Growing up, Soda always knew when to push Pony or when to back off, why couldn’t Ponyboy just return the favor? 

Both Darry and Ponyboy knew he had come back different. Darry had noticed but never said anything about it, but Ponyboy had taken a crack at it a couple days ago. Accusing him of using drugs to escape himself or some bullshit like that. It was those damn psychology courses he was taking at his fancy university. 

Then Soda had just laughed at him. Trying to crack a joke and say he should become a psychologist instead of a writer. Ponyboy had only gotten more upset, the tips of his ears going red as he tried again to push the issue, all while Soda deflected. Instead jerking past him to grab the chocolate milk out of the fridge, taking a swig straight from the carton. He had just finished a shitty day of work, he didn’t want to have a conversation about how shitty he was at being a brother too. 

Obviously frustrated, Ponyboy trudged on, trying a different tactic than the blatant observation of how Soda was killing himself with drugs. 

“You can talk to me, you know Soda? About anything, you’ve always been able to talk to me, even when we were kids You can still talk to me, now isn’t any different.” Soda wanted to rip out his hair and scream and then maybe beat someone half to death because it was different. Of course it was different. 

Ponyboy was different from Soda. He was good. Despite everything that had happened in his life, Ponyboy still found time to look at the sunset and read books and even write poetry. Despite everything, Ponyboy was still the same smart, talented, sensitive kid he’d been all his life. Losing their parents hadn't changed that, losing their buddies hadn’t changed that, and Soda was sure that even if Ponyboy had to complete a tour in Vietnam, he’d still come out the same poetry-writing, sunset-watching kid he’d always been. And he would continue to be like that, no matter what happened. 

So no, it was different. It was completely different. 

Soda was different. Anytime something terrible had happened in their lives, Soda had changed. A piece of him was chipped away and a mottled scar was left in its place. His parents death made him into the family bawl baby. His buddies' death had made him into a manipulating bastard with a colder outside shell. His tour in Vietnam had made him into a lot of things. It had made him into a broken shattered mess of himself, unable to find the pieces of his personality scattered on the ground. But the biggest and ugliest thing it had made him into was a killer. 

So Soda had tried to become some semblance of the person he was before this ugly stain on his life. He tried to say it kindly, he really did. 

“Yes it is Ponyboy.” He started gently. “I thought you were smart with all those fancy college classes you’re takin’ but you can’t seem to see that everything is different now.” He couldn’t quite keep the bitterness out of his voice. “I’m going to bed.” He decided with finality, having no desire to finish this conversation. Ponyboy gave a loud choked noise. 

“I don’t need those college classes to tell me something is wrong with my brother!” Pony shot back. “Why can’t you just tell us! Why didn’t you talk to me! Why didn’t you tell me you got shot!?” The last question comes out as a desperate hysterical scream. Pony is crying, but he’s trying so hard not to. Soda turned sharply from his spot on the stairs. 

“How’d you find that out?” He said quietly, almost dangerously. 

“I know when something is wrong with my brother Soda.” Ponyboy says simply before relenting the rest of the details. “I got your medical records pulled from the draft office. The officer there told me.” Before Soda can register what he is doing he is down the stairs eye to eye with Pony in some sort of stand off. 

“You had no right to do that you little son of a bitch!” Ponyboy doesn’t rise to the bait, insteading squaring his shoulders like he was expecting this sort of reaction. 

“Why didn’t you tell us Soda? Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you. I still want to help you.” Pony asks, grabbing weakly at Soda’s wrist. Instead Soda jerks away, shoving his brother a little as he bites out a curse. 

“You couldn’t have done shit!” He snarls. 

“Is this what the drugs are for?” Pony asks. 

Soda doesn’t answer, instead biting out another curse while Pony keeps trying. They yell back and forth at each other for a while before Pony brings up their parents. How they wouldn’t have wanted their little war hero turning to pot and heroin and god knows what else. Soda blanches, his fists faltering a little bit. Bringing up their parents was a low blow. Finally Soda does the only thing he can think of. He rips off his dog tags that had been hanging around his neck. 

“If you and mom and dad up there think I’m such a war hero then you can wear them!” He hurls the dog tags at Ponyboy and before he can see the aftermath, he’s trudging outside to the car and storming off. 

Now he’s still standing at the door. His eyes on Ponyboy's ungreased hair, flopping a little over closed eyes. This fight was five days ago, they had since made up. Soda didn’t know he was actually going to wear those dog tags. 

The same ones he’d rubbed while shooting at kids younger than Ponyboy. The same ones he stared at during the long rainy nights, nothing in his stomach, thinking of his middle name. Patrick, like his grandfather. His grandfather was buried at home. The same home he longed to be. 

Those dog tags had been with him through so much pain and misery. They had sat on his chest while he watched unspeakable horrors unfold, stories of destruction, blood, violence, and death. He hadn’t realized what those dog tags meant to him until he watched them tangle around Ponyboy's neck. 

Because he was glad.

He was glad Ponyboy would never have dog tags of his own. He was so thankful that Ponyboy would never have dog tags sit on his chest as he witnessed destruction and death. And though he knew it would never change the kid, he was glad it didn’t have to happen nonetheless. He was glad Ponyboy could go on reading poetry and looking at sunsets and writing books instead of sitting in an early grave. Or worse, coming back like him. Soda was so glad that the dog tags around Ponyboy’s neck read Sodapop Patrick Curtis instead of Ponyboy Micheal Curtis.

A second submission for day 3 of @outsidersweek

[nattaphum]

The concert was supposed to last ~3 hours but it only lasted 1 hour and a half. Probably the organizer of the event had some issues (BOC has nothing to do with it) but no explanation was given to the fans who were really disappointed.

For this reason, after the show, Mile and Apo went outside to meet their fans and to give them man suang tshirts for free. They are so kind 🥹

Apo had the idea of dancing the viral song again but mile was so shy so when they stopped dancing he hit him with a tshirt ahah

Apparently this is something he usually does lol

Mile then took a photo of the fans and of course his fan number 1 wanted to be in it

Then a photo of Mileapo with the fans

and finally a few couple photos on Apo’s phone that probably will never see the day of light :D

[annballofyarn]

Arcane spoilers 🚨

Of course it's not the same. Of course is not the fucking same. So I stayed up late yesterday and watched all three episodes of Arcane season 2. From the opening you feel it has changed. Everything is rushed and a lot of things are happening at the same time. Dialogues have decreased quality as well and you can even see glitches sometimes in the animation. Also did you like season 1 episode 7 ekko vs. jinx scene? Here, one more cool musical scene every episode. I'm mad. Mad because everything in this society has to be NOW and they made the entire new season far too quickly. I still love all of my characters and the story path they chose but idk. Let me see more of Cait grieving. Let me see time passing (you can't literally tell how long has it been). Who told everyone Silco is dead? Let me see the underground reacting to Jinx's actions. Viktor waking made no sense at all lmao. Jace apparently is a saint now and omg Ambessa gets my fucking nerves I hate her. Action scenes are too fast you literally can't see anything. And lastly that reveal in the last episode I have to rewatch the whole thing because I literally didn't get it 😬

It just doesn't feel right anymore and I am trying my best to enjoy it because God it's one of my favourite shows ever 😭

[marchofthepigss]

Guys au where ww3 doesn't happen and AM is made for the Vietnam war instead please consider,,, I THINK IT COULD BE SUPER COOL LIKE WE COULD GIVE AM A FLAMETHROWER SOMEHOW AND THEY WOULD MAYBE GIVE HIM ROBO ARMS SO HE COULD USE AN M14

[iwan-out]

fellow travellers evokes in me that very specific feeling of reading a 50k ao3 historical au smut angst (tw: homophobia) as a 14 year old and thinking i have encountered deep literature more should read and few would understand

[manny-jacinto]

some food i had in vietnam

[godsfavoritelitlesilly]

He totally spent every summer as a lifeguard

[nero-neptune]

“Good movies are always better when you watch them with someone.” - Ed Chigliak (Northern Exposure)