#and i understand the sentiment

[downtroddendeity]

Footage of me every time Brian Wansink's 217 Fraudy Fraudy Papers starts getting notes again:

[r-r-raf]

"QPRs are romance lite" "QPRs are friendship premium"

Insane concept but what if. Hear me out. QPRs are an entirely different relationship based on the wants and needs of the individuals involved

[scramratz]

Least favorite form of political action is those 1 day boycotts. "Everybody don't buy anything for 1 day!" Like cool wtf is that gonna do? You do know what a boycott is, right? You do it until a change is made. Black folks in Montgomery didn't ride the bus for over a year until segregated seating was lifted. For most of them, that was the only transportation they could afford. It was difficult! That's the point! How do you expect things to change permanently if you don't permanently change! Please!

[artsymeeshee]

Another “what other scenarios can I think of to make me already emotional about these two” idea

[the-chibi-sempai]

I think Israel should win so the whole competition would finally die

pretty sure it's going to take something bigger for that to happen

[bookalicent]

yeah so this was insane

[coalballbaby]

sixshot nation are you hearing me

[mushiemadarame]

⇢ Boom Raweewit Jiraphongkanon as Akin Tahra (Top Form, 2025, EP04)

[pigswithwings]

in another life, you and i are birds of different species. we happen to meet in a park where our winter migratory groups have stopped to rest; you are swimming in the pond and i am walking along the bank looking for things to eat. we look at each other and you say something in a language i do not understand. your feathers are in a pattern i do not recognise, and i, too, say something that you do not understand. still, we hold each other's gaze all the same.

in another life, we are strangers at a bus stop. my plastic grocery bag breaks and my things go everywhere; i kneel down to grab them frantically and you are there too, on your knees on the asphalt. picking up the apples i have dropped as if we will share them for dinner.

in another life, we are trees separated by the riverbank. the river has been running dry lately, even for the summer, so you ask me if there might be danger of a fire. i shake my branches in mimicry of laughter and ask you, danger? us, in danger because of a fire? no, no - of course not. if there must be a fire, we will be reborn. and i will love you just the same.

in another life, i miss you terribly during a late night. i call you, and you do not answer. you must be very busy, i think. i roll over in bed and watch the shadows on the ceiling bend and twist with every passing car. i sleep, and i am dreaming of you even if i do not remember it the next day.

in another life, you are a beetle, and so am i. we are burrowed together beneath a tree root during a rainstorm. i do not know you. i am not as small as you. your carapace nudges mine as we both try to burrow further into the dirt. it is cold. we are warm.

in another life, we are spotted hyenas in the same pack. you have been hunting, and now your ear is bleeding. you are limping, so i follow you. i lick the blood from your face, lay down next to you and breathe in the silence. we watch the evening sun glow.

in another life, we live across the hall from each other: you are room 317 and i am room 316. we know each other, barely - i have held open the door for you a few times and you've done the same for me. we have never looked at each other's faces close enough to recognise each other. but still, i notice it when you move out, when the sound of music on your stereo no longer floats through my window.

in another life, we are transmission towers, connected by a few metal strings.

in another life, we are lilypads on a pond. we are stars in the sky. now we are skeletons in the same grave. we are corpses on a battlefield. bricks in a wall. stickers on someone's notebook.

what am i to you? and how do i describe who you are to me? i have this feeling that is greater than love, perhaps it is beyond the word "love". all i know is: with the time i have, i am glad to know you.

[lizluzz]

various british comedians: Alex Horne is like a cartoon. we know he has 3 kids but we can't imagine him ever having sex.

Alex, pointing at the filthiest fic he could find on ao3 on national television: skill issue

[the-way-astray]

"what do you mean unraveled comes out in just two weeks, i'm not done with my reread/i need to do a reread still/i barely remember anything" you all are cowards. you will not do a reread. you will read unraveled with your current knowledge of the series as god intended

[megabuild]

okay i hate the mc movie teaser as much as the next guy but some of you need to cool it with the "they're ruining high art" comments just because the end poem is the only poetry youve ever read that wasnt school mandated ... minecraft is a beautiful game with a lot that could have been done and from everything weve seen so far wb are ignoring that entirely but also idk i think its a bit naive to go "why didnt they make this about the pervasive loneliness that steve must feel in a ruined world..." like idk man. i dont know if little timmy with the creeper lunchbox is gonna sit through that for two hours

[bougiebutchbinch]

not to be a Finale Hater on main but I still find it sooooo funny that Izzy tried to reassure Ed with his dying breaths that the crew were his family, which was not backed up in the SLIGHTEST by canon - and which was, in fact, followed VERY SWIFTLY by the crew getting the fuck OUT of there so they never had to see Ed or Stede again 💙 which considering the incredibly shitty way they were treated was well within their rights💙

I am PRO mutiny and unionisation, tbh. The crew of The Revenge deserved soooo much better. Long live Captain Frenchie!!!

and Izzy (who now shares the first mate title with Jim and Olu, and is 900% less stressed), who faked his death and was smuggled away to sea with his fucking family to live happily ever after :3

Just -

Izzy: they're your family, Ed 🥺 The crew: like hell we are. Bye!!!!

[transyashiro]

How do you end up making such respectful and tasteful images of trans girls. Every trans girl I show them to loves them

i'm just drawing them like i'd draw anyone else, but hey, thank you, i'm glad the girls like my stuff

[geddyqueer]

listen. you all know me. i'm a guy who is very pro-weird and toxic dynamics. that's great to explore in fiction! love it! but i'm going to be honest. the fact that every day i have to scroll past fics in the bucktommy tag where the writer has cast tommy, a canonically gay man, as this abusive violent piece of shit only to have eddie swoop in and rescue buck, while in reality ryan guzman is out here consciously playing eddie as getting violent against buck, is really fucking irritating. and i'm never going to tell people to stop writing whatever they want, but i wish i didn't have to fucking see it lmao

[hephaestuscrew]

Prior to the revelation around the aliens receiving his logs, Eiffel's logical expectation is that the only people who'll listen to his logs are people at Goddard Command. And yet the way he speaks in those logs is often not really addressed at Goddard staff. For example, in Ep8 The Empty Man Cometh, he says:

Oh, hell, speaking of logs... I guess you caught all of that, so you might be able to pick up the effect your twisted experiment had on us. Hint: IT WAS AWFUL. Sorry if things got a bit crazy for a while there, dear listeners, but... well, you see the kind of things we have to deal with.

The first part of that quote is obviously directed at Goddard staff, at the people who create many of the situations Eiffel and the rest of the Hephaestus crew have to deal with (such as the empty man panic). But the second part - the part addressed to Eiffel's "dear listeners" - feels like a switch, like it's directed at a sympathetic audience who are witnessing Eiffel's plight without having any role in it. In other words, it feels like it's directed at us. Before the aliens come into the picture, we are the "dear listeners".

There's no logical reason for Eiffel to make this kind of switch between the listener he blames (i.e. Goddard Command) and his more sympathetic "dear listener". He's mentally constructing a listener to his logs who is on his side, when he has no in-universe reason to believe that there is one. It's an interesting kind of coping mechanism - potentially linked to the unconscious, perhaps misdirected, desire for connection that led him to transmit his logs into deep space.

There are other signs that the "dear listener" Eiffel directs his logs towards has very little to do with Goddard, such as the way he explains things that Goddard staff would obviously know (which is obviously useful from a storytelling perspective, but also feels in-character and in line with his other behaviour), as well as telling the listener things that could land him in trouble with Goddard.

Eiffel is the kind of genre-savvy character who is regularly on the brink of fully breaking the fourth wall. He doesn't know he's in an audio drama, but he's so prone to narrating his life that he might as well know. He's always constructing the narrative of his life in his head, so perhaps he finds that it helps to imagine someone on Earth who is listening sympathetically to the story he's telling himself. In his world, at the beginning of the show, he doesn't have that listener, or doesn't believe he has. But his words reach across from the universe of his story into ours. And his voice finds the kind of dear listener he was imagining without hoping for - someone who has no role in anything that happens on the Hephaestus but who is willing to listen to his story. In pressing play on your podcast app, you become the listener he was longing for.