#what did i do deserve . everything

[guinevereslancelot]

what was with cameron house md she spends 90% of the episode saying she wants their patient to die bc he's a genocidal dictator and her colleague husband says "babe it bothers me for ethical reasons that you want our patient to die :(" and she said "hm maybe you're right :/" but when it comes down to it the genocidal dictator lays a finger on her in an aggressive manner and chase instantly commits medical malpractice to murder the guy and then when he tells her she LEAVES HIM bc boo hoo he's a murderer now like GIRL he killed a man for you!!! he's wracked with catholic guilt!!! he's being crushed beneath the weight of his sins because he chose his devotion to you over his devotion to god!!! he literally could not get any sexier at this moment in time!!!

[arkos404]

prohibitedwish enemies to lovers but prismo is into scarab in the enemies part just as much as in the lovers part

refs

btw i never watched the original souce material of any of these so dont read too deep into it, i just found them outta context on pinterest and thought "damn thats them" and passed out and woke up with this

[hazel2468]

"UWU op defends Israel UWU"-

Have I not made it clear enough what I think of the Israeli government? Have I not made it clear enough that what infuriates me the MOST about all of this shit going on is that neither government gives a damn and civilians will CONTINUE to die because Hamas and Netanyahu are cranking that war machine for their own benefit? Have I not made it clear that I think what the Israeli government is doing is fucking horrific, a war crime, murder, a violation of human rights?

Why do I even need to MAKE that clear? Why is it that you can talk about LITERALLY anything else, any other country, and people don't rush to fucking accuse you of personally supporting the government when you discuss the wrongs committed against a people, but the SECOND you're a Jew you have to justify your stance about Israel?

Why is it that I cannot even be angry about the slaughter of MY FUCKING PEOPLE. Innocents. Civilians. Fucking CHILDREN. The slaughter of the Palestinian people. Innocents. Civilians. FUCKING CHILDREN.

Without one of you absolute fucking monsters deciding to slap some shit on an unrelated post about how "uwu op defends an apartheid state just ignore that"? Do you have to make it part of EVERYTHING I do? Do you consider everything I put out there tainted somehow because I don't support your joy, your cheering, your unrestrained GLEE at the murder of Jews? Do I need to publish a fucking thesis on my stance on Israel, Palestine, and their respective governments like a fucking disclaimer any time I want to talk about myself, my oppression, my experience as a Jew, or a disabled person, or a queer person, because you fuckers cannot for five seconds be NORMAL about Jews?

To decide to slap something about Israel and Palestine on a post I made about MY oppression, about how people will oppress you no matter who you actually are- it all depends who they think you are. It's a bit ironic, isn't it? Doesn't QUITE fit, but it's funny that someone would read that post, agree with it, and then think "Ah yes, THIS is the place to put some tags about how OP, a Jew who has been reeling for the last couple of weeks about the violence, who has been checking on their Israeli friends every day to make sure they aren't fucking dead, who is dealing with vicious antisemitism from people who they thought were friends, who watched as the people claiming to be progressive supporters of human rights on this hellsite and others OVERWHELMINGLY reply to the murder of their people with good they deserved it fuck you, is CLEARLY a defender of an apartheid state and that makes them a bad person because something something I don't know what nuance tastes like and I am a bigoted ass."

I am TIRED.

[some-pers0n]

I'm gonna stop with even attempting nuance and reason anymore and just say whatever I want. Albatross did absolutely nothing wrong he's a lil' blorbo goober he's just a silly guy you're all just mean to him </3

"He killed so many dragons though??? He did the massacre?" Sheesh you're really hung up on that whole "killing three dozen people" part like he was just cranky and grumpy from the party and his bitch sister talking about replacing him after years of her using him for his magic alone. He was just tired and eepy and there was too much noise and people and he got overstimulated and upset :( He did nothing wrong he was just a bit silly

Like look at him! Lovely little smile of an innocent dragon :] Don't mind the randoms in the back they're just playing dead for fun

[moeblob]

What if I straight up didn't explain myself? What if I just said trust me on this? Would you?

[loosethreadsofyoursoul]

ok this is a controversial opinion but like….. to me, henry spencer was actually not a shit father….. hear me out.

i understand that there’s a lot of subtleties that go into emotionally abusive parents, and i’m not trying to dismiss that, but honestly i just don’t see all the negativity that gets associated with him so often. also, between henry and madeleine, one parent actually seemed to be there when shawn was growing up, and it wasn’t his mother.

let’s look at shawn’s childhood. in all the flashbacks, henry was the one who volunteered at shawn’s school, who took him to movies and was around for all of his new hobbies and interests. he was the one making sure shawn did his homework and hung out with his friends and learned life lessons. granted, some of his teaching methods were not appropriate for a kid shawn’s age, so yes i can see where the criticisms come in and i agree with them. but he was so much more than his mistakes, he was the parent who cared.

when shawn grows up, yes there’s animosity between him and his father but to be quite honest, i’ve never met one person who doesn’t have unresolved daddy issues so that in itself doesn’t condemn henry in my mind. we see how much henry saved from shawn’s childhood and how much he remembers, and to me he actually does quite a bit to help shawn when he needs it. this is particularly telling in comparison to madeleine, who isn’t there to begin with and eventually we find out she really did leave her kid behind, and to me that does a lot more damage than any one thing henry did.

shawn and henry have issues, i won’t argue with that. but i really don’t think henry gets enough credit for the good he did and the way he tried when shawn got older. above all else, he was there and he was there for shawn, and that’s important. god knows it’s not everything, but it’s something.

[myreia]

— vi. stay | follow

It is an inevitability, she feels, that they are always a little out of step, a little out of sync. One ahead, the other behind, a shadow to the other’s light. Pulled together not by fate nor by destiny, but by a small series of choices that are greater than the sum of its parts. They will always find each other—to the very end.

[alchemie0]

You’re telling me… that the Six of Crows duology, the series that has gotten me into reading again, has a SHOW? That might actually be GOOD?? And IT’S BEEN CANCELLED???????????

[beatx-mavie-archangelx]

there should've been at least a full view of Fíli's body in the funeral scene

"Fíli you didn't deserve any of this" we all say in unison

[naamahdarling]

.

[relicsongmel]

Reblog if you love this girl ❤️

[triglycercule]

horror having crazy irrational thoughts about food,,,,, like bro thinks there's poison in the cupcakes. someone snuck razor blades into the bread and once he takes a bit it'll cut him up. somehow there's mold growing inside the bananas and when he eats it the mold colony is gonna start growing on HIM and then he'll become a moldy skeleton and oh god and oh god and he is paranoid but hes so hungry.... BUT WHAY ABOUT BUGS IN THR FOOD,,,, BUT HES HUNGRY.... a struggle it truly is

probably doesnt help that dust and killer could feed into it. killer could make off hand remarks on how he snuck razor blades into the meat horror's attempting to eat (to fuck around with horror. just some eeeever so slight psychological anguish. and also because killer would just be the type of casually carry those around. what for you may ask well decide for yourself) and then immediately horror's mood drops and he storms out of the dining room. dust and horror go on a sweet little picnic in a beautiful field and its all beautiful and inconspicuous but dust made the food and horror knows that look in his eyes. horror knows dust was muttering something about chemicals a day or 2 ago. the food is poisoned isnt it??? and dust just smiles and motions for horror to eat it

[hanzajesthanza]

also i realize i'm saying all these noble and beautiful things about the channel from the purest depths of my heart. but actually i'm also just doing this because i fucking love the witcher books and it pisses me off that people don't know about them that much in english and i can only go for so long (seven years) with people not knowing that there are books. or that the witcher is from the 90s. or polish.

[echo-goes-mmm]

Ambrose and Elliot #31

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: emotional abuse

10

Ambrose was a bad son.

Or at least, that’s what his parents said. Well, they didn’t say it, but he knew. If he were a better son, they wouldn’t be criticizing him all the time.

“Are you sure you should be eating all that?” commented his mother. Ambrose put down his spoon, heat rising to his face.

Father took a sip of water, unbothered.

“I- I’m just hungry,” he said, “it was tournament day at school.”

“Don’t talk back to your mother,” ordered Father.

“Yes, sir.”

“Well,” mother swished her hair, “at least you got some exercise in. You need it.” She looked him up and down, and Ambrose sank in his seat.

“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed miserably.

“Sit up straight,” Father added. “Real men don’t slouch.”

“Sorry.”

___________________

13

Ambrose looked down at the remains of his stuffed lion, Leo. Mother delicately plucked the cotton off of her scissors.

“You’re too old for toys,” she said, her voice calm and emotionless. “I’m doing you a favor, because I love you. You can’t grow up by holding onto silly stuffed animals.”

“Grandmother gave it to me,” he said, numb.

“Regardless. You’re fourteen years old; you need to grow up.”

“Thirteen,” he whispered. “I’m thirteen.”

“Don’t talk back to me.” She turned to go. “And clean up this fluff.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ambrose picked up Leo and stuffed him in the trash.

Sorry, grandmother.

___________________

16

Ambrose woke up to someone banging on his door.

He stumbled out of bed, still groggy, and opened the door to see his father, furious.

Ambrose was awake in an instant.

“What is this?” hissed father, a paper in his hand.

“I- I don’t know-”

“Don’t lie to me!” Father pushed his way into his room, shoving Ambrose backwards. “I know what you’ve been up to!”

“What are you talking about?”

Father waved the paper in his face, and Ambrose could read the words.

His report card from school. His heart sank.

“You’re slacking,” accused Father. “I can’t believe you would disgrace me like this! A B minus?”

“I’m sorry. I really tried-”

“Try harder. You won’t be leaving this room until you do.” Father turned on his heel, and slammed the door behind him.

Ambrose flinched, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

___________________

19

“Oh how lovely,” Mother smiled, swirling her glass. “I’m so glad your daughter is doing well.”

The party guests all looked beautiful in their suits and long dresses, and Ambrose felt distinctly out of place.

It was supposed to be his graduation celebration, but not a single one of his few friends had been invited. Ruffians, his mother had called them.

He was miserable.

“So,” the lady leaned forward towards Mother, a smile on her face, “Is Ambrose going into the family business now that he’s finished school?”

“Not yet,” laughed Mother in her perfect, soft voice, “He’ll be serving in the army for a few years first, just like his father.”

Ambrose stopped breathing.

“We’re all so proud,” Mother said.

The lady turned to Ambrose, and he forced a smile. Mother’s mouth twitched, and Ambrose knew it wasn’t good enough.

“Wonderful!” the woman exclaimed. “You know, my daughter loves a man in uniform,” she winked.

Ambrose felt sick.

“Is that so?” he asked lightly, nausea swirling in his gut.

“Oh yes. She’s single, at the moment. I could introduce you. Such a lovely girl.”

“I’m afraid Ambrose is already engaged,” interrupted Mother smoothly.

Fuck. He was?

“Ah, well. Worth a shot.”

The two women laughed with faux politeness.

Ambrose’s face grew hot.

“Are you alright, dear?” asked the lady.

“Oh, yes,” he stammered. “I just need some water. Pardon me.” He politely excused himself from the conversation.

Ambrose slipped out the back door, towards the balcony, sucking in the fresh air.

His parents had his whole life planned out. He never had a chance. There was never any hope, was there?

They paraded him around like a prized pet and screamed at him in private. They had no intention of letting him breathe, to be himself.

He thought… he thought after school he could at least have some freedom but…

Gods, they had probably already planned his wedding. He could just see his mother picking out the rings, the colors, the honeymoon. His father nodding in approval, telling him how many children he ought to have. For all he knew, it was already decided.

They never cared about what he wanted, and never would.

Bitterness blossomed on his tongue.

“There you are,” said Mother behind him. “You need to rejoin the party.”

“Why bother?”

He couldn’t see her, but he knew what face she was making. An empty one.

“It’s your graduation party. I’d hate for you to feel embarrassed in front of all these people.” 

He hated when she did that; pretending she was looking out for him when really she was looking out for herself.

“You mean your party. I don’t know any of them.” Ambrose adjusted the cufflink on his sleeve.

“Ambrose,” she said, firm and unyielding. “That guest list is full of important people. You’d be wise to befriend them. It’s what’s best for your future.”

He turned to face her. Mother’s perfectly styled hair was blowing in the wind, and he felt smug knowing she hated that the wind was outside her control.

“Sounds like you already have that planned out,” he said calmly. “I won’t be going back in.”

Mother turned up her nose. “Fine,” she said, cold as always. “You will deal with the consequences, then.”

___________________

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” screamed Father. Ambrose stared up at him, silently seething. “You embarrassed them, you embarrassed us! How dare you?”

Ambrose said nothing.

Mother stood by the doorway, her face like stone. But he knew she was enjoying this. Anger boiled inside of him.

“I don’t give a shit,” he snapped. 

Mother’s eyes went wide and her crossed arms fell at her side.

Father gaped, his face red with rage.

“What did you say?” He demanded.

Ambrose stood up, and gleefully noted his father stepped back.

“I said, I don’t give a shit.”

Father slapped him across the face, and Mother gasped.

“Are you crazy?” she demanded, grabbing his arm. “You’ll leave a mark!”

Ambrose laughed.

Of course. She didn’t care about him any more than she cared about a painting, or a vase.

He was just a decoration to show off.

“You think this is funny?” Father’s voice lowered to a snarl. “The officers are coming to pick you up tomorrow morning. I suggest you pack.”

Father turned and stalked out.

Mother looked at him, her face turning soft. She put a hand to his cheek, and Ambrose pretended, just for a moment, that it was care and not for show.

“Ambrose,” she said, “my darling boy. Don’t disappoint me again.”

“Of course, Mother.”

Mother dropped her hand and left, the door closing softly behind her.

Ambrose fell back on his bed. He grabbed a pillow and screamed into it, until his voice was hoarse. He lowered the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. He needed to leave. He needed to leave right now.

Ambrose got up, ripped off his tie and threw it at the wall.

The rest of his suit followed, along with his dress shoes. They thudded against the wall, and it was immensely satisfying. Father would be furious when he saw the scuffs.

Ambrose tugged on his favorite clothes, pulled out his duffel bag, and began to stuff it with the rest of his comfortable clothes.

He wasn’t going to the army. He was going somewhere, anywhere, just as long as his parents wouldn’t find him.

He looked out the window, and saw the roofs of the temples glittering in the evening light. 

Mother and Father hated temples; what with their charity work and dirty commoners and ‘garish decor!’ as Mother often sneered. 

It was beneath them.

It was perfect. They would never set foot in a place like that.

And Ambrose knew exactly which one he would go to.

If he was going into hiding, the god of secrets would surely welcome him.

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[highlyillogicalandroid]

If my cats could stop being sick and stressing me out and costing me thousands of dollars that would be great

[alluralater]

hey everyone, i won’t be as active for a while. got home last night super late after being on the road for 20 some odd hours. dealing with some family things and as an older sister, my priority of taking care of my siblings comes first before anything else. being on here is amazing for me but i don’t think i’ll have much time for it. reminder to please treat those in your life who are battling addiction with patience and care. i lost my older brother (sweetest person i’ve ever known and he remained that way up until his last night) to suicide and alcoholism, trauma and ptsd, depression and his feelings of hopelessness. talk with the people you care about. another of my siblings is dealing with the same and i refuse to let it escalate to such a terrifying end twice in less than a fucking year. remind the people you care about that there are beautiful things to live for. show them kindness and love. there is all kinds of misinformation out there but know this, you can make a difference for someone. don’t let them suffer in silence.