#So... grain of salt and all that

[ailithnight]

In fairness, water can have tastes and different waters (even different tap waters) can taste different. The tap where I live now tastes drastically different from the tap in Nashville where I grew up. Bottled water is the same. Both different brands and different localities of the same brand since most bottling places actually get their water local.

Interestingly, I hated the tap in Nashville. Although, there where other factors in my life at the time that steered me more often to sweet and caffeine, so... Anyway. The tap where I live now is tolerable. Don't love it, but I'll drink it when I'm thirsty. We didn't get much bottled water growing up (grandmother just didn't buy it often), so I don't really have a comparison there. But there's pretty much always bottled water here. And to my tastes, it's good water. Perfectly agreeable taste. And guess what! I drink a lot more water now than I ever did before.

Now before you say 'filter' at me like I'm dense. If I understand correctly, there are three primary factors (outside of an individuals plumbing situation) that affect how water tastes. Source, treatment, additives.

Even clean water can and usually does have trace minerals. Since water itself doesn't really have a flavor, what you are tasting is going to be that mineral profile.

It should come as no surprise that where exactly water comes from is going to affect what trace minerals are in it and how much of them there are.

Different localities also tend to have very slightly different treatment standards and processes. Which, again, will have different affects on that mineral composition. But the basics are the same. Disinfect and filter the water several times to remove impurities until it meets water purity standards.

The addition of things like chlorine and fluoride is once more going to add things which have a flavor to the otherwise flavorless water. And again, different places, slightly different practices. Additionally, bottled water companies like Dasani actually add trace minerals (after filtration) to try to keep a mostly consistent flavor around the world.

So; Source, Treatment, Additives. Now, an at home filter like a Brita is basically a secondary treatment process. So take a wild fuckin guess what running water through your filters is going to do.

(BTW, did you know that the chlorine added to water dissipates on it's own in an open container? That's why chlorine pools have to keep adding more. And also why my grandmother insisted on letting the water she watered her plants with sit in a pitcher for half an hour before dumping it on her flowers.)

All in all, water tastes like where it's from and what's been done to make it potable. Some people notice happen to notice this.

I wanna respect everyone’s preferences and I DO but there is a difference between Respecting and Understanding and that is where I am at with people who actively dislike Drinking Water. I know you exist. My brother is one of you. The Fuck do you mean “it tastes bad” it has the least amount of taste a thing can have. Fucking Air Scented LaCroix. “It tastes bad” fucking WINDEX tastes bad COW SHIT tastes bad. what the hell are you talking about

[cirrocula]

shaggy hair roy harper bc i enjoy the trope where characters with hidden eyes actually have hawklike vision

[honeypiehotchner]

Couldn't Make It Any Harder (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

Anxious girlies rise!!! I'm just fantasizing about someone staying and not being an asshole and in my mind Hotch would stay and wouldn't be an asshole, so this was born (also yes I listened to Sabrina Carpenter's song by the same title while I wrote this!)

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst all over the place, very anxious reader, Hotch being the kindest and most understanding man alive, est. relationship, fluff!, maybe autistic!reader if you squint

WC: 3.2k

Dating Aaron Hotchner is never short of any surprises. 

With how hectic his work schedule can be, plans are often impromptu and random text messages before phone calls asking if you’re free for anything: dinner, a drink, a movie, a walk.

Dating him is also never short of innocent questions. 

These, you didn’t expect, but maybe you should’ve — or would’ve, if you truly understood what his job is. He explained it to you, but it’s hard for you to wrap your head around the fact that he’s part of a team of people so good at reading the behavior of other people that they can catch criminals based on it alone. 

His job almost seemed fake, too good to be true — and so did he. 

Especially when, after a month of dating, neither of you had stayed the night with one another, and he wasn’t pressing the subject when he’d suggest it and you’d politely tell him no.

You almost thought it meant he didn’t like you at all and was only being nice by going on dates with you, even though he didn’t seem like that kind of guy at all. Still, you can never be too careful. 

And when he made reservations for your six-month anniversary at a fancy restaurant downtown, and told you when he’d pick you up, and even showed up a few minutes early but told you to take your time, you thought you were going insane. There was no way it was true, that he was true. 

But he was. And is. 

Except, your relationships have a shelf life. Or rather, you have a shelf life. 

None of your previous relationships have made it this far, none of them too thrilled about the fact that you’re not well-experienced sexually, or the fact that you want to actually wait until you feel secure in a relationship before taking that step. Of course, none of them said that was the reason they were ending things, but you knew. You could tell. 

After having it happen to you multiple times, you can’t let yourself relax. Any time that you feel like you’re maybe going to get comfortable, some anxious thought rears its ugly head and sets you right back where you were.

You try your hardest to enjoy the relationship with Aaron, and you do. Knowing his work schedule varies allows you to keep your distance, making it easier to keep telling yourself that you’re keeping your guard up. You’re keeping yourself protected for when the inevitable other shoe drops to the ground like a bomb.

So, it’s no surprise that as your relationship approaches the eight-month mark, and Aaron asks if you’d like to come over to his place for dinner on a random weeknight after a couple weeks of not seeing each other, you think the worst. 

“How do I look?” you ask your best friend over FaceTime as you spin in a circle. “Hot enough to be broken up with?”

“You are not getting broken up with!” she cries over the phone. “And yes, hot, as always.”

“Thanks,” you sigh, strategically not commenting on her theory that you’ll still have a boyfriend by the end of tonight. 

“He’s not going to break up with you,” she says again, softer this time. “He’s different.”

“I always think they’re different, that’s the problem,” you mutter. “He just took a lot longer than I thought he would.” You don’t need to spell it out for your best friend to know that this one will hurt the worst out of them all.

Because this time, you love him.

“You don’t know that he’s going to break up with you.”

“You know that gut feeling I always had before the others?” you say, looking at her solemnly. “I have it right now.”

She frowns. You almost think she’s going to argue with you, but she doesn’t. Because she knows. You had the same gut feeling the last five times. Why would it be wrong on the sixth? 

“I’m sorry,” she finally says. 

“It’s okay,” you shrug, picking up your purse and lifting your phone. You glance at the clock. “I guess I should go.”

He offered to pick you up, but you said you’d drive yourself. You figure you’d rather do your future self a favor and save yourself from the awkward post-breakup drive home. 

“Call me after,” she says with another sad smile. “We can cry if you need to.”

“Thank you.”

“And hey, if he does break up with you, I can come up this weekend and key his car for you.”

“Babe. He works for the FBI.”

“So?”

You laugh as you roll your eyes. “Goodbye. I’ll call you later.”

You drive to Aaron’s in complete silence. You don’t even intend to, you’re just on autopilot.

You’re trying not to shut down emotionally, but you can already feel it happening. It’s inevitable when you feel like you’re about to be hurt. The shield goes up, the walls raise, and nothing gets past them.

With any luck, you won’t even cry when he breaks up with you. You don’t always, which gets you labeled as a cold hearted bitch, but that doesn’t bother you. 

You put your brave face on when you pull into his driveway, only it quickly morphs into shock when Aaron comes out the front door in dark jeans and a black button down. He opens your car door for you with an easy, genuine smile, looking as handsome and happy to see you as ever. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you chuckle nervously, stepping out and letting him shut your car door.

“I wanted to,” he shrugs, leaning in for a kiss. 

You accept it, trying not to seem so stiff, but the slight furrow of his eyebrows tells you that he felt it. He doesn’t say anything about it though. 

“Come on,” he murmurs, one hand on the small of your back as he walks you inside. “I’ve never made this for dinner before, so we might end up with pizza.”

“All good,” you laugh, setting your purse in its usual spot on the table by the door. 

The conversation is fine, if a little awkward, as you sit in his kitchen so he can keep an eye on dinner in the oven. He offers wine and you decline, just taking some water. He keeps furrowing his eyebrows just a little, his tell for when he’s reading your behavior but doesn’t quite know what to make of it yet.

You sip your water and avoid eye contact while he shuffles around the kitchen, finishing up dinner. 

He washes his hands, leaning back against the sink as he dries his hands with a towel. He watches you with a soft expression.

“Is everything okay?” he finally asks.

You hate when they do this. Because if you say you’ve had a rough day, they won’t break up with you because they don’t want to “make it worse”. But if you say you’ve had a good day, they will go through with the breakup, because they’d rather ruin your good mood instead of make the bad mood worse. 

“Yep,” you say with a tiny smile. “Just watching you.”

He returns the smile, but it’s not at all easy like before. 

Fuck. Should you just rip the band-aid off and ask? 

You nearly do, but then he says dinner should be ready, and you can’t. You almost expect to be eating right here at the stools on his counter, or for him to break the news and you leave without eating, but he waves you through to the dining room. 

You follow after him, a little confused, stopping dead in your tracks in the doorway when you see the sight before you. 

A white table cloth over his little square table, candles in the middle, a small bouquet of your favorite flowers set aside to make room for the dish he made, plates and cutlery and a wine glass already laid out on either side. 

“What is this?” you ask, your heart hammering in your chest and threatening to escape up your throat. 

“Our favorite restaurant was fully booked,” he explains with an awkward laugh. “So I tried to recreate one we always order, and thought I’d try to recreate the table too. It’s a little…wonky, but it’s close enough I think.”

You blink. “Why?”

The deep concern returns to his face. “Because I want to.”

“But why?” you ask again, staring at him with wide eyes, like you’re trying to catch him in something.

He comes closer, the worry on his face only growing. “We haven’t been able to have dinner together in a couple weeks because the cases have been packed, so I wanted it to be special.”

“Okay,” you swallow, nodding slowly. He just wanted it to be special. Right. “Okay.”

“Come sit,” he says softly, hands reaching out for you as if he needs to steady you. You kind of need him to. 

After he safely has you tucked into your seat, and he’s brought your water over for you to drink, he sits in the chair beside you. 

“Dinner’s gonna get cold,” you murmur, not wanting to be the subject of his profiling right now. You stare down at the empty plate. 

“I can warm it back up,” he says, taking one of your hands. “Can I ask you a question?”

Skeptical, you nod.

“Why do you always seem so shocked when I do something nice for you?”

Your eyes close as you grimace. Great. Now he thinks you’re ungrateful on top of it all. 

“I don’t mean it in a rude way,” he clarifies, his thumb rubbing back and forth on your hand, soothing you. “I just mean…when you ask why I do these things, like dinner and bring you flowers and open your car door, and I say I’m doing it because I want to… You almost look like you don’t believe me, and today you really look like you don’t believe me.”

“I do believe you,” you rush to say, but now he looks like he doesn’t believe you. “Or maybe I don’t,” you add quietly, looking back down at where your fingers are tangled. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize, honey,” he says, and he sounds so desperate that it makes your heart ache. “I just want to understand you better.”

Your face crumples at that, the emotion too much to keep at bay when he’s being this kind to you and you were thinking he was going to break up with you — and he still could.

“Sorry,” you sniffle, your free hand coming up to cover your mouth as you shake your head. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not, it’s not stupid,” he says, using both hands to hold yours. “Is it something I did? Or said?”

“No, it’s just—” you cut yourself off, letting out a shaky breath. “I thought you were breaking up with me tonight.”

He stills. And it makes your heart freeze. You caught him. Here it is. You brace for impact. 

“Honey, I— That’s not at all what I was planning on doing tonight. What made you think that I was going to break up with you?”

“You invited me to dinner at your place,” you cry, and when you say it out loud like that, it really doesn’t make any sense. 

“Why would I do that if I was going to break up with you?” 

“You wouldn’t believe the ways I’ve been broken up with,” you let out a laugh, trying to make light of this now very emotional and awkward situation. “I’m sorry, I’m ruining what was supposed to be a very normal, romantic dinner—”

“Listen to me, you are not ruining anything,” he says firmly, still looking up at you with those kind brown eyes. “I just want to understand what’s going on in that brain of yours.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

“Trust me, I do.”

You stare at him for a moment, wondering when the twist is coming. The moment he says it was all a ruse and he is ending things. The moment you can call his bluff. 

But it never comes. His gaze doesn’t waver, and neither does the care in his eyes. 

“Okay,” you murmur. “But can we talk over dinner or after? It smells really good.”

He laughs at that, the sound warming you from the inside out. His smile is infectious as he nods and says, “Of course we can. We should probably taste this and see if we need to put in a pizza order.”

He moves his plate so he stays sitting right beside you, where he can keep his hand tucked in yours. It feels safe. 

One bite in and you’re amazed at how well he recreated the dish and how good it tastes. You’re too busy devouring the food to even think about explaining your thought process behind tonight anymore.

Except, Aaron does return to the subject, not wanting to let it go just yet, because clearly you have him spooked after saying you thought you were going to be broken up with. 

So, you explain. There was the guy who broke up with you on your birthday. And one who did it a day before Valentine’s Day. And another who decided that mid-six-month-anniversary date was prime time to end things. And then a couple others with bad timing but not the worst. But all had one thing in common. 

“I know we haven’t had sex yet and I guess I’ve just grown to realize I have a shelf life.”

Aaron looks alarmed. “Shelf life?”

“Yeah, like, I tell people I want to wait before I take the step to do anything sexually, and I only have so much time before me being desirable…expires, I guess.”

He blinks. You watch what looks like a thousand emotions cross his face at once and you’re unable to read any of them. “Did someone…say that to you?”

You shake your head. “Not really. Not exactly those words. But I kind of came to the conclusion after the third time it happened. I guess I just expect it now.”

Aaron is quiet for a moment, thumbs rubbing gentle circles on the back of your hand. You’re not sure at all of what he’s going to say. “The last time we had dinner before my work schedule got so crazy these last two weeks…did we move too fast?”

You try to think back to that night. It was dinner and then the two of you came back to Aaron’s for a drink. Nothing crazy because you needed to drive home still. But the two of you did get pretty hot and heavy on the couch.

Come to think of it, you didn’t drink much at all that night, because there was hardly a moment to spare when Aaron’s lips weren’t on yours, or on your neck, or your collarbones.

It didn’t escalate. He offered, you declined, said you wanted to just continue what you were doing, and that was that.

Then, you didn’t see Aaron for two weeks because of his work schedule, which meant phone calls were short and rare and text messages were as good as you could get. And so your mind put pieces together and created a scenario that wasn’t true.

“We didn’t,” you say, genuinely meaning it. “But I guess my brain freaked out because it thought you had finally had enough of hearing me turn you down and that I had finally…expired, I guess.”

He squeezes your hand. “Please don’t ever talk about yourself that way. You don’t have an expiration date. And I don’t care that we haven’t taken that step yet. I am willing to wait as long as you need to—”

“That’s what they always say,” you murmur through a watery smile. “But thanks.”

He frowns. “How can I make you believe me?” he whispers.

“I don’t know,” you reply truthfully, your face crumpling again. Your hand slips from his so you can cover your face, sniffling hard into your palms. “I’m sorry. I know I don’t make it easy.”

“Honey…don’t make what easy?”

“Dating me,” you sob, not knowing if he can even understand you through the tears. “I get it if you— If this is your limit, I get it. I'd understand.” You sniffle again, wiping your face and nose and trying to regain any sort of composure that you can find. 

Aaron looks up at you, and after a moment too long of silence, you almost think he’s actually going to do it, but he doesn’t. He does the opposite.

“I love you,” he says. 

You inhale sharply, wiping under your nose again. “You do?”

He doesn’t move to grab your hands after you’ve taken them away, but he reaches toward you, nodding. “I wanted to say it at our favorite restaurant, but that fell through, so I thought I’d make it special and tell you here instead, but…I had no idea you were feeling like this.”

“I didn’t wanna tell you in case I was right,” you murmur. “I didn’t want to scare you away by being too needy, I guess.”

He smiles gently. “Nothing is going to scare me away,” he assures you, taking your hand again. “Can I ask a favor, though?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you tell me the next time you’re feeling like this?” he asks softly. “I want to be able to help, but I can’t if I don’t know what’s going on. And I hate the thought of you silently suffering with this when I’m right here and I can give you the reassurance you need.”

You nod more now. “I can. I can do that.” You pause. “Hey Aaron?”

“Yes, honey?”

“I love you too,” you reply, feeling a wave of relief come over you after you let it out, knowing he feels the same. It makes fresh tears spring into your eyes all over again. “I’ve felt it for so long and I think it was scaring me because I can’t ever let myself relax into a relationship without worrying that something is going to go wrong—”

He hauls you into his arms without another moment’s hesitation, letting you cry into his shoulder. It’s all the months of worry building up and finally boiling over, and he lets you get it all out.

“I’m so sorry,” you say into his neck, taking in shaky breaths.

“Please don’t apologize, honey,” he replies, rubbing circles on your back. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Thank you for listening,” you say, barely able to get the words out through the emotion in your voice. You take a deep breath, relaxing further into his arms while simultaneously gripping his shirt as hard as you can. This has exhausted you.

“Do you want to move to the couch?” he asks. “We can put on that show we were watching together. I can pour us some wine if that might help you calm down?”

You nod into his neck, not quite wanting to leave this spot just yet. “I’d like that,” you sigh. “Can we stay like this for a minute?”

“Of course,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple. “We can stay as long as you need.”

[madbard]

I just played through Slay the Princess for the first time, and… I cannot stop thinking about the Cage.

To be profoundly and finally severed from the illusion of your autonomy. To look on, from a prison of your own making, as your body acts out a legacy of violence against the body of the only other person who can or will come near you. To see their body perform that same violent dance. To be bound to this person, and in your limited state not to understand why. In that moment, as the silhouettes in the shadows act out the story of the princess and the slayer, to share a moment of peace with the one sent to kill you.

Intertwined. Diminished. Reductive, mutually destructive. Trapped in an infinite dance.

Beautiful.

To have been so determined you never had free will, never could have found another way. To realize you may have been wrong. To be trapped in a pattern, but unaware of what that pattern truly is.

Still, for that finite and watchful moment, not to be alone.

(Mild gore under cut.)

(Also this art from the game haunts me.)

[szynkaaa]

kicks down everyone's door folks I might have figured out how tall Sun Wukong/Destined One is in Black Myth Wukong.

Starting with a disclaimer that this is just my speculation and nothing is confirmed unless the dev state otherwise

So y'know how the collector's edition came with this amazing Wukong figurine:

amazing right? I want one too.

The description states that the figure is 40cm tall (according to playasia)

The figure is made by Queen Studio, specifically the INART team that makes 1:6 figures.

So we know that the figure is 40cm tall. It is not clear if that includes stand or not, and I was not able to find any information how tall the stand is

On another website (which I don't want to name because I don't know how serious the website is) lists up the figure as 315mm/31.5cm

If that is the height of the actual figure without stand, and it's a 1:6 figure, that means 31.5cm * 6 = 189 cm

So that means it is very possible Destined One/Sun Wukong is 189 cm / 6 feet 2 inch tall.

that is TALL. a lot taller than I thought he would be tbh LOL cause in the books he is usually described as the shortest (cause well, monkey)

which ALSO means.

Wukong better be paying for her chiropractor with the amount of crancking her neck up she has to do.

EDIT 07/01/2025

Some more evidence that the Destined One / Sun Wukong may around 180-190cm tall in the game:

Justin's Collection posted a very detailed and unboxing and review video for the 1:6 scaled figure that came with the Collector's Edition, which you can watch here.

There is one where the Destined One stands next to the VTS TOYS Ghost of Tsushima ~Jin Sakai figure, which is also a 1:6 scale

I tried to find how tall the Jin Sakai figure is, and according to this reseller website, it is listed up as 30 cm

30*6 = 180 cm

if you look at the eyebrow level as pointed out by @blackknight-kai, chances are our Monkey is a wee bit taller

My previous math put DO/SWK at 189cm without base, and 180 - 190cm does sound about right.

I know that in some game screenshots, Monkey looks very tiny compared to the enemies, with NPCs also sometimes being 2-3 times his size.

I personally think this was done for the gaming experience, because it is easier to see enemies and their moves when they are bigger, but when you look at the opening cinematic of SWK and Erlang fighting, Erlang is just a bit taller than Wukong

Here is a screenshot of Pingping next to DO, we don't know how tall Pingping is but say she is average women height (160cm?) the height difference would make sense

So yeah. Please keep in mind the height is not officially confirmed, just what my math is mathing base don the officially released figure!

[whoisnotmyname]

A very short and messy How I draw mabari!

[isatartdump]

Would do the entire dialogue but drawing Bonnie crying is the bane of my existence! HA

Anyway my reaction to when this entire dialogue was over was just. Hihi.

[starscelly]

updated(ish) edition of YOUR local dallas punk band, The Flying Stars !

original character sheets

band au tag

[allimili]

I trust you.

[graythursday]

‘gotham gazette’ newspaper promo for ‘the penguin’ hints at harvey dent addition to the universe— “is our legal system dented beyond repair?” + riddler crumbs :>

[yunuen]

Hi! I'm reading the kiss scene and as I understand it, the main reason Viktor stops Jayce is because he doesn't want to ruin Jayce's life. If I get it right, what future does Viktor imagine for Jayce? Him having a wife and children or something like that?

If you're still at the kiss scene maybe you should just keep reading the 40k or so words you have left! but no, it's not because Viktor thinks Jayce should uphold the nuclear family but because Viktor, as written, is dealing with what amounts to ptsd, dissociative disorder with a side of depersonalisation, a fuckton of guilt, self-loathing, sexual anhedonia and the dude he's always wanted suddenly being like "hey now that i am far away from friends and family and isolated from all i know i'm suddenly down to make out!!". it's not necessarily "I'm going to ruin your life" but "i don't think you want me at all and i don't think there's even a me to want anymore"

[hp-lonesome-actual-art]

I’m very normal about Puzzles guys please believe me. I did not stay up to 2am one night making a self-insert queerplatonic ship story in a sketchbook, your eyes deceive you 😭

I’ll try to translate the dialogue here in a more readable/cohesive way for anyone who wants to pry….

The premise is that they’re either visiting an aquarium or some local pet shop together. Either way, my doodlesona encounters a fish tank and wants Puzzles to look closer at the fishies

Doodlesona: Oh Puzzles! Take a look at this one!

Mr. Puzzles (amused/slightly condescending tone): Hm? You mean these simple fish somehow managed to catch your eye—*a fish sprays him with water and Puzzles screams out in shock*

*Jumpcut to another location. My doodlesona is trying to clean the water off of Puzzles screen using towels in the shops restroom stall. Puzzles is begrudgingly sitting on the closed toilet seat, very upset. His anger makes doodlesona nervous*

Doodelsona: Rrrrright…electronics and water don’t mix well together ahaha….we can avoid it next time…

Mr. Puzzles: Never. Again. Alright?

Doodlesona: Yes yes I know, that was a close call! B-but still a little bit funny, no…?

Mr. Puzzles: No.

Doodlesona:….okay, no more fish. Sorry. Got it, lesson learned—I promise it won’t get repeated. Just let me help clean you off. Then we can leave, okay?

Mr. Puzzles: Fine, finish up. Don’t take too much longer

*Puzzles remains grumpy, closing his eyes in further annoyance. But after a while, he begins to settle into a state of calm. It isn’t often that he allows people to touch his screen/T.V head, so the feeling of someone tending to him is foreign. He doesn’t mind it as much as he thought he would, and even leans into the touch for a moment*

Doodlesona: In all honestly, I’m pretty relieved none of it leaked into your circuitry. I don’t think there’s much I could’ve done if any real damage happened, probably would have need repairs

Mr. Puzzles (somewhat sheepish, as he’s trying to hide the fact he enjoys physical contact): Yes, that would be a rather unpleasant outcome, but not overly dire—

Doodlesona: On a brighter note, the water has all been soaked up! Don’t worry, I won’t touch anything mor—

*Puzzles quickly grabs doodlesona’s hand before it is completely pulled away*

Mr. Puzzles: H-HANG ON a moment!

*A comedically awkward pause as Puzzles registers how loud and frantic he was behaving (whilst still clinging to the hand) *

Doodlesona:…uh….yea? Why?

Mr. Puzzles (formulating excuse): AH well I was just thinking…it’s better to be cautious and ensure a thorough cleaning then risk any minor water damage!

*he points to his vents*

Mr. Puzzles: You uh, you had forgotten the vents….

*Doodlesona stares at him dumbfounded, slowly trying to mentally figure out what’s going on*

Doodlesona: Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh *finally processing* oooooOOOOOOHHH! Huh, I thought the water only splashed the front of your screen instead of reaching the sides—that’s my bad, sorry. Should’ve asked to make sure

*Puzzles in the background, lying through his digital teeth, gives out a squeamish ‘mhm!’ as confirmation. Doodlesona positions her hands back on Puzzles head to balance it again*

Doodlesona: Okay stay put, gotta focus on cleaning again

Mr. Puzzles: Yesyes of course, take your time!!! As long as you need to be thorough! I’ll wait!

*Doodlesona resumes cleaning and Puzzles is in a state of bliss. He never knew how much he longed for human contact till now*

Doodlesona: That any better?

Mr. Puzzles: Hm? Oh, yes it’s going great. A while longer with suffice

*Puzzles remains peacefully happy and gives out a content sigh, until doodlesona begins trying to clean the antennas too. The contact unexpectedly shocks him so he stands up immediately, covering his antennas with his hands*

Mr. Puzzles (semi-flustered and talking a bit rapidly): AH THAT’S QUITE ENOUGH! You were only supposed to clean the vents, antenna are OFF. LIMITS. G-great cleaning you uh, did ease my concerns. Now we should leave! Can’t expect to spend all day in the stall anyways. Glad this conundrum could be cleared up *anxious laugh*

……..

That is the end of the cringe :33

[spicyvampire]

Hate /heɪt/ verb -> Enduring anger focused on a particular person or group of persons. Over time hatred may generate the personality trait of hostility. Surprise /sɚˈpraɪz/ noun -> The briefest emotion, surprise is triggered by the sudden occurrence of an unexpected event. It is often a way station that leads, after more appraisal, to any of the other emotions. Fondness  /ˈfɑnd·nəs/ noun -> A liking. Guilt /ɡɪlt/ noun -> Regret about a past action [...], a feeling of worry or unhappiness that you have because you have done something wrong, such as causing harm to another person.

Atlas of emotions + Cambridge dictionary

4MINUTES (2024) EP. 6

[answeringeverything]

how would you go about supporting dying language (mandatory learning in school doesnt work)

I think the government of Wales has the right idea, by offering Welsh-speaking schools as an alternative to English, making sure all street signs prioritize Welsh-speakers, and contributing heavily to the use of Welsh in the arts.

I also think it would be wise to invest in animation and tv. Anime and cartoons are popular with younger generations and have a proven track record of encouraging people to learn new languages. Meanwhile, the ability to watch whatever series you’re already interested in with dubbing or subbing in a language you want to learn would allow people to learn passively while engaging in their daily routines.

Lastly, sponsored events (perhaps at the local library or at street fairs) to encourage multilingual communication could be quite useful. If possible, tie your language of choice in with learning sign language!

It might not even be dumb to offer a small yearly sum to whoever can pass a language test, depending on the size of the target population. You could get a fun sticker too—make it a source of pride in your community!

[hecatesbroom]

Ever wondered which of the golden girls you really are? Well, I got bored and made a uquiz, so take it now to find out (and let me know who you got)!

[applestorms]

on another note. it genuinely kinda surprises me how many people interpret ivan to be the type of person to Repress and Deny his feelings when, from all the evidence we actually have, he actually seems to be quite open about it?

he does do the dumb stare and watch from afar thing that till does with mizi, yeah, but even there i don’t know if i would necessarily interpret that as ivan like. pushing his feelings away. compare the difference between how till and ivan are framed in these two shots:

in till's, we are pushed way farther back, seeing his full face and a good deal of his body as he slouches back. the colors are bright, fitting in with most of the happier mizisua angst memories, and you can read till's expression pretty clearly, even with his face beaten up. it's cute and mostly innocent, the kind of thing that makes you want to gently push him out from behind the wall to watch him stutter and get all embarrassed but reach out and play with his friends.

in ivan's... jesus. i mean, he looks like a freak (affectionate). you can't read his expression, despite the fact that we are zoomed in much more closely, only really seeing his eye as the placement of his hand covers his mouth. there is very little body language to convey the same type of sweet, childhood Yearning that till has in his staring shot. instead, for ivan, it all comes down to the Eye, how intently he stares as he watches till and mizi. it almost doesn't even feel like he wants to join in at that moment, or not yet, like watching alone is enough to feed the starvation.

don't get me wrong, there's still plenty of Yearning and Angst in that boy-- round 3 alone is enough to demonstrate that. but what i think people sometimes forget to account for is the fact that ivan acts like that specifically because he has already been rejected.

up until [whenever this moment happens in the timeline] ivan seemingly has absolutely no qualms about getting all up close and personal with till. we see this in plenty of the round 6 flashbacks:

he is plenty comfortable getting all up in till's personal space, whether it be to beat him up or just exist near him.

i also like how in this shot (below) we can see him specifically stand up and move seats, just so that he can bother till during lunch and have his little vampire weirdo moment (aww).

ivan's behavior only really shifts after till has already rejected him-- which, i'd also like to note, seems to genuinely catch ivan off guard. perhaps he genuinely didn't even consider the possibility that till would ever push him away?? i guess it's hard to know the specifics of what he was feeling or thinking in that exact moment, but at the very least this speaks to the ease with which they existed around each other previously.

thus: ivan doesn't begin with the belief that till could never love him. he only starts to doubt whether or not his feelings are requited after he has already been rejected, after he pushed too hard and too quick.

after the failed meteor shower date, his affections become a lot more subtle-- sneaking around to take care of till when he needs it, but only when his eyes are closed. the love and obsession and watchfulness is all still there, but he takes more care to hide it better now. until... well, y'know.

he lets the selfishness win. :]