#metaphor rich

[knightlysoulsnatcher]

as non meanly as possible i think it’s funny when i share myself and one of the responses is a song recommendation that… ignores most of my tastes

[leupagus]

On Voting in America

So one of the most profound comments on routine chores that I've ever encountered was, hilariously, the Pickle Rick episode of "Rick & Morty," where (after a lot of shenanigans have already ensued) this therapist absolutely lays Rick out:

"I have no doubt that you would be bored senseless by therapy, the same way I'm bored when I brush my teeth and wipe my ass. Because the thing about repairing, maintaining, and cleaning is: it's not an adventure. There's no way to do it so wrong you might die. It's just work. And the bottom line is some people are okay going to work and some people, well, some people would rather die. Each of us gets to choose."

I think about this at least once a week — usually while I'm doing my laundry or sweeping or some other task that needs doing and won't get me anything more than clean clothing or a dog-hair-free floor. There's no Pulitzer for wiping down your microwave or scrubbing your toilet; no one's awarding you for getting all the dishes out of the sink. At best you have the satisfaction of crossing it off your list.

Voting is very much the same (and I'm talking about the US here, as an American). Sure, you sometimes get a sticker; but nobody's going to cheer for you. There's no adventure here, no potential for anything more than crossing something off of a list. It's a chore, something that needs doing in order to repair, maintain, and yes even clean. So I get why people don't like doing it.

And I've decided I don't give a shit.

Do it anyway. Your country takes astonishingly little from you — taxes, the once-in-a-blue-moon jury duty, and a theoretical draft that hasn't been used in over half a century and likely will never be again — but it asks you (asks! not requires! not demands!) to vote once or twice a year. It's not always easy; especially in conservative states, the impediments to vote can be ridiculous. But it is once a year and unlike in our nation's all-too-recent past, you will not die if you do it.

In fact, the worst outcome from voting these days is that the person or issue that you vote for loses — but you won't know if they lose until after the election. Polls are less accurate now, for a whole host of reasons; you cannot know until after the election who or what will win. This makes your vote more valuable than possibly ever before.

Use that power. Not because it's exciting or even rewarding, but because your vote is what keeps our country's metaphorical teeth from falling out and our metaphorical ass from stinking.

Brush, wipe, vote.

[metanarrates]

new shifting mound dialogue... she's so real for this one

[mollysunder]

The one thing I don't understand about the theory where Piltover and Zaun are teaming up to fight Noxus in the end, is why are Vi and Ekko flying towards Jinx's supposed airship if they're on the same team? Why does Vi NEED to confront Jinx in the middle of a warzone?

We see Ekko in garb that looks like he's on Jinx's side, but we mostly see him with the Firelights in those scenes, and they not decorated in Jinx's colors. Even minor background characters that are on Jinx/Sevika's side have a pink X on the right side of their chest. The Firelights are completely free of any graffiti or markers that would identify them with Jinx, and Vi is in an enforcer uniform. We don't see any other Zaunites in the crowd, but for some reason Vi and Ekko are centering their concentration on Jinx.

I think what's happening is that Ambessa's forces are fighting against Piltover's enforcers, but Jinx isn't helping, she's taking advantage of the chaos. Jinx is probably in Piltover to do something big that Piltover can't defend against since they're preoccupied with Noxus. Jinx will probably think the fight between Noxus and Piltover is the best opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. Vi and Ekko will probably object, they'll say her plan goes too far, and it'll get people killed. The whole scenario will probably be a more extreme mirror to whatever the Silco flashback will reveal about what went down on the Day of Ash and why Vander tried to kill Silco, except this time with magic.

[doctorcanon]

Basilio and Eupha low-key starving for their former sibling dynamics and just...bickering. not arguing. Not fighting but just kinda...bickering. I feel like Eupha's wonder would be good for Basilio and Eupha NEEDS situational awareness like water.

"I don't care how beautiful the bamboo flower was, miss Eupha, you ain't buyin' one..."

"but Basilio, she must feed her ailing children!"

"for the last time, the children weren't ailing, they were grown women stealing your wallet!"

[chknbzkt]

Cw: Animal death, blood and gore

Day 18 of DCA Promptober: Beast

He probably got out while he was in a stupor, he gets stupid hangry fresh after a shift and the local game are always sure to suffer for it

One of Sun’s worst fears is that one day the carcass he comes-to half-devoured is a person. Moon, Monty, and the rest of the glams have been diligent in watching over him on moon weeks for years, but things like this do happen and it haunts his nightmares how easy it is for him to potentially maul someone he cares about

Or worse: share his “predicament” with them

[what-a-random-girl]

if i had a nickel every time i consumed a piece of media where the male protagonist meets a well-spoken man of a higher class than him, crosses the boundaries of the professional relationship they were supposed to have, is later suddenly abandoned by said man, becomes so tortured by the memories of him that he recklessly goes after him, then meets a member of his family on the way, and eventually reunites with him at a museum in europe as they both stare at an art piece – i'd have two nickels, which is not a lot but it's weird that it happened twice

[mhaikkun]

I am better than you think, let me buy you a drink

[iamthekarmapolice]

it’s the reality show competition plot combined with that plot device of recently dead rich powerful person making people play some kind of convoluted game as part of a postdeath condition for me. elite combination of tropes happening here. cheeseburger and chocolate milkshake

[chicago-geniza]

I love to read an 85k femslash fic riddled with grammatical errors that suggest ESL authorship and encounter a line like "God's grace reaches England not without reluctance" (sardonic internal monologue). Magnificent. The fin-de-siecle society novel tradition is everywhere for those with eyes to see

[movementsofmylife]

all i want from ep 9 of jack and joker is one sincere joke smile

[princess-of-purple-prose]

Fish, 7 (For your prompts! ❤️)

Hi, anon!! Thank you for the prompt, you were the very first one to send one in! 7 was, again, the wildcard, so I randomly generated a different number to land on Yue Qingyuan (from Scum Villain)! I have no choice but to dedicate this to @bytedykes, because I told her about this prompt and she said “yqy pet fish mental health speedrun” and we went, uh, a little insane about it. Enjoy some yuefang, folks!!!!

“Mu-xiong,” Yue Qingyuan says. “I’m sorry to bother you. Are you available?”

“Yue-xiong is never a bother,” Mu Qingfang says warmly. “And I am, actually, yes. Is everything okay, Yue-xiong?”

“I think I need help.” A bit dramatic, perhaps, and Yue Qingyuan hates to trouble Mu Qingfang on a rare day off, but Yue Qingyuan and impulse have never been the best combination, and he would appreciate a second opinion.

Mu Qingfang’s voice turns hard. “Where are you? I'll come right away.”

“What—?” Yue Qingyuan stares at his phone like the blank call screen will tell him why Mu Qingfang suddenly sounds so serious. “I'm at home, but—”

“I'll be right there,” Mu Qingfang says, and hangs up.

Yue Qingyuan stares at his phone for another second, then lifts his gaze to his sparkling new aquarium. His new betta, white and black and resplendent of fin, stares back. Was his crisis of faith about his viability as a fish owner really so deserving of such urgency…?

—

“So,” Mu Qingfang says. “This was your emergency?” He looks about as unimpressed by the betta as it does by the two of them.

Yue Qingyuan feels obscurely like he’s being scolded. Mu Qingfang is one of the nicest men he knows, but that just means that his censure takes the form of a blunt instrument of mass disappointment.

“In my defense,” he points out meekly, “I didn’t say there was an emergency. Mu-xiong just assumed.”

“That’ll teach me,” Mu Qingfang huffs, but at least he looks amused. “Yue-xiong should get used to asking for help more so this gege doesn’t have to panic every time he does ask.”

Yue Qingyuan’s mouth almost drops open. He can only hope his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “Er—well, I asked this time, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Mu Qingfang allows, looking something horribly close to fond. Yue Qingyuan swallows and tries to hurry on.

“So—not an emergency, but I do want your opinion,” he coughs out. “I’m having… doubts. About the fish.” Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows contract. Yue Qingyuan rushes it out. “Do you think I should keep it?”

“Yue-xiong…” Mu Qingfang looks politely incredulous. “Why does my opinion matter? The fish is already yours, isn’t it? If you don’t think maintaining its upkeep will be feasible, that’s one thing, but… Surely Yue-xiong did the research before getting it?”

He doesn’t sound judgemental, but Yue Qingyuan feels his cheeks warm. “I did, but I wasn’t planning on getting a fish; I was only admiring the tanks. There was a salesperson who was… very insistent.”

Mu Qingfang regards him doubtfully, which is fair. Yue Qingyuan towers over most people he meets, and his bulk only further adds to the impression of immovability. It’s only when he opens his mouth that it becomes clear how spineless he actually is.

Yue Qingyuan falters. “I had thought… I thought it might be nice.” The bettas had seemed so majestic in their tanks, iridescent monarchs of false grass and plastic coves, and Yue Qingyuan had thought, wildly, that one might be rewarding to keep, might breathe a touch of life into his immaculately sleek living room. The whole affair hadn’t even been expensive by his shiny new standards, forget difficult to physically arrange. It was only when installation and set-up for his new aquarium had finished and he was left to watch that jewel-bright being swim disaffectedly through its new home that doubt had seized him, all-consuming and black. He had, admittedly, panicked a little after that.

(Yue Qingyuan’s apartment is very large, and very clean, and very empty. It holds the barest amount of decoration and muss to qualify as lived-in rather than a snapshot from a magazine ad. The fish may, in fact, be the only thing in the entire place which really qualifies as his. No wonder Yue Qingyuan wanted to jettison it from his life as soon as he got it.)

Mu Qingfang’s expression hovers between concern and simple confusion. “I’m sure Yue-xiong will be a more than adequate caretaker,” he says, more gently than Yue Qingyuan and all his neuroses probably deserve. “What’s this really about, Yue-xiong?”

Ah. There it is. Being the mildest person of Yue Qingyuan’s admittedly sharp-tongued social circle doesn’t preclude Mu Qingfang’s wit from being as keen as the scalpels he works with.

“I don’t…” Yue Qingyuan falters. How to express to Mu Qingfang how manifestly unfit Yue Qingyuan is to care for any living creature at all? He changes tack. “I think he hates me,” he admits dolefully.

Mu Qingfang stares at him for a long time, long enough to imply that he’s reevaluating certain opinions about Yue Qingyuan’s intelligence. “Yue-xiong, with all due respect to your new pet—it’s a fish.”

“Fish have emotions!” Yue Qingyuan argues. He flushes at the volume at which it comes out, and at the way Mu Qingfang’s eyes go wide-eyed in startlement. But the salesperson had been very insistent about that, as well. “Bettas are intelligent animals. They dislike certain colors, apparently, and they’re very sensitive—ah, to environmental disruptions, that is. And—”

Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows are still high, but his face has relaxed into a smile. “It sounds to me like you like it quite a bit already. Isn’t that reason enough to keep it?” His tone curls with sudden mischief. “Have heart, Yue-xiong—you’ve hardly known each other for a day! Give it time to adjust to you, and I’m sure you’ll win it over as surely as you do everyone else.” And he grins, sure and easy in his trust that Yue Qingyuan won’t fumble and shatter something so small and monumental as a life that he could cup in his palms.

While Yue Qingyuan is still dazed by that, Mu Qingfang’s eyes alight with interest. “Ah, Yue-xiong—what have you named it?”

“...”

Mu Qingfang’s face falls as devastatingly as it had lit up. “Yue-xiong…”

“Mu-xiong is aware that I was unsure of whether or not I’d keep him!” Yue Qingyuan is terribly aware that his ears are now heating up to match his cheeks. Mu Qingfang’s ensuing laughter does not help with that matter.

Yue Qingyuan is not very good at holding onto things. More often than not, he makes a mess of whatever he’s set his clumsy hands to, lets it fall right through his scarred fingers. But Mu Qingfang’s words ring through his head: Isn’t that reason enough to keep it? And, well, isn’t it? Surely Yue Qingyuan is adult enough to follow through on this. Maybe happiness can be look like his new betta swimming up to the tank to observe the new colorful form moving in front of it, can come as easy as Mu Qingfang quipping that his knowledge about fish is clearly lacking and vowing casually to read up on bettas to be a better fish uncle.

Yue Qingyuan buries a smile and walks over to let Mu Qingfang know that bettas can be trained to follow fingers around. The betta’s clear preference for Mu Qingfang over Yue Qingyuan is as good a marker of intelligence as any fun fact the pet shop worker could have given him. Yes, Yue Qingyuan thinks with a smile—he thinks he’ll be keeping this after all.

[suga-kookiemonster]

i watched the original x-men movies when they first came out, but never bothered to watch the prequel/reboot movies. just randomly decided to watch first class and was reminded what i've always felt my whole life: *whispers* magneto was right

[bubblegumb1tch111]

What's your biggest dream?

Be loved, I want it in the most theatrical and dramatic way possible, in the most heartbreaking and at the same time tender way, I want it so roomcoom and at the same time so Dracula from 1992,I want to travel with him,I want to cook with him I want to be able to make jokes with him, watch television and have children,I want to eat him whole,i want his blood to be my blood I want kiss him under the pale light of the moon, I want to be the reason for all his sighs and his greatest obsession, I wish for love in its greatest splendor.

[gothsuguru]

“but they cradled me, yes?” yeah that’s definitely gojo… he knows you’ve killed for him and bloodied your hands for him with a smile on your face… he knows none of the people you’ve killed weigh heavy on your heart because at the end of the day, as long as he’s safe and happy… well that’s all you care about. bloodied devotion to gojo… gonna be thinking about that for a WHILE……………………

[marklikely]

another thing that was crazy abt megalopolis is that theres a huge subplot (the main plot of the movie??) about how adam driver is just going around demolishing historic buildings and peoples homes to build his stupid utopian city and everyone is protesting this for obvious reasons but then in the last 10 minutes he just unveils his stupid utopian city and its presented like a huge grand triumph and the demolishings are completely forgotten so you have to assume the movie thinks that coming in and exploding peoples homes with no warning is a good and cool thing for him to do and they shouldnt have been upset by this.