Dream showing off his newest creation, the Corinthian, to Titania and Oberon and dressing him the most gorgeous gauzy cape and adorning him in silvers and tiny diamonds:
U guys do not understand the HOLD imagining this fancy party fit on the Corinthian has on me
that tonal shift between Meet The Grahams and Not Like Us is absolutely wild to me in hindsight. Plus it felt like a direct response to all the people sleeping on Kdot's banger/bop credentials. Just picturing everyone crying on the floor in despair from MTG, only for Kdot to burst through the wall like the kool aid man yelling "YOU MUHFUCKAS SAID YOU WANTED TO DANCE, GET UP NIGGAS, LETS DANCE"
my favorite part of tlou so far has to be ellie's viciousness. her rage. her fury. a 14 year old girl with no one. with no future. with no prospects. except for the fact that the universe randomly decided to spare her instead of millions of others. the grief of that. the indignation of that. when you're born and raised and trained to kill infected that were once, are still ostensibly, people. to kill fireflies, who are wholly people. who are your best friend. your first love. when you expect to die again and again and have to live. are punished with living. "no one who's infected fights this hard to stay alive." she's stark raving bullshit mad from the beginning. fighting against her chains. count to ten slowly and clearly. flinging herself at joel with her knife raised at the slightest provocation. stab the guard in the neck before he can raise alarm. slice the cheek of an infected to watch the strands of fungus open the wound. shoot a boy not much older than you before you have to watch someone else you care about die. carve your own palm open because your blood is medicine. scream and destroy the room with a bat at the injustice. rip apart a kitchen for a cure. raise your rifle high and scowl down the barrel before they can reach for theirs. bite and claw and kick and break his finger and give them a cleaver to the neck, the face. burn the building down. refuse to let this be the best it gets. fight and rip and scream and howl at the audacity of the universe to fuck you like this. put your head down and keep walking because fuck no is this not gonna be how it ends.
Periodically I see some version of this floating around, so let me just reiterate from my own anecdotal experience:
A six-figure marketing campaign cannot hold a candle to 6 gay teens enthusiastically posting about a book (and is almost certainly why my books are still in circulation)
The Trifle had its first recipe in a 1585 English cookbook so of course I had to go all out on this final day of the challenge. It’s been a really fun time, I’m so happy I did this challenge month… but I also need so many naps now. (TT v TT). I hope you’ve enjoyed these as much as I have!
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