cw. none, except for satoru being disgustingly cute.
to outsiders, your relationship with satoru is as much a blessing as it is a curse. it’s a blessing, because even your mere presence causes satoru’s talking to drop by a hefty 80% at the very least. it’s a curse, because satoru only stops his chattering to cling to you.
he wraps his arms around your waist, and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. he holds your hands, and cups his own face with them. he tucks your hair behind your ear and squeezes your cheeks together. he’s so utterly enamoured with you, that words suddenly feel unnecessary. and you let him be.
it’s his way of recharging, of finding little bits of peace in a stressful day. so, you allow him to do as he wishes, and simply continue whatever conversation you are having—as if satoru wasn’t currently biting your finger. you dismiss the looks of disgust people throw at him, finding the way he clings to you like a baby koala oddly endearing.
it’s a custom, by now. a custom that’s loved by the both of you, and only the both of you. so, yes—a blessing and a curse. satoru is quieter when you’re around, but in exchange for a (not so) healthy dose of pda.
pick your poison, as one would say.
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Let yourself breathe 🍃✨ january may soon be over, but we’re still sending you warm wishes into the new year — new #ProjectBluestar 🔷⭐️ is out!
▶︎🎵 breathe.mp3
#ProjectBluestar is a monthly audio-visual collaboration project between visual artist Ivy Berces (@prinsomnia) and singer-songwriter and producer Erin Lee (@erinleemusic). Joined by love for their craft, the duo will be releasing monthly bite-sized pieces in the hopes of spreading warmth with every tiny story they’ll collaborate on. #RinVy
If you’d like to support this project, consider purchasing the songs on Bandcamp! 🔷⭐️
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carmy as a ballet dancer.
WARNING: person online does not know everything about a topic but is imagining their fave characters immersed in the culture of that topic without care.
it’s about control and beauty and practice, practice, practice. he would fit easily into ballet culture with its many imperfections— the body dysmorphia, the constant training, toxic teachers, etc.. he has such an appreciation for beauty and minute detail, and i think he would be both beautiful and talented and hardworking and so horribly overwhelmed by perfection of his body, his form, his performances. i can just imagine him lifting the ballerinas with all of his strength and beauty. completing a number with his everstrong point, arm muscles taut as he holds his end position, arm in the air, a piece of gelled hair brushing his forehead, sweating through his white blouse and vest, controlling his shaky breath, waiting for the crowd to erupt. UGH.
don’t even get me started on ballerina syd 😩😩😩😩😩 so pretty and perfect and strong and silly and smart and talented and hardworking and poised and UGHHHHH maybe she has a bunch of fun leotards or little tie skirts for practice instead of headscarves?!!? idk. she’s perfect.
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Don’t Breathe 2 = what if the evil blind guy was the main character?
Saw X = what if Jigsaw was the main character?
Pearl and X = what if Pamela Voorhees was the main character?
The Others = what if the ghosts in Poltergeist were the main characters?
And now we have…
In a Violent Nature = what if Jason Voorhees was the main character?
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good evening, all. it is May the 25th. our lilacs are blooming, just as the ones at the Watch House did. and I am thinking about remembrance of the fallen, and GNU, and the love in commemoration.
y'know, I read Night Watch… oh, maybe a year ago and some months ago. and the lilac symbolism, the remembrance of the Watch, has always struck me with the depth of the emotion of it, the tangibility of it in the flowers. but I wasn't aware that today was the day until I saw commemorative posts, all that gorgeous artwork and more, on my dash.
I was also not aware, until now, that fans commemorated the day not only because of the book reference, but in support of Terry Pratchett and of those with Alzheimer's. which knocked me over a bit because of course, of course the group that would use GNU to honor him would do that. and… I've been thinking about GNU a lot, lately, and this caught me again.
I read Going Postal a bit ago, and reread it recently. both times, the parts about GNU made me tear up. this idea of the names, the memories, the lives of the clacks workers who dedicated themselves to ensuring that people heard each other's voices—all those names spoken again and again and again by that which they poured their souls into, winging along in the air as they could not, an eternal reminder that they were loved—how could that not touch a person's heart?
when I found out that fans online used it to memorialize him, I damn well cried. hell, I still tear up just thinking about it. do you know, there's a code for an HTTP header "X-Clacks-Overhead: GNU Terry Pratchett" written by Reddit users to put in webpages, where it goes unseen by the average user? and in 2015, when Netcraft took a survey, there were eighty-four thousand websites using it? it's eight years later—how many thousands upon thousands of websites have this now, do you think? how many little cables of light has his name flown along, now? how many times?
that alone is absurdly and unimaginably lovely in its own right, but… there's something else to it. there's something about remembering with the lilac sprigs every year, just as Vimes and those who were there remembered their dead. something about how, when we take up our lilac sprigs, we carry a little piece of the characters in our hearts, too. I kept trying to put my finger on why that makes me tear up the way it does. the conclusion I came to is this:
what greater way to honor a writer is there, but to honor them the way they did the characters they poured their heart and soul into? what better way to say we know you and you are not forgotten and your work and words and gifts to the world are held in our hearts forever than to remember them by their own words, their own vision? how else could we say you embodied all the good you believed in and wished to see in the world, but to memorialize them after the little pieces of their soul they wrapped in ink and put upon the page?
it is a knowing of the writer, to remember them in their way. it is not a worn-out faceless platitude, but a reminder that their work has been read and will continue to be, that the characters and world they loved enough to bring to life last just as their name does. such remembrance is warm and loving and delights in their memory even as it grieves.
and now Pratchett's name has been written in his tradition, over and over and over, across the vast plane of the Internet, where it will—with any luck—continue to fly for generations to come.
there is no way to truly express the beauty of that… but perhaps we can catch a glimpse of it in the lilacs, both ours and the Watch's.
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