#theme: introspection

[hp-fanfic-archive]

warmth; or the meaning thereof by Anonymous Pairing: Gen, Severitus Rating: T Word Count: 5k Podfic available here Read by: Anonymous Length: 0:33:40 “Is that your… father?” the red-headed boy asks, frowning slightly as the train pulls away from the station. Other parents are waving on the platform, bright smiles and tears on their faces; a red-headed girl with the same pointed nose as the boy in the seat across from them is chasing the train, laughing and crying all at once, until she can’t keep up anymore. In the distance, and only because he cranes to see it, Harry can just make out a still figure in black, billowing robes, his hands tucked into his pockets. “The closest thing I have to it,” Harry says, turning back to the boy. “My foster father. Severus.” “He seems…” The boy pauses, his frown deepening. “Kind of cold.” “There’s more than one way to be warm.” Harry smiles, not expecting this other boy to understand. “There’s more than one way to show care.”

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[marzipanandminutiae]

Average historian denies all gay relationships statistic false!

No-Lesbians Ruth Franklin, who lives in an archive and denies any possible sapphic interpretation of Shirley Jackson’s work 50 times a day, is an outlier adn should not be counted

[moonsnqil]

trying to explain to my best friend that while aftg is a mafia book, the mafia isn't even the most prevalent theme and how really it's a love story at it's core but not in a fairytale way rather in the way horror movies are love stories

[bonefall]

tall shadows line of "she was only a kittypet" kinda reminds me of the line "they were only slaves" from the prince of egypt.

What kills me about it is that like, at that point in the movie, the Pharoah Is Bad. Him saying that a billion babies where fed to crocodiles is A Bad Thing. It's the point where Moses realizes he can't be part of the royal family without being complicit.

But Tall Shadow says "calm down, Bumble was less than human anyway" and Gray Wing nods along (complete with the jiggly clicking noise that comes with shaking a can of spraypaint) and this is an example of them being reasonable. Level-headed, even, not getting swept away by the passion of the angry mob.

There are so many levels to how fucked up the Bumble Debacle is that you can't explore every floor all at once. It is an onion. It has layers.

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Metallica, 1986.

[articskele]

“...Wrong? Why would anything go wrong?”

Without further ado, a stimboard for @ask-the-biggering-onceler!

x|x|x x|x|x x|x|x

[mercilessflowchart]

Why are Marakas’ lips so hard to draw from the side???

[thewhizzyhead]

does anyone want an analysis on a light or somethin because its been on fuckin repeat since the day I first listened to warriors and now swercy is all I can think about. also I feel obligated to tell you that Julia and Jazzy call it swercy too and I'm not kidding just look at their IG comments they use the hashtag and everything

[kylekreepsmeout]

A Comic about my Dissatisfaction

[doom-dreaming]

Do you think she said/he heard something funny enough that got him to smile/laugh and look away for a fraction of a second. Do you think she felt enamored and secretly tried to get him to laugh again. Because in midst of chaos she's never really seen him simply laugh and rarely seen him smile.

"You always take me to such nice places," she remarks. It's half-sarcastic (the body of the Jackal they'd ambushed is floating down the creek at the bottom of the ravine) but there's an undercurrent of sincerity to it - it is a nice little place. Leaf-filtered light dapples the grass under John's boots. High overhead, the glittering curve of Delta Halo's alien landscape fades into a cloudless blue sky. Her sensors pick up birdsong; she runs a quick comparison scan through her database...no match to a familiar species. Interesting. She files the call under a new entry.

A nice place indeed.

John shoots two more Jackal snipers off their perches, sending them sprawling limp against the rocks. Shouts echo up the cliff walls from somewhere beyond the range of both sight and sensors; Unggoy cries of alarm, silenced by a swift Sangheili command.

"Seems like we've crashed our own surprise party."

John drops from the ledge and hits the ground running, clearing a gap in the rocks around the waterfall with the effortless grace of a jungle cat. Cortana swears she can feel the mist swirling past his shields. He meets the oncoming Covenant as he always does, a wall of metallic green titanium, an unstoppable force and an immovable object all, somehow, rolled into one.

The next thirty seconds are a blur of bullets, brutality, and blood. Cortana wanders. A frog, an unremarkable little brown thing only a few inches long, launches itself from the bank of the creek, kicking through the water to the safety of a submerged rock. A dragonfly as dazzlingly blue as Cortana herself alights on the flowering stalk of a reed. A lizard with a brightly-colored tail three times the length of its body skitters up a nearby tree. A shiny black beetle, unperturbed by the chaos around it, trundles under a clump of fallen leaves.

This ring is alive in a way so different from the first, with an entirely separate ecosystem— "Wait." She folds in on herself, collapsing back into the confines of the Mjolnir, pressing at the barrier separating her—just barely—from the electrical storm inside his brain on the other side.

He stops.

"...I wonder if there are fish in that creek."

A mixture of amusement and confusion splashes up against the barrier, but he humors her curiosity without a word, picking his way over the rocks, deeper into the ravine.

Sure enough, there they are. Tiny silver things wriggling at the edges of stones and within the stands of reeds, breaking the surface tension to swallow up pinprick-small insects resting on the water, leaving behind perfectly round, glistening bubbles.

She relaxes again, swelling outward, soaking in everything she can touch. The rocks here are slick with waterfall mist; moss grows in the crevices, lush tracks of green and pink. Somewhere close, another frog croaks. Insects buzz. Leaves rattle in the breeze. There's no gunfire. No alien shrieking. No radio chatter. It's serene.

"Hard to believe these were built to be weapons," she muses, focusing on a miniscule spider as it climbs across a branch over their head. His head. She had to stop doing that. "...we should keep going. Regret has to be close. Sorry about the detour."

Calmness and nonchalant acceptance greet her from John's side of the neural barrier when she tucks herself back into the nooks and crannies of his armor. Part of her—a rather loud part of her—wants to stay and analyze the intricacies of this halo's flora and fauna and how it had all developed and fit together, but...they have work to do.

She can't resist one last quip as John navigates through the winding cavern out of the ravine. "On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate this date?" She's not expecting a response, but he surprises her. It's nothing more than a huff of air and a low sound in the back of his throat, but Cortana feels the chemical-electrical rush of amusement behind it and knows what it's supposed to be.

And in spite of the frogs and insects and birdsong, it's the sweetest sound she's heard since they landed.

[thegoatsongs]

A survey of 100 authors from 54 countries named "Moby Dick" as one of the 100 best books of all time... But public opinion was very different 161 years ago. When "Moby Dick" debuted in 1851, reviewers trashed it.

The book sold fewer than 4,000 copies in total (fewer than 600 in the UK), prompting Melville to have serious doubts about his future writing career.

Given that The Beetle was very popular for several years since its publication (and had outsold Dracula six times over) I am once again judging

[springtimebat]

The Beginning of a Century (A Short poem)

I had a DVD player once

That stopped reading discs

Like

It forgot to do its job

A relatable feeling

But inconvenient and annoying

It’s a beautiful day in the Cyberhood

It would have been better 

To have slept and dreamed 

Than to watch a full moon pass 

Do not be afraid of your own tears 

The rain seduces and brings out poets 

If I die you should write a poem about me

I am permanently banned

From the county fair 

Lightning breathes life into me

I attract bolts of energy

Rain, fog, and grey tufts of cloud

So it’s not my fault 

That I can’t keep any job at all

Never put me in a casket

Melt me down into stones, pebbles

Chisel me into a Notre Dame gargoyle 

My lips will float to God’s ear

[espectres]

knives r such a recurring theme in mp100 dont be surprised when i write smthing for shou & u find them there..

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Metallica (1985)

[froschli96]

Every time you tell someone who wants to get into Assassin's Creed to just skip the first game and start with the Ezio trilogy, a kitten dies.

[seventeendeer]

I can't articulate this very well right now but. listen to me. rgu and pmmm, the tv series, are parallel stories. an echo. two versions of the same event. and their respective movies-

adolescence of utena is the happy ending, where the abandoned girl lays down her sword and finally leaves behind her flawed "hero" role so that she may go to the outside world and be with her beloved again. rebellion is the tragedy, where she is unable to let go and takes her old role to its logical conclusion, destroying herself and her relationship with her loved one in the process while convincing herself that she's doing what's best for the girl she loves, even if it means taking away her right to choose for herself.

do you see it. do you understand. there are layers to this !! different takes on the same subject !!! the contrasts also between the main pairs and how they're played !!!!! oh fuck and the deconstructive AU potential is off the chartsssss oh no