#sounds poetic
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thislittlebadwolf · 2 years ago
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Would you like to find out what you would be the god of? Take my new uqiz to find out
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inkskinned · 1 year ago
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i love when words fit right. seize was always supposed to be that word, and so was jester. tuesday isn't quite right but thursday should be thursday, that's a good word for it. daisy has the perfect shape to it, almost like you're laughing when you say it; and tulip is correct most of the time. while keynote is fun to say, it's super wrong - i think they have to change the label for that one. but fox is spot-on.
most words are just, like, good enough, even if what they are describing is lovely. the night sky is a fine term for it but it isn't perfect the way november is the correct term for that month.
it's not just in english because in spanish the phrase eso si que es is correct, it should be that. sometimes other languages are also better than the english words, like how blue is sloped too far downwards but azul is perfect and hangs in the air like glitter. while butterfly is sweet, i think probably papillion is more correct, although for some butterflies féileacán is much better. year is fine but bliain is better. sometimes multiple languages got it right though, like how jueves and Πέμπτη are also the right names for thursday. maybe we as a species are just really good at naming thursdays.
and if we were really bored and had a moment and a picnic to split we could all sit down for a moment and sort out all the words that exist and find all the perfect words in every language. i would show you that while i like the word tree (it makes you smile to say it), i think arbor is correct. you could teach me from your language what words fit the right way, and that would be very exciting (exciting is not correct, it's just fine).
i think probably this is what was happening at the tower of babel, before the languages all got shifted across the world and smudged by the hand of god. by the way, hand isn't quite right, but i do like that the word god is only 3 letters, and that it is shaped like it is reflecting into itself, and that it kind of makes your mouth move into an echoing chapel when you cluck it. but the word god could also fit really well with a coathanger, and i can't explain that. i think donut has (weirdly) the same shape as a toothbrush, but we really got bagel right and i am really grateful for that.
grateful is close, but not like thunder. hopefully one day i am going to figure out how to shape the way i love my friends into a little ceramic (ceramic is very good, almost perfect) pot and when they hold it they can feel the weight of my care for them. they can put a plant in there. maybe a daisy.
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reasonsforhope · 7 months ago
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Hey adults: Why do you like being an adult? What do you like about your life?
A couple weeks ago I told the kids at my work that "Being an adult is pretty nice, actually," and they looked shocked, laughed incredulously, and told me I was the first person they'd ever heard say that
So clearly we adults need to talk about this way more often
The past few years have been hard for a lot of people, me included. Covid sucked. I lost three relatives and three pets in one year. Right after lockdown ended, I got badly injured, and ended up housebound for six months and (much more) disabled for two years, and that sucked too.
And you know what? Literally all of that was easier and better than being a teenager.
I like being an adult. I like my life. Even when it's hard, it's mine, and I am building to the best of my ability the a life that I want to live.
I talked about a lot of why being an adult is something worth looking forward to in my last post, so right now I'll simply say this:
I love actually knowing who I am now. I love that I learned and am learning what I want and need. I love that I have independence and autonomy and don't get treated like a kid. I love the fact that I'm the one who gets to decide want I want to do and what I need. I also love that I'm learning to sew. I love that I've had pet rats, and next will have a pet cat. I love that I got top surgery. I love the way I've decorated my room. I love traveling to visit and crash and even just hang out and do work with my friends, when I can. I love that I started reading good news every day, and that I actually have hope for the future, and that I started this blog and have been able to help give so many other people hope, too.
So, here's a call to action for my fellow adults: comment or reply or tag what you like about being an adult. What you love about your life.
Let's give some kids some reasons for hope.
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wookiecookiesfactory · 2 months ago
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if you go by authorial intent, this is not the case (she did love him) but even if you just take the books how they are this is a great take
I’ll join you on the hill of unpopular Snily opinions. They were terrible to each other - him because he had no knowledge of how to be a good friend and her because deep down she didn’t particularly want to be once she got to Hogwarts and met other magical kids. I don’t think Lily was all that great tbh from the little we get of her, and think it’s pretty tragic that Severus was so love deprived that he hangs everything on to a relationship in which he’s treated…with a fair amount of disdain? Even in early childhood before his politics become a far more supportable reason for her contempt? But them not being soulmates doesn’t make it any less important, because the details of their friendship don’t really matter. What’s important is that the experience of Severus loving someone transformed him, and allowed him to claw his way to some sort of moral framework despite never having received any sort of guidance.
why do i lowkey agree w everything you just said
also "What’s important is that the experience of Severus loving someone transformed him, and allowed him to claw his way to some sort of moral framework despite never having received any sort of guidance." ATEEE.
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sweepingboy · 2 months ago
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ZHANMADAO IS THE ONLY SPIRITUAL WEAPON WITHOUT A NAME IN TGCF AND I ALWAYS WONDERED WHY MU QING DECIDED TO KEEP IT LIKE THAT.
Like, the cultivation and training meant a lot to him, he always tried to act properly regardless of his status AND YET HE DIDN'T GIVE HIS SABER A NAME??? naming a weapon is a big thing for a cultivator, the sword have spirits, yet he keeps calling it by its type???
NEED YOUR THOUGHT ON THAT
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manderleyfire · 5 months ago
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HOUSE OF THE DRAGON COUNTDOWN TO S2 Day 7 – Dynamics: Otto x Alicent x Aegon
[why] DO YOU [destroy yourself] LOVE ME?
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vamplire · 9 months ago
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when i see armand sink his fangs into daniel i will fall to the floor like an elderly victorian lady who’s just seen ankle
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wisebeth · 1 year ago
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Percy describing Annabeth's eyes : They were startling gray, like storm clouds; pretty, but intimidating, too, as if she were analyzing the best way to take me down in a fight.
Jason describing Piper's eyes : kaleidoscope.
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venice-1987 · 2 months ago
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An annoying phenomenon I've noticed
Alternatively: Whatever you do, don't go onto the TDP reddit
(Alternatively, let people ship things)
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metalhoops · 1 year ago
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O how he loves you, darling boy. Oh how, like always, he invents the monsters underneath the bed to get you to sleep next to him, chest to chest or chest to back, the covers drawn around you in an act of faith against the night. - Richard Siken
“There’s something outside my window.” 
Eddie stood in the doorway, shoulders slump and slack from lack of sleep. Steve knew this routine. They’d fallen into it unexpectedly. After Eddie got out of the hospital, he’d come to stay with Steve until they could clear his name. 
They’d hunkered down in his childhood home, the wooden walls of which Steve knew inspired wild imaginings. The shadows cast from the trees on the pool mixed with the silver moonlight and danced like the hair of a dead girl on the surface of the water. They were Steve’s demons. Eddie had brought his own to the Harrington’s house of horrors. 
Steve knew paranoia. They were old partners. Paranoia crept into your bed in the dead of night, apologised for waking you, and kept you guessing with its cold feet and fitful tossing. 
“Let me take a look,” Steve uttered, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. They dangled inches from the floor but in the blackness, they might as well be hanging over the edge of a precipice. 
He strode barefoot into the hallway, feeling the chill of death in the early April air. In the daylight, the hallway was metres. In the dead of night, it was miles. Eddie trailed after him, acting as a wave in the wake of a boat. In the night, anything could look like the black water of Lover’s Lake. Eddie’s breath on the nape of his neck was all Steve needed to remind himself he wasn’t drowning. 
He surveyed Eddie’s room, switching on the lights, opening the windows, and pacing in strange circles as though mapping sigils in the floor. He checked the closet and behind the door, before he crawled under the bed and felt Eddie slide in beside him. The two were crushed together in the small space, staring at mattress slates. 
There was an intimacy in the confined darkness and a strange, childlike comfort in hiding away from some unknown yet likely imaginary force. Steve felt the rise and fall of Eddie’s shoulders, signalling the slowing of his breath. There was nothing in the darkness, not yet, not anymore. 
“Can you stay here tonight?” Eddie asked. 
It wasn’t the first time he or Steve had posed the question but usually, there was more beating around the bush. They’d both grown tired of formalities. Steve had known the second Eddie showed up at his door that they’d end the night in the same bed. He liked it, more than he cared to admit, more than he should. Like many things in his life, Steve tried not to overthink it. 
“Yeah, long as we’re sleeping on the bed, not under it.” 
“I don’t know, man. You seen the view? That dust bunny? A must-see. That dead spider—.”
“The what?” Steve cursed, shifting closer to Eddie. He felt something crawl over his exposed ankles and kicked out against the blackness. 
“Cool it, karate kid, that was a joke,” Eddie cackled as Steve continued to mutter profanities under his breath as he crawled from under the bed. 
Eddie followed Steve’s awkward little army crawl, tugging at the boy’s ankle and dragging him backwards so he could take the lead. 
“Breaker, breaker this is Eddie the Banished calling for Top Gun King, do you read me,” Eddie breathed into the palm of his hand. Reenacting some unseen scenario Steve couldn’t quite follow. 
For a moment the boy wondered what his life would’ve been like, in another world where he and Eddie had grown up together, instead of himself and Tommy. He wondered if there would’ve been more years of strange yet striking whimsey, that Tommy and by default Steve, had grown out of at a startlingly young age. 
Eddie feigned a strange and static crackle as he clambered into bed and crawled beneath the covers. Steve followed, sliding in beside Eddie. The boy nudged his side as though waiting for something. 
“Rodger?” Steve attempted lamely. 
He wished he knew how Eddie mustered up the sudden lightness. He wanted to be a part of the world the boy escaped to in the dead of night when all Steve was left with were monsters and memories. 
“I’m sorry. I’m not good at this,” He apologised seeing Eddie’s wild eyes trained on him. 
Whenever they were together, Steve couldn’t help but feel like Eddie was asking something of him without saying it. Steve wanted nothing more than to give it to him. If only he could work out what it was. 
“It’s not hard once you’ve done it a few times. You’ve just gotta learn the magic of ‘yes, and.’ Let your hair down a little bit, boy wonder.” 
“I hate to break it to you, but my hair is as down as it gets... Since, you know...” Steve gestured vaguely at himself. 
Eddie’s eyes lingered on the hollow of his collarbones and the hint of chest hair, snaking like vines beneath his low-cut shirt. Steve noticed. He was good at noticing things. In the same way he knew Vicki liked women, he knew Eddie liked men. He was startlingly good at noticing that kind of thing. 
“Don’t wear Farrah Fawcett hairspray to bed? Colour me surprised,” Eddie spoke reaching out as though to touch Steve’s hair, before letting his hand fall in the space between them, thinking better of it.
That was the thing between them. They could sleep together but they couldn’t touch each other in the way they wanted. That would be admitting to something Steve wasn’t ready to commit to. It was his own personal secret, not from Eddie but from himself. Eddie was just a bystander bearing witness to the civil war of Steve’s heart and his better judgment. 
“Say your goodbyes to Henderson because next time I see him he’s dead,” Steve whispered. 
Eddie shifted, settling down for sleep as they’d done other nights. They never talked for long. If they talked it would be an admission that the two of them sleeping together was as much for pleasure as it was for necessity. Steve lay beside Eddie feeling as though his body were a room he was outside of. 
He tried to push the surge of emotions down, as he had all other nights. He felt as though he were holding his head underwater.
The past and the present tangled like fingers through unkempt hair. Unrelated guilts intertwined inextricably. Steve felt like he was drowning, laying beside the body of a boy he wanted to cling to like a life vest, while his eyes lay locked on the black shadow beyond the half-shut curtains. The swimming pool, where a girl had been dragged deep into the blackness. Steve was back at Lover’s Lake. He was in love and he was drowning. 
“Steve, are you okay?” Eddie was on his side, looking at Steve’s profile. 
His heart had circumnavigated his chest and worked its way up into his mouth, making it hard to breathe, hijacking his ears with the erratic beat. 
He tried to use Eddie’s voice to centre himself, to detangle the threads of history from histrionics, so all that would remain was himself and a boy in a bed with hair like history repeating. Steve had hands that wanted to undo time.
He remembered years before when Nancy had been the one that’d made his heartbeat throb like an infected wound. He knew logically, the emotions were the same. He’d sunk into Nancy’s body as one wades into deep water. He wondered what it’d be like to do the same to Eddie. Moreover, what it’d be like to be the water. To be a geyser by the ocean both filling and full. 
He couldn’t breathe. 
“I think I’m dying,” Steve whispered, finding his voice fractured by the thrum of his heart. Eddie’s face shifted to a look of understanding. 
Eddie’s hand was on his cheek, turning Steve to face him. 
“Look at me. You’re not dying,’ Eddie’s voice was stern and self-assured. 
Steve wanted to believe him. He couldn’t. Eddie’s fingers drew circles in his flesh. 
“Can I show you something?” Eddie asked. 
Steve’s throat was clogged shut, still holding his haemorrhaging heart. He nodded. 
“You’ve got something behind your ear,” Eddie muttered, pulling his hand back from Steve’s face to reveal his guitar pick, held on a necklace string. A magic trick.
It shook something loose, deep inside him. He doubled over, buried his face in Eddie’s shoulder and laughed. He took gasping inhales of Eddie’s skin, breathing in cigarette ash and musky cologne.
“That was so lame,” Steve gasped when he found his voice. 
“You loved it,” Eddie argued. 
“I loved it and it was lame,” he confirmed shaking his head. 
A hush fell over the boys. Not the quiet of sleep, but the stillness of contemplation. 
“You want to tell me what that was all about?” Eddie spoke, leaving it for Steve to pick up or push away. 
What was he supposed to say? ‘I want to kiss you and it scares me shitless.’ 
“I thought I saw something,” he replied lamely. 
Eddie’s brows furrowed. They both knew nothing was out there but when you’d been through what they had, some days logic wasn’t enough. It was a lie almost big enough to cover the scope of the truth. 
Eddie shifted, tucking his knee between Steve’s legs, pulling them together so the two were chest to chest, breath mingling.
“We’re fine,” Eddie said with conviction as though speaking the words could somehow make them true. 
They were back to the same old routine.  
The two boys lay crushed close together, leaving space in the sheets for all the things unspoken between them, all the vampiric night horrors that’d burn up come daylight. 
What would remain of the feelings come morning, Steve didn’t know but with his eyelids heavy and Eddie’s hand feather-light on his hip he stopped struggling against the tide of weary want and worry. He closed his eyes, leaned into Eddie’s body and let the feelings crash over his head, a wilful sort of drowning. 
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bloodraven55 · 2 years ago
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it’s always “i love you.” and never “no one in the world could possibly understand. this emotion is mine and mine alone… and i’ve been saving it for her. it is the pinnacle of all human emotion. more passionate than hope, much deeper than despair. love.”
or “i’m sorry. i’m so weak. i just wanted you back with me. i didn't care what i had to do... i’d commit the worst sins for one more chance. even if it turned me into a monster, it wouldn't matter. as long as i could have you back.”
or “no matter how many times it takes, i’ll relive it over and over again. i’ll find the way out. the one path that'll save you from this destiny of despair. madoka, my one and only friend. i don't care… because if it's for you, i’ll stay trapped in this endless maze forever.”
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xixovart · 17 days ago
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do you have a calypso design? 👀 id love to see one
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made one just for this while listening to the challenge on repeat
calypso my beloathed i wish i didnt understand you
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loppytaffy · 2 months ago
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They fucked.
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local-lover-boy · 3 months ago
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Tw angsty teenage feelings
Is it okay to feel lost? To feel like every time I'm not outright miserable, I'm playing pretend? I worry that I'm wasting my late teens but is feeling lost and being in no set direction part of it? I honestly don't know, I've never had role models and my position is very unique. I feel less like a person and more like a drowned body being pulled and tugged by indecisive waves. Am I fucking it up? I guess we'll see
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simcardiac-arrested · 1 month ago
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growing up is like, every single thing you thought would be so complicated and unmanageable and unthinkably difficult turns out to be, actually, pretty simple. and every single thing you thought was so simple and easy to understand and how come adults don’t get this turns out to be painfully hard to deal with, to actually understand and internalize.
the thing you thought you had all figured out—somehow, you forget the right way to handle it. the thing you thought would dictate the course of your entire life, the thing you thought would ruin you forever—you move on in 2 months. the worst thing to ever happen to you hasn’t caught up yet. maybe it never will. maybe life shouldn’t be based on which worst thing happens when.
a hobby you thought would be a silly one-off becomes an all-time favorite. a genre you could never see yourself getting into can offer you the best story you’ve ever experienced. an inherent belief you thought you’d never budge on starts getting cracks. a person you’ve only ever seen in passing and had short conversations with can become your closest three, five, seven years later.
everything you thought about yourself can turn out to be wrong. you’ll get better in ways you didn’t know you could. you’ll slip and fall just as much, get new scrapes along the way as you survive yet another mess of a job, a situation, a relationship. it might be fear, or it might be happiness when you’ll look at yourself in the mirror and not recognize who it is.
so yeah, i guess, if i had to describe what growing up feels like, i could say i’m closer to figuring my life out, or i’m even more lost than before, or that it’s like a rebirth, i’m becoming a new person, i’m finally getting to know myself, or the many, many other things people say when you ask them.
and they’re all right, of course—the future you dreamed for yourself at age 12 is no longer there to guide you anymore, but sometimes it does feel like you see things clearer, like the pieces occasionally click in your head even if you can never comprehend the puzzle. you’re still who you were at your core, but you’re also starting to peel back the layers, to find such things that you never even imagined could be you.
so yeah, i guess, growing up is all of those things and more. it never stops to wait for you to realize it’s happening. it’s changing, changing in a way you can never anticipate, changing in a way that will simultaneously ache deeply and make you the happiest you’ve ever been. it’s the most complex, most intricate experience a human could have.
but, like most complicated things, it’s also actually pretty simple.
i mean—it’s just plain fun, isn’t it?
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zaacoy · 2 years ago
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normalize acting like an old couple sometimes but also sometimes falling headlong into young-love like glee all over again, their presence and their touch is enough to keep that fire alight, no matter how much time passes
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