#it's 1am and I'm sad
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ohmyemilydeschanel · 23 days ago
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I've been obsessing over a movie and an actress lately (okay, it's been more than two months but in my defense she just became the first Brazilian to ever win a Golden Globe) and I've been feeling too much of a weirdo around people in real life because all I want to talk about is this movie and how wonderful, talented, gorgeous and funny Fernanda Torres is (not online, I can always count on people being weird online). But I feel like I don't really have anybody to talk to about any of it so I keep bothering my poor family with videos and articles. It makes me sad. I wish I had a friend, a girlfriend, some crazy person just like me who wasn't afraid to show their weird side, someone who'd also share their weird obsessions with me because yes, I'd love to know what that actress said that one time on that old interview, and yes I'd love to know how they shot that very important scene that changed the movie, I'd LOVE to talk about shit like that
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eg515 · 5 months ago
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don't you just love it when a series has a good ending that takes care of all of its characters, shows how their futures will look like, ties up all loose ends, reminisces about old times, references important moments from before, and brings back elements of the very first episode, giving a nice frame to the whole series?
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sherlock-is-ace · 5 months ago
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#idk if it's because i've given autism a very in depth look now or if i just always been like this and never really thought about it#but i'm finding it harder and harder to match my feelings to what i guess i'm supposed to feel?#like when something sad happens and i have no reaction to it#it's not that i'm not sad or that i'm glad it's happening but i just have no feelings?#which in turn bring put feelings of guilt because i'm not sad or worried enough...#it's such a weird experience and i'm of course not saying that autistic people have no feelings#that's so not what i'm saying#but it is a trait of autism to have difficulty pinpointing what you feel and also difficulty expressing it in ways other people usually doit#so perhaps it is because i've learned about that that I'm accepting that maybe i just don't feel things ''the normal way''#but i'm having a weird one tonight because my mom had to leave because of an emergency with my grandma#and it's 1am right now#and i am worried. of course i am. I don't want my grandma to suffer (although i have accepted she's not gonna live much longer)#but i still don't want her to die obviously#and most importantly I don't want my mom to have to go through that... to see her mother die? that's horrible#i'm obviously sad and worried#yet i'm sitting here drinking coffee and laughing at funny videos like nothing's happening#and i feel fine... like as if my mom was just sleeping at home like every night and not at a hospital visiting her dying mother...#and i know that years back i would have gone ''what the fuck is wrong with me?!'' and perhaps maybe forced myself to feel worse#or to cry or whatever because I can't be chill when something bad is happening...#and maybe i'll feel that way when my mom is back because I can't be calm and happy is she's sad#that would be rubbing it in her face#so maybe i'll feel more guilty then?#idk it's a weird feeling that i wanted to put into words#mostly for when it happens again i'll have a record of it somewhere#idk#angel talks#personal
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scrawnytreedemon · 1 year ago
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Seriously tempted to make a highkey detached headcanon/pseudo-analysis post regarding Zant and gender. Probably a bad idea.
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I made emotion so sonas as I would imagine them in my brain. I have lost control in my life
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warning-heckboop · 3 months ago
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Sorry for literally never posting anything worth anything for my fop aus or anything else recently, I always tend to do this with abrupt highs and lows with inspiration and motivation, I'm not going to be offended if you followed me expecting more content but feel the desire to unfollow me now
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disorganised-bagel · 4 days ago
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trying to write something. question mark
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darkacademiaarchivist · 1 month ago
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im Sensing it is a yearning hour for you also
how could you tell djsjdjsjsjdj...
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movietonight · 1 month ago
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Thinking about how og timeline Cheongah had to endure two more years of intense isolation and language deprivation and abuse. She ended up with a loving family but it was still two more years of agony before that. She clearly never talked to her son about it but did Yichan know? Did she ever open up about it to anyone? Did she just cut ties with her family and never looked back? Did she have to learn to suppress her fight or flight reflex? To accept love? Did she have to do that alone and in secret? Did she pretend to not get scared or angry when reminded of her past?
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figachilles · 2 months ago
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im like vibrating in my seat rn. it feels like the heyday of my lower decks hyperfixation again i'm so happy i'm so fucking happy there's nothing in the world i love more than this show. they made it out of love for star trek and it shines through in every fucking way. i want to talk about it i want to rewatch the whole series i want to start writing fics and making edits again. i want to get up and run around in circles.
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belleandsaintsebastian · 2 months ago
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me when ocd mood swings make me feel actually crazy 👍👍👍
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blackjackkent · 1 year ago
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The city is hovering on the edge between summer and autumn, and the night has just the slightest hint of a chill on the air as Hector climbs the stairs to the balcony of the Singing Lute Inn, where Karlach told him to meet her.
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She's already seated at the table; he can see her fidgeting nervously as he approaches, and her head snaps up, startled, at the sound of his footsteps. Then the nerves are wiped from her face as she grins brightly.
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"Hi. Hi! You made it!" she says eagerly. Leaning forward, she pushes back the chair next to her at the table; her eyes run over him from head to foot, drinking in the sight of him in this place so far from camp or combat. "You look nice," she murmurs.
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Hector has been nothing but excited to come out and spend this time with her, ever since she suggested the idea - but now, to his own surprise, he feels a pleasantly warm, bashful feeling settle into his chest and realizes he is blushing a little.
Their relationship has been rather backwards and jumbled, he reflects. Months of hoping, wishing, pining after someone he could not even touch, let alone have... and then the collapse, barely over the course of a day, into passionate love - which was new enough for him, when it happened. This, a more traditional romantic moment, is perhaps even more unfamiliar to him now. But unlike so many of the things he has faced that were new and terrifying... this is new and joyful, because it is with her. He is safe, with her eyes on him, no matter what.
"So do you," he murmurs, looking back appreciatively, and he is gratified to see a similar dark flush rise in her cheeks as well at the compliment.
"Thank you," she answers with a bright smile. Shifting nervously in her seat, she picks up the menu hastily and peruses it with an intense studiousness.
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"Hmm. Baldurian seafood stew. No thank you..." She peers at him over the top of the sheet. "What do you think you'll have?"
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He is conscious of the surreal feeling that they are performing a play for each other, each of them trying to sort out what "acting normal" entails, with a little warm thrill as they successfully hit each beat in the scene. "The grilled rothe ribs sound good," he says with a slight smile.
She grins with an air of relief. "Just what I had in mind," she agrees. She waves eagerly at the innkeeper, a broad and rather surly orc gentleman. "Two of the rothe ribs, please," she says firmly. "And two glasses of..." She pauses, looks questioningly at Hector.
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"Wine," Hector puts in, pointing at the item on the menu.
"And two glasses of wine," Karlach finishes, and nods with satisfaction.
As the bartender stalks off, she leans forward, resting her elbows on the edge of the table. Her eyes narrow, taking on a playful air as she starts to relax into the moment.
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"So... you're an adventurer, right? How's that going?"
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Hector grins, mildly bemused. "You've been by my side for a lot of it, you know," he points out.
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She gives him an gentle nudge in the shoulder. "I know, but this is our *first date*, remember?" she says conspiratorially. "Tonight, you're a mystery to me."
His eyebrows lift in understanding, and he opens his mouth to try and answer in kind, continue the conceit of them being strangers to each other... but then he stops, and grins sheepishly. He's neither actor, liar, nor orator at the best of times, and if he is honest, he is finding the way she is looking at him... distracting.
"I'm not sure I can pretend I don't already love you," he says ruefully.
She hesitates, then laughs, shaking her head. "It's all I can do to keep my hands to myself anyway," she answers, and snorts softly. "We're terrible at this."
He reaches out, puts a hand on hers on the table, grinning at her slight discomfiture. "Want to get out of here?" he says teasingly.
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Her eyes widen and her face flashes through a mix of eagerness and determination in rapid succession. "No! ...Yes-- No. We came to have a nice date, and that's what we're going to do." She crosses her arms over her chest and looks at him with a stubborn smirk. "Go on. Date me. I dare you."
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Hector laughs softly. "You're right. So... erm... where did you grow up?" he tries, after a moment's thought, trying to determine what he might ask her if he had never met her before, if the scent and warmth of her were still things he had yet to experience. This is still not his strong suit - but he will make the effort if it will make her happy.
She brightens up excitedly and settles back into the moment with only a little awkwardness.
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"Right here in Baldur's Gate, more or less," she says, gesturing out to the view of the city below them. "My folks are long gone now. But they raised me in the Outer City. Dad was a porter in town, mum did laundry." She smiles nostalgically. "Still think of her when I smell clean sheets. We were poorer than dirt, but my gods we had fun."
He leans back in his seat, just enjoying listening to the sound of her voice, her excitement, her happiness at being back in the city, all washing over him. He's heard some of this from her before - but not all of it. Perhaps this 'pretending to be strangers' bit has even more merit than he expected.
"What about you?" she asks him curiously.
(A/N: The three options here are "much like yours," "i don't like to talk about my past," and "I'm from baldur's gate too, I wonder if we crossed paths"; none of these are actually relevant to Hector's experience of growing up at the monastery. So we're going to skip over this line. XD )
He has told her some things about his life among the monks of Silverlight before - but fairly little about his childhood there. He finds himself starting to talk about it now, though. He has no real stories of joy and excitement like those she describes, and on some level he has started to realize just how barren his life was in these particular regards until he met her... but there were good memories too. He ends up telling her a little about the lessons he received - how he started being trained as a scribe before they discovered his fascination with the ancient tomes and texts of their historical library...
She listens with rapt fascination, just as he had listened to her, a slight, blissful smile on her face.
It's hard to say how long they sit there, caught in the conversation, trading stories back and forth; both of them have started to relax into this 'first date' conceit and Hector feels his cheeks starting to hurt from smiling. They're only interrupted by the eventual arrival of their food... which is wrong.
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Two plates of seafood stew land on the table in front of them, along with the two glasses of wine. Karlach looks down at the plate with an air of some disappointment - but is met with a curse from the irritable innkeeper who stalks away when she tries to ask for a change.
Hector can see her struggling to mask the disappointment at the meal not quite going as planned, and she forces a smile back onto her face.
"Worst guy I ever met," she mutters wryly. "How about a toast?"
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But, frazzled, she moves too fast, and the wine glass slips from her fingers as she goes to lift it, sending a spray of pale purple across the table - and over her lap. "Oh, SHIT," she snaps, and Hector can hear her voice crack.
Frowning, he reaches out and takes her hand in both of his. He can feel the increased heat of the engine in her palm and knows it for a sign of her agitation, and his thumbs drift over her knuckles gently, soothingly. "We can use my glass," he says mildly, and reaches to lift it between them. "To us."
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He can see her relax, his voice and touch pushing away the frustration in favor of something warmer. She smiles slightly, nods agreement as he makes the toast, and her eyes track his intensely. The conceit of the first date is gone abruptly, and he sees the full depth of feeling in her eyes, everything they have built together in the months that he has been hers.
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"May we live every day as if it were our last," she says softly. "'Cause you never know when your last will come." Before he can respond, she pushes up from her chair and leans across the table to press her lips against his fiercely.
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As always, the oblique reference to how little time they have left makes his heart twist in his chest -- but now it is his turn to push that down and away. It has no place here. This moment is for her - for them - to feel, just for a little while, like they can say anything, do anything... like just for one night they are not trapped in the raging river of fate that is dragging them along.
Just for tonight, he thinks, and kisses her deeply, one hand sliding into her hair. Just for tonight... we have all of time ahead of us...
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It must be nearly two in the morning, he reflects vaguely sometime later, as he peers out at the curve of the moon and its position slowly descending towards the west. He's barely been aware of the passage of time; the last few hours have been some of the happiest of his life. Just like she promised... no monsters, no fights, no fears, just them, together, talking about whatever comes to mind, each sentence punctuated by a brush of fingertips against a hand or a cheek, a stolen kiss, a sip of wine...
And of course, the seafood stew, which really is dreadful, but certainly filling.
Karlach leans back in her chair with a heavy, contented sigh. "That was great," she mumbles, and flicks a glance at Hector with a slow smile. "The food and the company."
They've both had a little too much wine, really. Hector's lips have been fixed in a permanent, slightly giddy grin for at least the last hour. All the dark thoughts are far behind him now and he feels as if he is simply drifting, content to be near her, and has been forever, and will be forever still.
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"Lovely having a normal evening amid the chaos..." he says quietly.
She smiles wryly. "Whatever do you mean? We're just two normal people... living normal lives... very, very normally."
But she can't maintain the facade again; her voice cracks just a little, and she reaches out abruptly, putting her hand over his on the table.
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He stirs slightly, the happy buzz fading as he registers something serious and sad coming into her eyes.
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"I know I can't stay forever," she says quietly. There's no attempt at jocular humor this time, no wry deflection or avoidance. Her voice is soft and flat, full of love and full of grief. "Here. With you. In fact, I feel like..." She swallows. "Like I don't have long left at all."
His face spasms with a failed effort to contain the fear that floods through him at those words. Every moment he knows it is on the horizon, and yet hearing her speak of it directly, as something looming even closer than before, feels like a dagger through his heart.
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Her hand tightens around his, pulling him a little closer to her. "We've been through so much," she goes on. "And the worst is yet to come. I have every reason to feel terrified, hopeless... like giving up." She draws a breath and lets it out slowly, visibly struggling to keep composure long enough to finish speaking. "But to be here, with you, in the city I love, in this world I love so much... it's all I could really ask for."
She reaches out, cups her hand against his cheek, running her thumb along the edge of his beard. It's an affectionate gesture, of course, but it also serves to pull his face towards her, to nudge open his eyes so they meet hers squarely. "You hear me?" she says, suddenly fierce, her voice cracking again as the emotion starts to overwhelm her. "*You're* all I could ever ask for. I love you... and I know that whatever else this city will throw at us, we can handle it."
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He is listening with such fervent attention that he feels a muscle start to ache in his neck. And though his instinct, whenever this topic comes up, is to recoil into grief... this time he forces himself only to listen, to let her words flow through him and strengthen him.
Maybe it will end. But it meant something. It meant everything. It will always have meant everything...
He will have that to hold onto, when the pain eventually finds him. As it will, no matter how hard he tries to look away.
"I love you too," he whispers unsteadily, looking back into her eyes, his gaze heavy with all the love he feels for her. In almost every other moment, he is so careful with what he shows, how he controls himself... but not here. There is nothing hidden, not from her.
She smiles, kisses him again, slow and deep, then rests her forehead against his. "Come on," she murmurs. "There's something I want to show you upstairs."
He has to take a moment and breathe several times before he trusts himself to speak. "What is it?" he asks.
She laughs, only a little shakily. "I rented us a room for the whole night. Just the two of us -- alone, finally."
In spite of the emotional strain of the conversation, he feels a flicker of eager warmth go all through him, and she grins at the expression on his face.
"After you," he says, and pushes himself unsteadily to his feet.
-----
He has only ever experienced their lovemaking in camp. And he had never had anything to complain of. She has always been more wonderful than he would have words to describe, no matter where they are. He wouldn't have thought to ask for more even if it had been an option.
But this... gods. A soft bed and her warmth all over him, the same hungry eagerness that has marked their previous encounters, and yet... slow.
They had claimed to each other that they were going slow, that first night back in the shadowlands - but it wasn't really. It was rushed and desperate, full of need and urgency - both from desire and from the necessary limitations of sex in a camp full of other people.
This... this is slow. They have all night, and no one to bother them, nothing to distract. He is free to take his time, explore every part of her as she explores him. And the look in her eyes as their bodies meld together is something he will never forget if he were to live to be a thousand years old.
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He loves her... he loves her... he loves her... and he can feel her on the edge of slipping away from him, but he will carry this with him into the darkness when she is gone.
He loves her and he is losing her and he does not know what he will do without her.
But they have this.
They have this...
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metamercury · 11 months ago
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Holy shit i remembered why i don't let myself draw
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mccleans · 2 years ago
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#spent all day helping my best friend move into her new flat#and it was really lovely to be able to be there for her and help her unpack and set everything up#bc her bf (one of my other flatmates) is going travelling for a couple of years in march so obvs he's moving out and they're breaking up#which is why SHE had to move out bc she couldn't afford the rent on a double room by herself#and she's only just moved down the hill like literally a five minute walk which is obviously amazing#she's not ages away yk#and she's moved in with our mutual friend which is nice too#but on a selfish note now i'm left behind in a flat with four 20 year old couples#and i'm now the outside friend like i'm the one who has to go home yk rather than being the one in the home#and i'm just dreading being alone so much of the time like cooking dinner alone and coming home from work and being alone etc#and i'm worried as well that in the new flat they'll get really close and i'll be like forgotten about and left behind#and i know this is all catastrophising and mind reading and all those therapy phrases#but it just sucks. it really sucks#i had to walk home in the rain just now up the hill at half 12 at night#and i cried the whole way because it just all sucks so bad#i knoooooow obviously there's worse problems in the world there's people that are dying kim etc etc#but i'm just very sad about it right now. very very sad about it#so it's 1am and i'm going to sleep and i will wake up at 4am for the match and arsenal better fucking pull through for me#goodnight love u all sleep well appreciate the people in ur life x#also i mean two 20 year old couples lol i don't have eight flatmates
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nyarados · 2 years ago
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the nostalgia this past week has been stupid intense what the hell I need a moment bc truly I miss what it was like 5/6yrs ago (wtf) the craziness that came each night with the voltron fandom my dash moving constantly never stopping the fights the drama the late night screaming it's all nothing but faint memories to me now which although sucks was to be expected.... but even the community?? the deactivated accounts the abandoned blogs we fought alongside each other but I've forgotten people's names they've likely forgotten mine and those I may still recognize I don't know where so many have migrated to.... like sorry this feels stupid but I am really just laying here missing people who I doubt even remember who I was this is embarrassing 🧍🏻‍♀️
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piratefalls · 1 year ago
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just listening to this song and thinking about alex and the way watching his parent's marriage fall apart influenced how he approached relationships in high school and into his early adult years before he fell in love with henry
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