#they just don't remember it

[karlyuchka]

Twitter is calling Jet from ATLA Hitler, I fucking can't. Calling fictional characters actual terrible historical figures is already fucked up. But Jet is Hitler and not Ozai or goddamn Sozin? Sozin, who actually ordered an actual genocide? Crazy stuff.

All of the quotes are crazy actually. That's just the most crazy one. Literally one of the most misunderstood and misrepresented characters in ATLA.

[toskarin]

oh I didn't realize you used to be a huge piece of shit

[hinamie]

I'll give them shelter like you've done for me

[xxlumos]

*smooch*

[quiddie]

Just had a friend show me a conversation in a fan discord about Suvi as a Black American woman in the context of the fallout from the election. And honestly? Yeah. The blueprint is simple: Black women are expected to put their own priorities and emotions on hold to show up for everyone else's battles and hold endless space for everyone's feelings while simultaneously weathering attacks on our character (oh she's so angry/aggressive/violent/rude) and authority (she's a woke hire/affirmative action quota/nepobaby) without complaint. We're expected to save the day under nigh-impossible circumstance, and with fewer resources and support that is AT BEST, conditional.

So yeah, relistening to Suvi's speech in The Witness hurts now. Because that's exactly the feeling I'm wrestling with, and what I see mirrored in the Black women around me. We are exhausted and angry and sad. Those voter percentages are a betrayal of "we" that was promised by other marginalized groups when speaking of the interconnectedness of our liberation. And the unexamined expectation that we immediately rise from the depths of our despair to prepare for the next fight is a cruelty. Suvi isn't real, but if this helps lend empathy toward actual Black women in the world, then I'm glad.

[bluegiragi]

birdie.

early access + nsfw on patreon monster!AU masterpost

[artist-rat]

some epilogue vibes (an excuse to draw some hugs. and my durge so many times)

[nenoname]

Cute wholesome fics where Stan teaches Soos or Wendy how to drive were always so funny to me because...

And while he insists that everyone in town has ran over McGucket before, we also know he ran over Toby too and absolutely did not give a shit (understandable in that case)

But then again...

Also bless Mr Honeypants

And another detail I love is that his car is casually filled with parking tickets

How many tickets are in Ford's name...

[somnimagus]

out of the frying pan and into the fire and into another frying pan that's also on fire

[id in alt text]

[buggachat]

legitimate question ....... why do people like to tell me all the reasons they don't like miraculous ladybug? i know i complain about the fact a lot, and i find myself on the defensive a lot, and i keep telling myself i'll stop and let it go, but it really is hard when people are always coming onto my posts, in my replies, in my comments, on my art and my fics and my text posts and anything i make, and telling me blatantly all the ways that they don't like the thing that i so blatantly find enjoyment in. "the show is bad". okay? good for you? why are you on my post about it? why don't you make your own? why are you telling me, specifically, this, on the art/fic/analysis i made that i assume you found by searching through the tag?

it's kind of a behavior that i legitimately don't understand. I'm a human being and I hate a lot of things, too. there are things i've loved at first and been disappointed by and have strong opinions about. there are things i like to complain about. so i'll complain about them to my friends or my family or my cat. but i have never, once, not even for a single moment, thought, "oh let me go into the tags of this media, find a positive post about it written by someone who's having fun with it, and make it that random stranger's problem". never once.

i just don't get it. i really don't get it. i sometimes worry that i come across like i'm heavily critical of people who just personally don't like the show, when really i'm just trying to defend my interests to the droves of strangers who are always coming specifically to me to tell me all the ways they hate the thing that makes me happy.

just.......... why? where does the urge come from? what do you get out of this?

[bacchuschucklefuck]

class swap design masterpost for convenience (from top to bottom: bard!riz, cleric!gorgug, sorcerer!kristen, barbarian!fig, artificer!adaine, and rogue!fabian)

[ducktu]

Duke: WOW, how can you even say that about my people-

Jason: Hold on, being black doesn't have anything to do with it-

Duke: BLACK? MY PEOPLE ARE BAT VIGILANTES, WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?, CAN YOU ONLY SEE RACE?

Jason: *screams*

[hinamie]

"I'll show you every day that choosing to live was worth it"

some of my favourite scenes from @hijinks-n-lowjinks' fic things i would miss from the other side . this fic tore my heart out fr but like in a good way and i wanted to pay it homage the only way i know how <3

[kosmogrl]

starting to forget what someone's voice sounded like has got to be the most heartbreaking thing you can ever experience

[strawberri-draws]

Mabel would have a cutesy flip phone with stickers, I don't make the rules

[inkskinned]

today i love the red metal crane in her long neck arching her body over the boston skyline, which means i am okay for a moment. when i am unwell, everything is a little ugly. i always tell myself look for the beauty but when it is bad, i will look at birds and sunsets and little ducklings and feel absolutely nothing.

when my brother got his puppy, i was in a deep depression. what kind of monster isn't affected by a puppy. i was gentle and kind to her - i just didn't have an emotional reaction. she's five now and i feel like i spend all of our interactions apologizing to her - i don't know why. i just didn't feel anything. how embarrassing. i feel like if i admit that, i'll seem cruel and jaded. it comes in waves. like, two months ago when i went out into the world - it was like that. life behind a pane of stormglass. a firework could go off over your head - nothing. like dead skin, no reaction. not to ice cream or rainbows or baby chickens. life foggy and uninteresting.

i love goslings again. i love their little webbed feet splayed over grass. i love good food and live music and long walks. i like puppies. i feel like some kind of my soul has been starved - i keep staring at everything with wide eyes, trying to burrow the sensation into my stomach. it's real. beauty is real. when it's bad again, remember this. i stop and smell the flowers, feeling cliche in the moment. i like the white-to-red ombre of my neighbor's roses. i like colorcoding and yoga and cold drinks. i try to pass my hands over every moment, feeling like i'm squeezing joy out of every instant. remember this. for the love of god, it's real - just remember this.