#like idk am i mean

[zouisexo]

i need to stop talking to straight people or for straight people to stop talking to me fnsdfkd

[madscientistenthusiast]

Personally I think that Azula should have been redeemed simply so that she can become Zuko's horrible little advisor who whispers evil little plans to him so that he can do the exact opposite

[joshuamj]

Hero.

[hinamie]

tiger lily

[baepsays]

Gojo Satoru sees you for the first time at a mutual friend's party—and immediately his eyes get stuck on you. the entire time he's watching you drink leisurely at the end of the couch, and roll your eyes at the dude bros attempting to flirt with you, while you ignored them.

after 40 mins of staring, he comes up to you and shoves the guy —pathetically trying to get you to sleep with him— off the armrest of the couch you're sitting on. Satoru just ignores the guy shouting at him and and throwing a fit on the floor. he takes a seat on the armrest instead and looks you dead in the eyes, and goes;

"you look like someone who thinks men ain't shit and would probably make a face that alone would make me cry."

you raise one of your eyebrows at him just a bit amused. confused whether he was trying to pick a fight or what else was he trying at. he goes on and continues what he was saying;

"so please fuck me."

.

.

a/n: divider by @/enchanthings-a. to access more of my works-click here.

[solarismp3]

The world is so obsessed with young ppl everything is about what the youth is doing. Everyday id mag is releasing an article on what young ppl in Tokyo are wearing what about middle aged ppl or old ppl who have lived long enough to know the patterns of humanity. Are they not interesting or what

[caffstrink]

je n'ai pas peur, je suis née pour faire ça

[inkskinned]

so i wrote a book that comes out soon and having that be real feels like falling down stairs because i wanted this since i was 7 years old so now what do i want after it.

so tell me why today all i care about is the word trundle, that the word trundle exists. of course i have things to do and emails to send and a world of suffering to protect but today my brain won't let me look away from the sheer linguistic improbability of trundle.

i saw a truck doing it. i imagine animals did it first. or people maybe. to trundle comes direct from old english. cows do it on occasion, but more often sheep (in my experience). someone had to name lope and someone had to name slog. the verbs to run and to leap make sense; they are singular and important distinguishers.

but we can bask rather than relax. we can scuttle rather than crawl. sometimes when i move in dance class it is to undulate rather than roll. someone had to name things like sonder and whimsy. of course we had words for tangible things like tree and grass and root. i love those words, i'm eating them.

i don't know the word for this thing. where it's real-now. sometimes i feel it when i am dating someone i actually like-and-love and i realize that is real, i am dating them and it's real that i like-and-love them. sometimes i have this feeling when i have been planning a vacation or an event for weeks-and-months and it finally happens - the feeling this is happening, it's happening right now.

it happens randomly sometimes too. i will be at the carnival or at an ice cream stand or with the last light of summer in my hair and i will feel it again, that sense - i have waited my whole life for this, and im finally experiencing it, and i need to pay attention to it.

but it's real! how amazing! how horribly tragic! it's real. it exists. the moment is here.

i have no idea what to do with it.

[dreamerdrop]

something about how garak and julian both lead with their worst foot forward as the first impression.

which is why The Wire works so well for them, because it’s both of them on full display in a way that forces them both to accept they either like each other at their most infuriating or they don’t. and turns out, they do like each other, even when they’re both being incredibly aggravating to each other.

julian contends with the reality that garak has likely killed and tortured countless innocent people, will likely never be truly honest with julian about anything ever, and that he can be incredibly venomous and cruel at his worst, and julian decides he still cares about garak and will still be his friend in the aftermath.

garak gets to see how impossibly stubborn and reckless julian can be, how frustratingly dedicated to his ideals of looking after other people he is, how utterly annoying julian can be when he’s got his mind set on something… and garak absolutely walks away deciding these are also julian’s best traits, even if garak thinks they might need tempering for julian’s own good.

they don’t actively consider each other proper friends until they have been forced to look at the parts of each other they might find most off-putting, and they both see that and go “… yeah, i still like him, even more now actually.”

idk there’s something about how they find themselves endeared to each other for the exact same traits that would normally drive others away. they fall in love with the whole picture right from the start. of course, julian can joke about garak having murdered people. he knew that from the word go and decided he liked garak anyway. of course, garak falls deeper in love with julian when he demonstrates his near-suicidal levels of dedication to protecting others, that determination was what sparked garak falling in love to start with.

and they can still dislike parts of that whole, garak definitely wishes julian would be more selfish (for the sake of self-preservation, mostly), and julian doesn’t exactly *approve* of garak doing morally reprehensible things, but… they knew exactly who they were falling in love with and went all in anyway.

something about falling in love with someone from their worst parts so that every time you have to reassess your view of them, it only makes them more lovable.

[oshaskell]

it's so SO fucked up that the buddie thesis of the show has been there since s02 e08 with Thomas telling Buck "you don't find it, son, you make it", and ever since then Buck has found person after person and has kept reaching and reaching for one of them to love him, not understanding why he can't make it work, while at the same time building a home, a haven, with Eddie. he's been making it this WHOLE TIME and 6 seasons later, he STILL thinks he doesn't have it

[apostaterevolutionary]

Okay can I be a bitter Anders fan for like. Just 2 minutes here lmao

Cause bioware released some game stats for veilguard and apparently 72% of players redeemed Solas which is like. Okay yeah the game kinda pushes you towards that. But when I think of all the shit I used to have to put up with just for enjoying Anders like at all and…

(This is not me being anti-Solas, I do not care if you love or hate him, but I am gonna say what he’s done is like. Objectively worse than literally every other companion so lmao. And that’s fine! You can still enjoy him! I’m not saying you can’t and it’s important to me that people understand that! I’m just saying he did in fact do objectively morally worse things in game than Anders did and I don’t think that’s really debatable. And I can’t really make my point here without saying that but I do want to make it clear this is not some moral condemnation of Solas enjoyers cause it’s not)

Getting anon hate on the regular, being told “oh you’re allowed to like Anders as long as you regularly talk about how much he sucks”, people gleefully describing how much fun they have killing him ON your posts about the fact that you like him, the devs making jokes about shitty fates for him when fans asked innocent questions about him, the absolute audacity of his writer to say half the shit she did in interviews (about bisexuality and mental illness, most critically), and then being beaten over the head again in inquisition about how Anders is the worst character to ever exist and there’s no redemption for terrorists who lie to you one time in the entire game and he deserves death or worse and that’s it

And now… 72% of people are down to redeem the guy who lies to you for 2 games straight and who did a lot of questionable things that includes creating the fucking blight and. Like. I guess I’m glad that Solas fans can live in a world where they aren’t constantly harassed and can give their ship like. A pretty damn good ending all things considered. And that the devs love Solas and actually give the option for that happy ending and have characters go to bat for Solas throughout the game and the most annoying thing they have to see are people making scrambled egg memes. I would not wish anyone to have to deal with the shit Anders fans had to put up with back then cause it sucked. It really sucked. And I’m glad it’s not being repeated with a different character, if nothing else

But like. Man there really is a difference when the writers actually like the character who does the thing, huh

[shouyuus]

vague continuation of this; sfw; angsty; apt neighbor!vi au

apartment neighbor!vi who comes home with bloody knuckles and a split lip, bruises the color of overripe plums blossoming along her cheek. you catch her in the elevator, once, running downstairs to grab a taco bell delivery at 2am, and she's just coming home. at first, you almost don't recognize her, with her hood pulled up, her shoulders scrunched up towards her ears, her body a live-wire tangle of tensed muscles and clenching fists.

apartment neighbor!vi who, when you ask her what's wrong, does everything she can to avoid the question, dodging and making up excuses, looking anywhere but at your eyes --

"just got into it with some dude at the bar -- you know how it gets rowdy sometimes."

you stare at her, a frown digging into the space between your brows.

"violet, you can look at me?"

it takes her a beat too long to comply, her fingers stretching open before curling back into her palms as she forces her face towards you, her expression stony as a tomb.

"i'm looking."

you let your eyes flicker between both of hers, and a few seconds later, you throw your hands up in a classic sign of surrender, shaking your head.

"alright, alright -- i won't ask --"

you hear her let out an audible exhale; you glance up to catch her mourning dove eyes watching you from beneath her thick, night-lanced lashes.

"i was thinking of trying to make hainanese chicken and rice this weekend."

vi grins, her shoulders relaxing, her posture loosening like a picked-out knot, "sure -- i'm free on saturday. what do you need?"

apartment neighbor!vi who is not slick, no matter how hard she tries to pretend. and the first time you come knocking at their door on a sunday afternoon, powder answers with a power drill in one hand, a capri-sun in the other.

"oh. its you," she falls a few steps back, waving her power drill haphazardly through the air, "c'mon in! make yourself at home! vi's not here -- if you're wondering. she's..." powder scoffs, an utterly disbelieving, derisive sound, "out."

you pause by the kitchen counter, staring at the pile of dishes in the sink for a second before your gaze swings back to powder, now bending over a strange contraption laid out in a million pieces on the living room floor.

"what do you mean, she's out?"

powder makes a noncommittal sort of grunting noise as she leans in to fit a screw to the tip of the drill, squinting as she presses it to what looks like a slab of broken-off drywall --

"i mean she's out -- doing whatever the hell she's doing... thinkin' she can just lie to us -- ugh, as if --" her voice trails off into a mutter, as if she's talking to herself, and a second later, all sound is drowned out by the drone of the power drill screeching as powder sets to work again.

you stare for a solid three seconds before sighing and turning back to the dishes in the sink. it takes about fifteen minutes before powder turns back around to realize that you're still here --

"what... are you doing?" she asks. you jump, jerking forward at the sound of her voice right next to your ear.

"oh shit! sorry -- uh -- i, i thought i'd help do these while vi's out -- it looks like they've been stacking up for a while," you offer, somewhat weakly as powder squints at you, leaning forward with apparently zero compunction for invading your personal space.

"huh. you're... a weird one -- has anyone ever told you that?" powder asks, falling back onto her heels, giving you a hard once-over. you lick your lips, feeling an unfamiliar heat creeping up the length of your spine.

"i -- i mean, vi helped me a lot when i was moving in so..." you lean a hip against the kitchen counter, a half-washed mug still held aloft in your right hand.

"right... and that's why you're..." powder's smile hooks, her eyes flashing bright as beatle-wings , "helping us with our dishes?" she jerks her chin towards the soapy mug.

you flush, turning back to rinse off the mug and set it on the rack to dry.

"it'll be one less thing for you guys to worry about."

apartment neighbor!vi who refuses to see you for days at a time, even though you text to ask her if she's alright (she leaves you on read). then, miraculously, she'll show up at your door on a tuesday night with an apologetic grin dominos (and all your favorite toppings), asking if you had any plans (she knows full well you don't -- you two have a standing movie-date on tuesday nights, though neither of you have had the balls to call it a date).

apartment neighbor!vi who makes up the dumbest excuses -- i was outta town, i got the flu, i was visiting my long lost... uh... cousin in... nebraska.

"nebraska?" you pause over a bite of pizza, eyes flicking up to catch vi watching you. the moment your gazes meet, she looks away, clearing her throat and reaching out for another slice, folding in half before shoving nearly the whole thing in her mouth.

"yeah -- my uh -- my dad's brother's... kid..."

"uh huh," you say, nodding around another skeptical bite, picking off a piece of pineapple to pop into your mouth.

vi sighs, "just... it's complicated, okay?"

you purse your lips, licking at the pizza grease, "you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, vi -- i just wanna know that you're... safe."

she chuckles, a ragged, mirthless sound, "thanks for worrying about me, sugar -- but i'll be okay."

you swallow passed your last mouthful of pizza, reaching for a napkin. you do not try to point out that okay and safe are two completely different things.

apartment neighbor!vi who goes to the gym an inordinate amount -- whenever you text her, it seems like she's at the gym. and whenever you pass by the large glass doors on the 5th floor, she's almost always there, going at one of the punching bags or doing some insane lift or other.

"are you a fitness influencer or something?" you ask one day as vi lounges on your couch (you know, the one she helped you build), watching as you pipe icing onto the tops of a dozen cupcakes (it's become something of a thing for her to come over on the weekends -- at least the one's she doesn't disappear -- and watch you "stress-bake"; and if the things you're stress-baking just so happen to be all of vi's favorites... well, that's neither here nor there).

"huh?"

you glance over your shoulder, your hands paused over the large plastic bag of cream-colored icing.

"you're always at the gym, so i thought you might be --" you shrug, "i dunno -- training for something or like a fitness influencer or something." you go back to your piping.

"oh!" vi's voice pitches unnaturally high before she clears her throat and settles back on to the couch, a scowl slotted between her brows, her eyes fixed on her phone screen even though her finger hasn't moved in a solid half minute, "nah -- i just -- it just helps me clear my head, y'know. gotta... train the body before you train the mind."

you nod, keeping your eyes fixed on the cupcakes as you flourish through the final bit of icing, reaching out with a finger to snag an extra bit from the tip, turning only to find vi hovering behind you, a strange, halfway-light caught behind her eyes.

wordlessly, you offer her your finger. and without ever breaking eye-contact, she leans down to lick the frosting from you. her tongue swirls around the pad of your finger and you feel a gasp stitch up the front of your chest.

"g-good?" you ask, cursing silently at your inability to keep the stutter from your voice.

vi licks her lips, the flash of her tongue across her lips shouldn't look so stomach-churningly delicious. and yet --

she gives her head a single, abortive nod.

"yeah... really good..." her voice comes out a whisper, barely more than a caught breath in the air between you. it hangs, pendulous as a pearl on a gossamer gold string, until --

"y-you should take some back for powder -- i know she likes sweets almost as much as you do, and some for --" you swallow, falling back half a step, your hip bumping into the kitchen counter; you wince, and vi's arm shoots forward, but she pauses just short of touching you, her palms hovering over your arm for a brief second before she tucks it into her hoodie pocket and forces a grin.

"yeah! for sure -- she'll -- she'll appreciate it, and -- i'll grab some for uh -- vander and --" she waves a hand; you nod, gulping down air as you turn and scramble to grab a box for her, busying your hands so you don't give into the inexplicable urge to reach out and touch her, to feel her skin beneath your fingertips.

"yeah, great!" you chirrup, your voice saturated with false cheeriness.

the moment unfurls in slow motion, her reaching out to try and help you grab the tupperware box on the highest shelf, you dropping back down and turning around to tell her it's alright --

your chests press, your noses are so close they might as well be touching. you can taste the sweet of her breath against your tongue -- frosted vanilla sugar.

apartment neighbor!vi who kisses like she's trying to swallow you whole, who presses you back into the hard marble of your kitchen counter with a hand on your hip, the other skating up the length of your spine to cup at the back of your head, cradling you closer. who moans low and long and desperate when you finally gasp open for her and she gets that first, mind-rending taste of your mouth against hers.

she kisses you like she want's to break you. she kisses you like she wishes you'd break her too.

her lips are trembling when you pull back for a heady breath, a soft laugh puffing out of you at the sheer incredulousness of the entire situation -- weeks of held-breaths and averted eyes, jumping pulses and late-night movie dates, of knees pressing, the back of your hand skimming along the back of hers.

of uncertainty. of this celestial dance, you and her, like twin stars in orbit, to a song old as the universe itself.

but there's a hardness crystalizing at the edge of her voice as she swallows, her throat bobbing around a hissed our breath --

"shit --" she pulls back, and you have half a mind to chase her. she tastes like cupcake frosting and a life's worth of words unsaid.

she runs a hand through her hair, her eyes fractured in the mid-afternoon light.

"vi?" you ask, and your voice seems to jolt her out of her strange reverie. but as her gaze focuses back on you, an crumpled expression flashes across her face as her hand flies up to rub over her mouth, as if she can still feel the phantom heat of your lips on hers.

she shakes her head, taking another step back. you feel something inside you shatter as she turns and heads for the door, her shoulders hunched, her fists clenched at her sides.

"vi -- wait --!" you call after her, stumbling after her, but she turns to slate you a glance that rhymes so much with heartbreak it stops you in your tracks and roots you to the ground.

she lets out a shuddering breath, her voice unsteady as she says --

"i'm -- i'm sorry but -- i -- i can't do this --"

and then she's gone, the door clicking shut behind her, the batch of freshly frosted cupcakes sitting on the kitchen counter, the cupboard with one door open, as if waiting for something other to happen but this.

you blink, stunned at the sudden silence that permeates the air of your living room. you stare at the place where vi had been just a few ago before slumping back against the counter with a dull thunk and pressing a hand to your own mouth.

you can still taste the remnants of sugar on her tongue as she'd licked into your mouth. and for long moment, all you can muster into the accusatory quiet is --

"what the fuck was that?"

[u3pxx]

KIM KITSURAGI - “Is that. My kineema.”

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - Something in him is about to break, *big time*.

EMPATHY - And it’s not going to be pretty, do something!

- DRAMA [Formidable] - Everything is fine!

- “Sure is.”

DRAMA [Formidable: Failure] - Surely he’s aware that he’s not the *only* person in the world who owns a Kineema?

YOU - “Is it really *yours*? I mean, plenty of people have their own Kineemas, right? Like working men, government offices, uh, firefighters I guess, maybe even animal control people? Exactly! A million different people who could’ve driven it into the uh…”

DRAMA - Pause, my liege! Ixnay on the Ineemakay!

YOU - “It could even be our *mysterious* joyrider!”

KIM KITSURAGI - Your frenzied babbling falls deaf to the lieutenant's ears. Instead, he approaches the broken vehicle, sunken in the ice. He moves with a caution and gentleness you haven’t seen him display before.

INLAND EMPIRE - It must be cold and lonely down there, in the icy water. Maybe he could sense its sorrow, calling to him…

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Easy: Success] - His hands, which are always stiffly placed behind his back, are trembling.

ENDURANCE - This is the shuffle of a tired, tired man.

HALF LIGHT - He’s going to do something drastic because of you. Oh god, terrible! You’re a terrible liar! You can’t look at this, you just can’t!

VOLITION [Formidable: Success] - It's not *you* who drove his kineema into the sea. You have plenty of faults, but this one is decidedly not yours.

KIM KITSURAGI - He kneels down with his head bowed, casting his face in shadow. He plants a hand on the ice to stabilize himself, squinting to get a better view of the motor carriage. “Detective, it says ‘57’ on it.”

YOU - Sweat drips down your brow, and you feel a terrible headache coming. “Maybe our joyrider has an affinity for that number?”

LOGIC - He's not stupid, he knows that it's not that.

KIM KITSURAGI - “57.”

YOU - “What about 57?”, you brace yourself.

KIM KITSURAGI - “Precinct 57.”

YOU - You wince. “Kim, look-”

KIM KITSURAGI - “When I woke up in the Whirling-in-Rags with no memory of what happened during the days before, I've taken note that something of mine has gone missing.” He grits his teeth. "A very. Important. Something."

He runs his hands over his face, messing his already unkempt hair in the process. Regret creeps up on his features. “God. Fuck. They’re going to fire me over this, they’re not going to hear me out.”

EMPATHY - Desperation settles in the lieutenant's tone. Sadly, you find yourself in agreement, even if you don’t want it to be the truth.

YOU - “People are more valuable than machines, Kim.”

KIM KITSURAGI - “Not people like me.” He rasps.

YOU - “…”

KIM KITSURAGI - Before you can say anything more, you fail to notice the lieutenant carefully walking onto the edge of the ice. He looks over the frigid water, a dizzying blue that mirrors and distorts his exhausted face back to him.

YOU - “Kim?”

KIM KITSURAGI - Seconds pass as he looks to be contemplating something. Out of nowhere, he casually takes another step where the ice ends and the sea begins. It happens all too quick for the lieutenant to even voice a call for help— if he even wanted to — his body plunging into the cold water before your eyes.

YOU - “KIM!!!!”

uhhh bonus stuff? sorry i have swap au brainworms pfttt

(im not sure what skills kim has at the moment so rn he only has narration as his inner monologue ok whoops, i would like to keep harry as the guy who thinks in dialogue trees so im still figuring it out pfttt)

also, this was done bc i wanted to expand on these old scribbles of mine, just like an idea, i just think that he'd be having an even worse time wheezes

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

I was lied to. I thought that the cup bros were twins but it turns out they AREN’T, so the entire reason I even drew these sketches in the first place has now been rendered SUPERFLUOUS.

[buppkizz]

a very small engiespy moment...

[bacchuschucklefuck]

while teen while goblin while aroace while injured while doing your best