#tale told by an idiot

[younes-ben-amara]

سببٌ تجريبي قويّ عمّا لِمَ ينبغي أن نرعى أفكارًا لا يمكن أبدًا دعمها بأيّ دليلٍ

ما هذه المجموعة من المختارات تسألني؟ إنّها عددٌ من أعداد نشرة “صيد الشابكة” اِعر�� أكثر عن النشرة هنا: ما هي نشرة “صيد الشابكة” ما مصادرها، وما غرضها؛ وما معنى الشابكة أصلًا؟! 🎣🌐هل تعرف ما هي صيد الشابكة وتطالعها بانتظام؟ اِدعم استمرارية النشرة بطرق شتى من هنا: 💲 طرق دعم نشرة صيد الشابكة. 🎣🌐 صيد الشابكة العدد #160 السلام عليكم؛ مرحبًا وبسم الله؛ بخصوص العنوان فهو ما سنبدأ به. 🎣🌐 صيد الشابكة…

[sydweedon]

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow

“Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools.

“Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,To the last syllable of recorded time;And all our yesterdays have lighted foolsThe way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player,That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,And then is heard no more. It is a taleTold by an idiot, full of sound and fury,Signifying…

[the-kiarah-organisation]

"wow you really are making this whole plural thing your whole personality"

You are never gonna believe this..

[deadmegumi]

There are toji fushiguro cathedrals everywhere for those with eyes to see. Babydoll cathedrals, even

[mappingthemoon]

I really go out of my way to avoid hearing [that man]* speak, but after being forced to overhear bits and pieces of the debate (I spent most of the time in the kitchen, making a pizza and basking in the white-noise bliss of the range hood, but occasionally a phrase would waft its way into my earspace, YUCK), I realized that a good chunk of my visceral disgust is because I can’t help but listen with my “transcription hat” on, and this dipshit speaks like a classic nightmare client: the hypnotically monotonous rapid cadence, the meandering run-on sentences, the utter failure to actually answer the question or even stay within a five-mile radius of the topic. It really triggers my transcription muscle memory! I can FEEL the way my foot would be tapping the pedal to rewind and catch up, rewind and catch up; how I would be tensed up over my desk, cursing under my breath as I so often did while typing lines of corporate bullshit: you piece of shit motherfucker goddammit fuck you asshole idiot shut up shut up shut upppppp. Honestly I think we could’ve avoided a lot of dumbassery if The Media had decided from the beginning to just print verbatim the long, inane bricks of text extruded from his stupid face instead of cherrypicking a sentence fragment here and there to make him sound like a human being capable of complex thought instead of the hateful free-roaming id that he is.

*ftr fucking sick of the cute insulting nicknames for this fascist dbag but also fucking sick of him living rent-free in seemingly everyone’s mind and getting free publicity at all times forever thriving on all attention especially the negative, but i still err on the side of "if naming the thing gives it power then i will refuse!" arrrrgghh

[atsevenseas]

☠ — @r3dblccd | hit the ♥ & gets a starter from minjun to anyone who wants to deal with him

Holding onto the branch with his legs, Minjun let himself dangle upside down when the other was close enough, blocking their way. "What are you doing out here?"

[i-am-become-a-name]

ohohohohoho early gallifrey audios. queen, beloved queen, bastard and other bastard times. also k9.

[deus-ex-mona]

when the realisation ✨finally✨ dawns on you but it’s wayyyy too late

[collude]

plot with me brothers 🫂

[asleepinawell]

me: it's so nice to be on vacation and get to turn off all my alarms and sleep in

my cat whose enrage timer goes off an hour before her breakfast time: :)))))))

[barnbridges]

not to engage in gender studies on main, but it was lifechanging when by accident i didn't notice a guy in a group of only women who had long hair and i said "hi girls... " and then added like "and [name]" and he proceeded to berate me for like 30 minutes.

[chuluoyi]

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 07:55 A.M 」

a little drabble based on this outrageous ask :)) and half-inspired by some lines from the broken ring: this marriage will fail anyway—that's my new roman empire everyone ehe🥹 and who can resist domestic husband!gojo?😋

a part of gojo's love entries

“you’re cheating on me.”

morning breakfast. satoru stopped chewing his toast at your wild accusation, his baby blue eyes blinking rapidly as he processed your words before turning to you and bursting out—

“huh?!”

“last night,” you charged, eyes narrowing in distaste. “i can’t believe you.”

“whaaa?” he tensed up, racking his brain for any indicators that he might have wronged you in any way, until he came across an irrefutable truth—

“wait no, last night, you almost made me lose it in my pants!” even satoru’s face reddened slightly while recounting your nightly tales. “before i busted it inside you. how is it possible that i’m committing adultery?!”

you huffed, looking away from him righteously. “in my last night’s dream, you did.”

. . .

“eh...” satoru blinked again, fully absorbing your words, before stupidly smiling. “what? you dream about me?”

you scowled, picking at your omelette. “yes. about you running away with five bimbos, banging them in a cottage in the middle of the woods, and leaving me here waiting for you like an idiot.”

he burst into uproarious laughter, so loud and crisp it made him wheeze. “what? seriously? you— ahahahaha!”

you threw him an unamused look, mildly irked.

“hey, wifey,” satoru nudged you, his grin stretching wide in sheer delight. “no one else can make my body react the way it does around you, you know~”

“…”

“this here,” your husband then shamelessly gestured towards his crotch. “—is broken already. my happy friend here can’t get up anymore if it’s not you.”

“…”

“i mean it! you’re the only one who can give me an erection!”

you whipped your head around him, scandalized. “ew! satoru, you—!”

“well, that’s the fact! nothing too embarrassing— we’re married!” he shrugged as you bulged a vein. “besides, shouldn’t you be proud? you've truly got me wrapped around your pinky~”

seeing how you were cutely pouting throughout breakfast, still all giggly, satoru led you back to bedroom to cuddle you.

“there, there, sweets... happy now?” satoru pulled you closer and pat your back, his body still slightly shaking with suppressed laughter.

“hmph.” you put your hands around his torso with pursed lips, squeezing him in return.

“look at this, it’s only when she’s spooked that the wife shows me any affection,” satoru exclaimed with a dramatic sigh. “so, what else did the dream version of me do to you, huh?”

“you bend each bimbo on every surface, lied to me that you’re on a long mission,” you huffed, grimacing as you recalled your dream vision. “you’re the worst.”

satoru still had that dopey grin on this face, and right this second, he thought you were the absolute cutest, because how could you think that he is capable of looking at anyone else the way he looks at you?

you have his heart, body and soul already. hasn't he told you that?

“is that so, poor you,” he retorted with mock sympathy. “but since you’re so worried...”

and suddenly, he rose from the bed with his arm around your back and another under your knees, cradling you in a princess carry. and with the smuggest smirk he whispered—

“...well, i have to make it up somehow. how about i bend you on your vanity desk now, hmm?”

[cuntylouis]

"I would say Louis has a puzzle that hasn’t been solved by a guy who spends his life getting the story. And I find one of the most interesting lines in the whole show is that I’m describing my former self and I say, “It’s a tale told to an idiot.” Well, who’s the idiot? That’s me. I’m calling myself an idiot. So, I’m calling my youthful self an idiot and I want to make up for that by going back and finding what had to be the greatest story I had ever investigated, but ineptly forty something years ago. I can easily imagine that. That comes up all the time in everyone’s life. I mean, it’s in its worst form. It’s like you get a Facebook account and you find that person you wanted to go out with in the ninth grade. You find them again, it turns out they will go out with you on a date and you’re willing to go and you’re just like, “Maybe this time I can get her to kiss me.” So maybe this time Louis will kiss me." Eric Bogosian (x)

[myowndesertplaces]

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow...

[alliseaisfandom]

this will probably be disproven across episodes but I have the Gwen brainrot so indulge me.

I know a lot of people hope that Elias is out walking around happy and high, but see the Magnus institute burned down in 1999. Jonah took Elias in 1996.

So don't imagine Gwendolyn coming 'home' after a few years studying on daddy's money, daddy's name and daddy's contempt that his youngest daughter seems perfectly fine with ignoring what is expected from a Bouchard.

Don't imagine Gwen running into her brother one night after he himself hasn't been in their family house for weeks. And realising the thing in front of her isn't Elias.

The stone cold sober, easy smiling man with impeccable posture is not the man who taught her how to play their parents to secure a peaceful life and a place in the will at the same time.

The eyes looking back at her never winked at her from across the dinner table, never shed tears of rage at the golden chains around both of them, never looked at her at her lowest and told her everything would be okay one day. Because those eyes do not belong to Elias.

'A promotion' it tells her, with the same pride Elias used to talk about a student strike that would absolutely wreck their name if it were printed on papers, but this thing wouldn't do that because this thing is. Not. Her. Brother. But she's almost as good at acting as it is, so she plays along. 'Head of the Magnus Institute'.

And Gwen knows very little of the Magnus institute. But she knows enough about Elias Bouchard. She knows about Allan and the eyeless thing that got to him, tale whispered in a panic on the night she first saw her brother as a child instead of a role model. She knows about the letter that arrived unprompted. She knows the stories of what goes on inside the too old building.

And she knows how easy it is to get her hands on gasoline for the bits of it that aren't already flammable.

When she's called in as his emergency contact, she feigns shock at the fire, throws the bone that 'the idiot couldn't even keep his fucking lighter straight' between tears.

She throws the ashes off a foggy cliff onto the sea and attends the empty casket funeral with the same expression she learns to carry from that day on. And after years of clipped conversation, she does what she promised Elias to never do.

'Get me in.' She tells her father. And his smile of relief at 'still having a worthy heir' on the day of his son's funeral sickens her. But she keeps the same expression.

Because she may have killed the thing that took Elias. But the OIAR is the place that can tell her what she killed exactly.

And she won't make her brother's mistakes.

[jesswritesthat]

Bakugou Katsuki: Soft

Fandom: BNHA // MHA — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: ~0.35k, Fluff

Warnings: None

>>>>——————————>

Your co-workers had known you for a while and knew you were happily married, but they had never met this elusive husband of yours. This man who’d stolen your heart, and according to the tales you’d told, seemed to be undoubtedly, undeniably, head-over-heels in love with you.

Of course they pictured someone so soft when you’d told them heartfelt compliments were hard for him to give you frivolously.

Of course they’d envisioned someone so pure, angels would cry when you’d mentioned the fact your husband still blushes when giving you gifts.

Of course they imagined a total sweetheart when you’d said your wonderful husband makes lunches for you when he can - even more adorable was the perfection of them.

So, of course when a total stranger in a black tank top with a muscular frame that could snap them in half in one flex walks in asking demanding to see you, they think this man would kill you and then your husband.

Then there’s you, who approaches this cold-hearted figure with a heartwarming smile. This intimidating enigma whose intensity immediately melts away upon being graced with said smile and nods at you in acknowledgement before jousting a fist out toward you.

That’s it. You were knocked out, no way anyone was surviving a direct hit from him unless they were a pro. However, it was then they noticed the parcel held out along with it, the blazing crimson glare, and the equally discreet scarlet slowing dusting his skin.

“Idiot, you forgot you damn food!”

“Thanks for bringing it for me Katsuki, I know it’s out of your way~” You’d beamed at him so brightly when taking the item from him, to which he only rolled his eyes.

“Yeah yeah, s’no problem if it’s for you. See you later alright? Don’t be a dumbass and walk home alone in the dark, just call and I’ll come get you.”

With his straightforward and slightly harsh way of speaking, he gave a quick kiss to your forehead so fast they almost missed it, along with a light shove to your shoulder as he went to leave.

One thing is for certain, your beloved husband certainly wasn’t the wholesome cinnamon roll your co-workers had conceived in their minds, but one fact remained intact:

Your husband Bakugou Katsuki was no doubt, hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with you.

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