#i've been thinking about this quote all day

[fruitydiaz]

i don’t belong here

[Image description: 8 gifs from 9-1-1, In Another Life, with a quote from Portrait of a Lady On Fire: In solitude, I felt the liberty you spoke of. But I also felt the absence of you. Gif 1: A close-up of Buck’s face slowly coming back into focus as he wakes up in his coma dream. The text reads, “In solitude.” Gif 2: Before leaving his coma dream, Buck embraces his parents, a torn and pained look on his face as he struggles to hold back tears. The text reads, “I felt the liberty you spoke of.” Gif 3: Struggling to breathe, Buck looks down and grabs at his chest. The text reads, “But I also felt.” Gif 4: A black and white gif of Chimney, blinking back tears as he explains the accident to Maddie. Gif 5: A black and white gif of Bobby sitting by Buck’s bed, praying with his rosary. Gif 6: A black and white gif of Hen watching Christopher talk to Buck with tears running down her face. Gif 7: A black and white gif of Eddie wiping a tear from his cheek and looking away from Buck. Gif 8: Maddie and the 118 surrounding Buck’s hospital bed. The text reads, “Your absence.” /end ID.]

[cecoeur]

[thelastbraincellofthehive]

Enid: *Looking at Wednesday with a dreamy smile on her face*

Wednesday: ...What?

Enid: You're so cute.

Wednesday: *fighting a blush* Do you realize I could kill you with my eyes closed?

Enid: *smile turns smug* And only with your eyes closed, right? You can't bear the thought of seeing me hurt.

Wednesday: *definitely blushing now*

[canisalbus]

translated by GT

Today I learned that the Pope has the right to appoint secret cardinals, and even the cardinals themselves may not realize that they now have a new position. Popes have the right to make the name public at any time, but if the Pope dies before the Cardinal's name is made public, the individual ceases to be a Cardinal.

Yes, Catholicism is weird.

But more importantly, there is only one person in the world who can prove that I am not a cardinal.

.

[kveom]

@svtsource carat revival 2024: Picking Favourites and Fights

↳ Bias: DK | insp.

[florsial]

Jegulus as Orpheus and Eurydice!

i feel like crying.

He felt the strong winds from below pull him under. Blowing his curls aside and drying the wetness forming in his eyes.

Why had James turned back? They were so close.

They had been so close, that the sun was peaking through, its bright rays holding out for them, waiting for them to cross the border of life and death so they could be together again. But it was in vain because James stopped in front of the entrance and now Regulus feels himself being pulled under as James' loud laughter twists into cries.

They weren't supposed to end like this. They were supposed to be happy in this life. Regulus had imagined the life they would lead when they finally got out as he trailed behind. They would raise cats and dance in the meadows, James would play his music and Regulus would sing with him, they would live out their days happily married because how could Regulus forget that they had only been married for a few hours? The happiest hours of his life.

And now, as Regulus dies for the second time, he finds he can't utter a complaint against his husband because what was there to complain of? That he had been loved?

[desthen]

"I noticed, " he says. "But I didn't do anything. I didn't do anything"

"I love you anyway"

-Solitaire, Alice Oseman

[little-tyrant-gortash]

Gortash: Everyone has some special powers, but can you do this? Gortash: *passes out from lack of sleep*

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

I like to think that they'd be great friends SKDJKSNDS

/Directly based on this

[fairloves]

"She doesn’t have a lot of interest in making these boys the characters of the songs. It’s always the girls in the songs who are the characters. Really, the boy is just there to get her from one end of the song to the other — just there to get a song started. Even from the very first one I heard, the one that made me a fan, my origin story as a fan: 'Our Song.' The song ends with her actually writing 'Our Song,' and then we know we’re never gonna hear about this boy again. He’s served his purpose! He’s helped her become a songwriter, and she’s got the song and she’s moving on. We see that all through these things that the boys are just there for the girls to have this kind of self-discovery process, that the boys are really just blank spaces for the girls to find their own identity in. When people used to say 'Taylor writes songs about boys,' I would sometimes say — to be a bit flippant a bit — she never writes any songs about boys. It’s always about the girl in the song and whatever project for her the boy represents. She just doesn’t have that much interest in male characters at all."

— Rob Sheffield for Variety

[luvsavos]

every time i see anything saying shara's eyes are concave and/or don't move and the camera tracking is just an illusion i feel a little more of my sanity slip. its eyes do move. you could say that its eyes moving was actually quite highlighted in the post-fight cutscene. you also watch it stare down the hunters and then do the smooth eye tracking to ruiner nergigante. it's not that hard in a game to set the camera as the thing the eyes track. shara's just Like That.

[jichanxo]

how it started:

how it's going:

[el3ctraaa]

A web weaving but it's actually just excerpts from my diary when I was in highschool.

[tokiro07]

AnimeNYC Interviewer: If you could describe Undead Unluck in one phrase, what would it be?

Tozuka: So when the first chapter came out in Japan, in Shonen Jump the editor put this phrase that I think captures Undead Unluck - "Let's enjoy life!"

[svtskneecaps]

literally it's 3am where i live and i'm on mobile but FUCK IT i haven't posted any actual writing in like a YEAR on this blog whose description include the words "I WRITE" and i can't tell if i'm even going anywhere with this so fuck it under the cut is the prospective absolute mess of the first chapter of the flipo family time loop fic. (for clarity, flipo family as in slime, mariana, and juanaflippa) this covers loop 0, aka the relevant parts of canon. words: 1630

parts of it i popped off with and other parts i hate; up to you to identify them. also the italics and other formatting got erased when i copy pasted and i'm re-adding all of it by hand so if i missed a spot, no i didn't. if i missed an accent on a letter in spanish that was a typo, if i missed a ¡ or ¿ that may have been on purpose.

oh and for obvious reasons, content warning for mentions and mild descriptions of child death and child murder. no blood, and most of it is a three word mention; i'd say the brief paragraph beginning "Tilín didn't scream" is most of the reason this warning exists.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

He’d been hoping for a bright, sunny day to start their vacation, but was sorely disappointed. The portal had apparently taken them pretty far, since they’d gone from noon to night time. Talk about jetlag. They hadn’t even been on a plane.

“What happened to the other guys?” he wondered aloud as he stepped onto the platform.

“Yeah no clue,” Phil said, scanning the empty station. “Thought they’d meet us here.”

“Guys!” one of the Spanish speakers--Vegetta, he’d said, when they’d all met up at the first station--called, from a lectern at the wall. “There is a book!”

They crowded around as he read the instructions aloud--something about pressure plates, Slime wasn’t paying that close of attention. He was a little more preoccupied with making sure it only felt like his brain was dripping out of his ears. That would be kind of embarrassing.

Which was not to say that he wasn’t enjoying the constant onslaught of people talking over each other using words he may or may not understand. In fact, it was the opposite; he was frankly thriving in the absolute chaos that kicked back up around him as a timer appeared in the wrist communicators they’d been provided along with their tickets.

“Como se dice ‘we are going to die now’?” He giggled, chasing Phil and Fit to one end of the station.

“¡Vamos a morir!” shouted Spiderman, echoed seconds later by the black bear in the collared shirt.

Giddy over the high of attempting to use his high school foreign language for the first time maybe ever, Slime absolutely didn’t contribute much to solving the puzzle, and before long the sound of the timer ticking down was accompanied by a loud buzzing alarm.

“It’s been an honor!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs. “It’s been an honor!”

The bear ran past them again, shouting, “I’m going to die!” in English this time.

“Adiós amigos!” Slime yelled.

The countdown ended.

And then his communicator buzzed, and there was a video playing on the screen, showing a cartoonish yellow duck in front of a blurry beach stock photo. He skimmed it absently--some generic welcoming message and another side quest for them--distracted by Maximus audibly losing his shit laughing across the station.

“Come on, I’m trying to take a vacation, I gotta work now?” Fit complained. “This is ridiculous.”

Slime wanted to jump on that bit, but the message cut off with coordinates marred by static and the noise of the emergency weather alert system and he lost his train of thought completely.

“I got the English book!” Spreen called, holding it with two fingers like it had personally offended him.

“English leader,” Vegetta said, seeming to find that amusing.

“English leader.” Spreen laughed and flicked the book away. Slime stepped back but somehow it still nailed him in the chest.

“Guess I’m reading then,” he said cheerfully.

“In Spanish?” Maximus said.

“Um.”

Vegetta called something, backing across the plaza with the book open in his hands. Phil backed up to the wall.

“Here,” Phil instructed, “we’ll read it here.”

“Okay okay.” He flicked it open. “So we have to get water wheel planks--”

Their peace lasted a grand total of thirty seconds as voices suddenly began shouting, overlapping in chaotic chorus.

“What is that?” Fit demanded.

“Is that coming from the other side?” Phil stared up at the top of the wall.

“This is the thinnest thick wall I’ve ever seen,” Slime said, giddy laughter bubbling out of him again. “Is this thing made out of pencil shavings? If I sneeze on it, is there gonna be a hole?”

“Nevermind, we’ll read it over here.” Phil dragged them away again, but the Spanish speakers were dispersing into the trees.

“Forget the book,” Fit said, “follow them!”

(In the end it was explosives that took the wall down, which in hindsight was a precursor to how a not insignificant portion of time on the island was spent. The first day, however, it was just funny, much like everything else.)

(That was to say, the first first day.)

The communicator had indicated that today there was something special planned, so he made an extra effort to wake up.

“Morning Jaiden!” he called to his upstairs neighbor.

“Hi Charlie!” He could hear her farming through the wall. “Glad you woke up on time!”

“Well you know, you know, El Backflipo couldn’t miss it,” he joked, sifting through his backpack. “Got any spare food? I’ll trade you uno backflipo.”

“I have so much toast, come here and get some, free of charge.”

With a quick backflip and some toast to start the day, he popped open the map.

“There’s a lot of people down the wall,” he noted, their green dots so clustered they formed one. “Wanna check it out?”

“Yeah sure.” Jaiden tossed some seeds into a chest. “Do you know what this event’s gonna be?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted cheerfully.

She laughed. “Yeah, me neither. I guess there’s an egg involved, but that’s all I know.”

He dug around in his backpack for a paraglider, nodding along. “Yeah, yeah, un huevo, I get you.” Shuffling the landmine from Vegetta to one side, he yanked out his glider and threw himself out her window. “Let’s go!”

(nothing like getting struck by lightning to wake a guy up in the morning)

Slime fiddled with the communicator as he waited for the line of people to get through the ticket machine; he already had his own, a nice B for Backflipo. The new live translations still boggled his mind. He had to fight the urge to chant weird shit under his breath, just to see what the bubbles would say.

He paid a little extra attention when Mariana walked up to the machine. That guy seemed cool. They’d done that pequeño dormir together on day one, and he had a good sense of humor. Egg parenting would probably be funny.

He was thrilled to see the B for Backflipo on the ticket Mariana stepped away with, even if Mariana was decidedly less so. This was gonna be good.

(it was, and it wasn’t)

So, Mariana wasn’t exactly the coparent of dreams. Then again, Slime was pretty sure Mariana could say the same about him. In fact he was pretty sure Mariana had said the same, but in Spanish, when he wasn’t checking the translation.

It was great. They thought they’d killed a child immediately and then decided to fake their own child’s death to get away with it, and then confessed their sins to a bilingual angel and built a farm and then he buried himself beneath an improvised cross and went into a coma until his sins were forgiven, or something, except his sins weren’t forgiven in time to save his own child’s life.

And then Juanaflippa was dead. Dead at Mariana’s hand.

His bitch wife killed their daughter.

(Everything went faster, after that.)

Slime wanted to kill him.

Slime wanted to kill him for killing their fucking daughter, but of course, Mariana couldn’t even be bothered to be around to take care of her alive, never mind to pay for his crimes when she died by his hand!

(in a better world, his rage started and ended there. in a better world, the anger fizzled out with the lack of a target.

this was not that world)

There couldn’t be an Egg Event with no eggs.

If he killed them all, it would bring her back.

(in a worse world, he succeeded. in a worse world, the Egg Event ended there.

this was not that world)

They held a trial.

If he won, it would bring her back.

(in another world, he didn’t convince them. in another world, they left his daughter in Hell.

this was not that world)

Tilín was still before she hit the ground.

Tilín didn’t scream. Maybe they didn’t have time. It happened so fast. He was sure it happened fast. Almost too fast. But everything went so fast, now, even though Flippa was back. Yet, time slowed down for this, like a rubberneck driving past a highway accident, watching him desperately trying to shock their heart back into motion.

“YOU KILL MY BEST FRIENDS,” Flippa wrote. He begged her to understand. She wrote, “i can’t believe it.”

She wrote, “I HATE YOU.”

(in a better world, the error would have been caught in April instead of July.

this was not that world)

His daughter fell to his bitch wife’s sword. The same way. The next day.

They’d only just gotten her back. And Mariana killed her again.

He only left eggxile for the funeral. She wouldn’t stay dead, but he had to be there.

Time went even faster after that. He was Gegg, or maybe Gegg was him, or maybe Gegg was Gegg, or maybe. . . ?

He went back to eggxile.

He wasn’t leaving without them. Tilín. Juanaflippa. He would do whatever was necessary. He would pray to any higher power. Lil J still owed him a goddamn favor, but the guy wouldn’t pick up his calls. Maybe if he put more shit in the shrine; angels liked shiny shit, didn’t they? He went back to the mine, where the gasses swirled in his head. He built the shrine. He mined. He built the shrine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

“This is where I sit, this is where my bitch wife sits, and this is where my daughter sits, if I had one!”

He’d said that before. No he hadn’t. Yes he had.

No, he just needed to clear his head.

Charlie Slimecicle went back to the mine.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Officially up to December 24th on the incorrect quotes I've written out to be posted. Progress! Only about 3 more months worth left to write out to post! I got past the hard part for my brain to write out (which was apparently August through November) I guess.