#i've really dropped off of the show

[sunlitmcgee]

would you all call me cringe or stupid or hashtag cancel me if I make a fursona based off of stolas from h*lluva boss but i make them Fat and very fluffy

[stardestroyer81]

Inspired by this post by @artpro86, I wanted an excuse to draw my latest blorbo, Cindy Bear, in a similar fashion... it didn't take me too long to be struck with an iconic reaction image to redraw with her instead.

[sskk-manifesto]

And so the big sskk shortage begins (no sskk for the next 15 episodes) (and the sskk episode coming after kind of sucks)

[jackgarlond]

hmmm I do not see how I'm going to be able to make it to 26

[californianedgeworth]

the amount of people who point out Steven as some kind of money hungry villain manipulating Shane and Ryan in the whole Watcher debacle is so annoying. clearly they just liked Shane and Ryan a lot better and want to take culpability away from them. but all 3 of them made this decision, as far as we know they're all equally accountable. stop making conspiracies based off people's lives you don't know so you can continue to justify your parasocial relationship jfc

[aphelea]

i finally watched good omens and am now a little bit obsessed with it holy shit

[ourceliumnetwork]

so i got a visa giftcard for my birthday and i was like putting off activation before i read it last night and learned i didn't have to do anything to activate the card so i was going to put it into my wallet and have it (the mag strip was slightly damaged so i wasn't sure it if would work right but i was going to give it a shot and if it didn't i was going to figure out if i could replace it).

and somewhere between me deciding it was going to finally go into my wallet last night and me rooting through my purse for it before i got tim hortons this morning it just up and completely disappeared. It's entirely possible that it fell out of my wallet while i was getting gas but i don't know and since i hadn't like set it up online to have backup protection and i no longer have the card itself, i don't know if i can even replace it. So i might just Hope It Shows Up and that i was just somehow REALLY unobservant somewhere along the line. because without it i don't think i can get a replacement. which sucks cause that's $50 birthday money i could have used.

ah well. at least i got my coffee drink

[navree]

olivia cooke's career trajectory is kinda insane to me cuz she was in a niche but tumblr/online space popular show, then a hipster movie based on a hipster novel during the hipster novel/movie craze, then she did a few projects that really SHOULD have elevated her to massive stardom (she was in a highly anticipated spielberg movie at the height of 80s nostalgia! she was second billing in a movie that got nominated for a bunch of oscars and won some too!!) but legit didn't do anything, then a bunch of small british projects, then she gets cast in a prequel to a show that fell out of public consciousness the second it ended but as soon as the show's press tour started all of a sudden BOOM! insta-celeb.

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

haven't been sad like this in a long time

[variouspositions1984]

im watching netflix's 3 body problem and it sucks

[iid-smile]

megumi always comes to your dorm room after a mission. nowadays, you don't even flinch when you hear your door open, accompanied by an irritated sigh or just... silence. however, a sound you're not used to is a pitter patter of liquid dropping onto your wooden floors.

with a glance up from your phone, the sight of a very much soaked, grumpy megumi is visible to you. his hair is completely drenched and flat, except from the odd strand here and there. "why are you wet?" you ask quietly.

"rain."

as soon as he responds, you're up on your feet, approaching him. "you're dripping, baby..." you coo, subconsciously coddling him as you already make a start on drying him up with a nearby towel. "where's your umbrella?"

if it were any other person, he would've squinted away already, but something about you is just different. in a good way, of course. really, he could get lost in your eyes any day. "forgot it here." he lowly mutters through clenched teeth. he's trying not to show how much the rain affected him.

and then it clicks. the black umbrella that's been beside the door the entire day.

immediately, your lips form into a pout. "my baby..." though your gaze is fixed on his face, his cheeks, nose and ears flushed a bright red, your hands were busying themselves, constantly patting and rubbing. "you'll be sick tomorrow. it's cold out there."

almost as if he could no longer hold the eye contact, he looks off to the side, his voice a low mumble of near guilt. "sorry."

"don't be. don't need to ask to shower either." you usher him towards the bathroom. "i've already got enough of your clothes to spare, so you can just stay over."

before you can close the door, you notice he's got a somewhat sulky expression. if there's one thing you know about megumi, is that he tends to not voice what he actually wants. "yes, we can cuddle afterwards. just warm up first, okay?"

for the first time in a few hours, he smiles, pulling the door handle himself.

[starlit-mansion]

i still keep getting recommended posts about the james somerton debacle (unsurprising) and i swear to god, at this point i've spent more time trying to remember what my reaction was to watching his yoi video a while back while half-sleep deprived or smth than i a) spent watching the video and b) spent thinking about any other creator i watched one mid video from and ignored after

[lostfracturess]

beneath the mistletoe — satoru gojo

having a crush on your brother's best friend is bad enough. having that best friend look better at every family dinner is just cruel. but worst of all? he's noticed your not-so-subtle staring.

It should be illegal how Satoru Gojo manages to look better every goddamn single Christmas dinner.

You watch him over the rim of your glass as he throws his head back laughing at something your aunt just said, the sound rich and warm like honey. And it doesn't help that he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, giving you a perfect view of his unfairly handsome forearms.

Your grip tightens on your glass as he runs a hand through those perfect white strands of his, and you catch yourself wondering, not for the first time, if they're as soft as they look.

It's been like this for years now — ever since your brother Suguru first brought his college roommate home for the holidays, Satoru's own family being overseas.

Now he's practically part of the family, showing up to every gathering with that infuriating smile and those stupidly blue eyes that seem to find you no matter where you are in the room.

You deliberately focus on your plate, stabbing a potato with perhaps more force than necessary. But your eyes, the traitors, keep drifting back to him of their own accord. It's frustrating, really.

Almost impossible not to notice the way his white hair falls just so over his forehead, or how his jaw flexes when he's deep in thought, or the way his throat moves when he takes a sip of wine.

Not that you're looking at his throat.

You're not.

(You totally are.)

And then, because the universe hates you, he catches you staring.

Those blue eyes lock with yours across the table, and his lips curl into a faint smile that makes your stomach flip. You nearly choke on your wine, quickly averting your gaze to study the tablecloth like it's the most fascinating thing you've ever seen.

"Stop staring at my best friend," Suguru whispers as he passes behind your chair.

Shit. Was it that obvious?

After dinner, you escape to the back porch, needing some air that isn't thick with the scent of cinnamon and Satoru's cologne. The winter night is crisp and clear, your breath forming little clouds in the darkness.

You're not surprised when you hear the door open behind you, or when the familiar scent of cigarette smoke wafts your way.

"Those things will kill you, Suguru," you say without turning around.

"That's what I keep telling him," Satoru's voice chimes in, and you turn to find them both strolling onto the porch, your stomach dropping. Suguru takes another deliberate drag of his cigarette, maybe just to spite you both, while Satoru wrinkles his nose.

"Speaking of things that might kill you," Satoru says, "how's that final year of college treating you?"

You try to focus on the question, but it's difficult when the porch light is hitting his eyes just right, making them look impossibly bluer and you have to resist the urge to melt under his gaze.

"It's fine," you manage, aiming for nonchalant. "Just trying to survive my thesis."

"Ah, your thesis." His lips quirk up in that stupidly attractive way of his. "What was your topic again? Something about modern interpretations of folklore?"

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. You mentioned it exactly once, months ago, during summer break. You hadn't expected him to remember.

"Japanese urban legends and their evolution through social media," you correct him, trying not to read too much into the fact that he remembered at all. "Though at this point, it's more like about my own evolution into madness."

Suguru snorts, flicking ash off his cigarette. "Please, you're the only person I know who actually enjoys research. I've seen your color-coded spreadsheets."

"Some of us like being organized," you shoot back.

As if on cue, your aunt's voice carries from inside. "Suguru! Can you come help your father with something?"

Suguru sighs, crushing his cigarette under his heel before heading inside, leaving you alone with Satoru. And suddenly the porch feels much smaller than it did a moment ago.

Great.

"So," Satoru says, shifting closer until his arm brushes yours. "Going to tell me why you've been watching me all night?"

Heat floods your cheeks. "I haven't—"

"You're not as subtle as you think," he interrupts. "I can feel you glaring holes into the back of my head whenever I'm around."

"I don't glare," you protest weakly.

"No?" His voice drops lower as he steps closer, backing you against the porch railing. "Then what would you call it?"

You swallow hard, trying to ignore how good he smells up close. "Curious observation?"

He laughs, the sound sending warmth spreading through your chest despite the cold. "Is that what we're calling it now?" Then his eyes flick up. "Would you look at that?"

You follow his gaze to see a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the porch ceiling, definitely not there earlier today. You're going to kill your mother. Or your aunt. Or your cousin.

Maybe all of them.

"We don't have to—" you start to say, but Satoru's already leaning in, moving into your space with that casualness he's always had, like being this close to you is the most natural thing in the world.

"I've been waiting for an excuse to kiss you since sophomore year," he murmurs. "Please don't ruin this for me."

Oh.

Oh.

His lips meet yours before you can process that confession, soft and warm and tasting faintly of the mulled wine from dinner. Your hands find their way to his chest as he cups your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks as he kisses you like he's been thinking about it for years.

And the truth is, he has.

When you finally break apart, his forehead resting against yours, you say, "Suguru's never going to let us live this down."

"Worth it." Satoru smiles, stealing another quick kiss. "Though I should probably thank him for the mistletoe."

"You knew?"

"Of course I knew. Who do you think helped him put it up?"

You smack his chest, but he just catches your hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Merry Christmas to me," he says with a wink.

And despite yourself, you can't help but smile back. "Merry Christmas, you idiot."

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[cy-cyborg]

So, there's a lot I want to say about the paralypics, but every time I try I just... can't articulate what I want to say without it turning into a monster of a post that puts my writing advice posts to shame lol. This includes in response to the anonymous asks I got on the topic btw. So I'm going to try and summarise my thoughts here.

As someone who was working towards the Rio paralympics - who was basically one of the people they were actively training to be the next paralympians and who got to go if their choice first athletes had to drop out, the Olympics and paralympics are a... touchy subject for me. I loved playing. I loved my sport. I loved the people I played with. I loved the people I played against. But the way the public and people in power treats disabled athletes sucks. It Really really sucks. and it hurts to talk about.

The vast, vast majority of us aren't paid. We are expected to train at the same intensity as the Olympians with none of the breaks and none of the support to do so, resulting in injuries that are disabling in and of themselves, while juggling normal jobs. many of the paralympians are also in school or at university as well. both schools and jobs see these elite athletes as dedicated hobbiests at best.

I had a friend who were fired from their job because they were denied time off to compete at the paralypics and well, if i had to choose between the paralympics or stay at a shit job paying minimum wage, I know which one I'd pick, and so she didnt have a job when she came back. I have friends who are still in the closet because their sponsors would drop them if they came out as gay, who ended years-long relationships to keep the funding that allowed them and their teams to compete - funding that just covered the costs of travel by the way. They never saw a cent of it themselves, but it was the difference between us having to pay $50 each for our plane tickets and accommodation and having to pay $2,000Aud + for every away game. I have friends who were supposed to go to Tokeyo but were kicked off the teams weeks before the games because of a rule change that decided they weren't disabled enough anymore, wasting years of work with absolutely no warning. They weren't even given the decency of an appology from the people who made the call. Several went through terrifying mental health spirals over it. It was their life's work, gone. I saw so many friends just give up because their disabilities were "too hard to classify" into the International Paralympic Commity's boxes and who were made to feel they weren't welcome by the system spouting off about its diversity and inclusion and empowerment of disabled people.

And then with all that, the best we can hope for is for the social media teams to turn us into a joke for ableds to laugh at or into inspiration porn to make them feel good about themselves - because at least theyre not us. Because obviously, there are no other options in how to show us/sarcasm.

My phone doesn't even have "paralympics" as a recognised word. I have a Samsung. The company that is currently at the paralympics using them as a marketing opertunity. We aren't even recognised as a word in the phones made by the company that is currently using the paralympics as a marketing opportunity. The phones they're giving the athletes won't even recognise the name of the event that they got it at. If I've spelt it wrong, it's because it autocorrects it every time I try to spell it right, and im dyslexic and can't see the difference until I stare at it for a minute or so.

I just... this isn't even scratching the surface of my thoughts. But I wanted to say at least some of it. It will be the last I'm going to talk about it, at least until the event is over.

[ducktapeal]

The Walrus v Fairy question really is a perfect example of the Internet Argument. I've been reading a bunch of posts on both sides and it's very clear that everyone is interpreting the question in a way that the other side finds ridiculous. And if you take the read of one person, it makes perfect sense why they'd think it was more/less surprising, and the question become more about agreeing with priors than the actual question being asked. Like, a lot of people saying the walrus is more surprising make comments to the effect of "how did a walrus walk all the way to my house" or "how did the walrus knock on the door". And for folks that think the fairy is more surprising, there's a lot of comments saying they assume the walrus was put there by someone. The question doesn't mention how the walrus/fairy got there, so someone reading it as saying that the walrus knocked is answering a fundamentally different question than the one where someone assumes that a person knocked and then like, hid, or whatever. Likewise, a lot of people on both sides talk about the number of assumptions that each creature's presence brings up. People who think the walrus is more surprising comment a lot saying that a fairy being there is just one fact, that fairies exist, and that the walrus being there involves a huge logistical chain at the very least. Where people who think the fairy is more surprising comment a lot saying that the walrus being there is one fact, that elaborate prank shows exist, where the fairy being there calls into question a lot of biology, as well as the massive and world-spanning coverup that would be necessary to keep fairies out of the public eye if they've been around so long, that it brings up a bunch of existential issues if not logistical ones. People are even disagreeing about the definition of the word "surprising". I saw two posts side-by-side, one basically saying "a huge animal on your doorstep is shocking" and the other saying "fairies existing is way less likely than a walrus being dropped off at my door". Two totally different (and accurate!) definitions of the word, one emphasizing the initial reaction, surprising like a jump scare, the other emphasizing the overall likelihood of fairies versus Mr. Beast's Epic Walrus Prank.

It's just a wonderful thing to watch a hill to die on being raised right before my eyes, and to see a new Airplane Treadmill be born.

[andhumanslovedstories]

for people who also have a mild impulse shopping problem, I've found it useful to identify the itch I want to scratch: is it spending money or is it getting things? If it's spending money, I trick my brain by paying off something I owe. Like a few years back when I was feeling dangerously shoppy, I would drop a big chunk of change as a student loan payment. When I was buying an entire new mouth of teeth, I'd transfer money from my checking to my secret ultra hard to access tooth account.

If paying myself or paying a debt doesn't work, I find a charity or gofundme that's worth supporting. (You gotta be careful with that last one, it's really easy to be spend way more than you should, budget-wise, because it makes spending money feel good morally, which can be an incentive to keep going.) I also like to keep cash on hand so if I see someone who needs money, I can give it to them. It's a financial decision made impulsively for an opportunity I won't get again (giving $20 to this exact person at this moment of need). All this soothes the spending beast inside of me, and I don't deal with the Money Shame that comes with $100 of amazon orders.

If I want to acquire things, I download a lot of research articles I know I probably won't read, or I get an enormous stack of books from the library that would be impossible to finish before I have to return them, or I'll download a bunch of albums I tell myself I'll get to someday. Sometimes it's enough to just make a list of things of things I want to do or own. A list of one hundred movies I've curated from best of lists that in this moment I feel motivated to watch. Add tv shows to my watch list on netflix. Add fics to my "to read" list on ao3. Anything that feels like I'm adding to a hoard.

If I still want to shop, well, I'm probably gonna spend more money than I mean to, but I at least make sure I'm deliberate about my spending. If I'm gonna blow my cash on something, it should at least be worth it. That means either very cool or very useful. And honestly, the things you tell yourself are useful while in the shopping haze are never that useful, so you might as well go for very cool.

This is all to say I fell into a trance last night and this morning woke to receipts and tracking info from etsy dot com. And I am like "yikes." But I did get something that is so so so stupid that I can't wait to show it to you all when it arrives.