#but i can't really remember what

[this-is-another-name]

HUMAN YELLOW ZIRCON AAAA (University version)

[hinamie]

in spite of everything, I had fun <3

[inkskinned]

i'm still trying to piece together the truth of it. when you left, you said: feel free to spin this narrative however you want. i have no idea if you were being cruel or if you just genuinely don't remember what you've done to me.

it's hard because i'd done so much of the work for you. i had seen the parts that flaked off, the rust underneath. i started separating you into two people - the one i loved, and the one who hurt me. i had this fantasy version of you - my partner - and then i had this stranger, a third person who would show up randomly to shatter me. i am deliriously glad i'm no longer with "the stranger". i miss the gentle (unreal?) "other" you terribly.

at first, i was so strict about my boundaries. i remember telling you to get the fuck out of my house if you were going to talk to me like that. by the end: i would justify your behavior for you, accepting even your mistreatment as "my fault" in the grand scheme. i look back on the person i was before you - smart, independent, confident - and i feel a strange sense of detachment. i don't even recognize me.

even in one of our last conversations, you said: if you want a partner that always talks warmly to you, find someone else. there was a time that a comment like that would have made me leave. and instead, somehow, i just placidly accepted that kind of thing. you were literally telling me that i wasn't allowed to have a reaction to your cruelty - and i just took it, because you'd so fully turned things around on me.

when people are faced with irrationality, a rational brain tries to make sense of it. this is the trap. they're lovely in the morning, gentle and blue-eyed and sweet. like nothing even happened, they breeze around the house and kiss you on the mouth. but at night; who is that? they snap almost randomly; flying into an impotent rage about just-about-anything. it just doesn't make sense. so the problem must be me, and my brain, and how i think.

the traumatized brain just wants peace. so maybe i'm misremembering. maybe you were just having a bad day. maybe it's actually me.

you eventually would fully turn on me and start implying that i am the bad actor in our relationship. that's what happens, right? that's literally in the playbook. you went to therapy for all of a month, told her a half-truth, co-opted therapyspeak. you figured out how to reframe your actions as "seeking peace." any time i stood my ground, i was "gaslighting." when i asked you to be more gentle, you said i was "tone policing." you said, randomly, i had emotionally manipulated you - i still have no idea what that's even specifically referring to. maybe my consistent requests for calmness and empathy?

and while i literally know better, and i'm sitting here, trained by you, thinking: wait, fuck. was i actually the person you made me out to be?

and the thing that scares me is that i literally do not know if you ever actually saw what you were doing to me. when you'd tell me how you remember arguments, you'd always summarize them in a way where you come off as gentle and easy: "i was trying to set an important boundary." what had actually happened was 15 minutes of you shouting at me i know you did something shady, just admit it already. eventually you'd say my reaction to your shouting (when i finally reacted, which usually happened around hour three) was inevitably "disappointing" and "another way i'm silencing your feelings."

how many times did i ask you - beg you - to just take accountability? looking back, i don't think i ever heard you say: you're right. the way i talked to you was wrong of me.

i am trying to tie together the two people into a full version of you in my head. yes, you made my coffee and made me laugh and spent hours on the phone with me. and yes - you would scream at me until i had to run away and hide behind something.

i wish i did have a narrative i could pull out and shape to my whim. i wish i did have some semblance of reality. instead i just stand here, strange and vibrating, wondering: what the fuck just happened?

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

When in doubt, Soup it out.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[black-and-yellow]

[lyxchen]

I'M SORRY did they give Maxine ocd?? (not angry, more like just really surprised) like the light switch and then the "Wrong. Everyone I love will die" and having to flip the light switch again, like that's intrusive thought + compulsion. Was this intentional? Are the writers aware that this is an ocd thing???

[paperwattle]

little sketch of that one art base with jayvik + post-crashout jayce but i spent several hours dying in agony over jayces stupid facial structure and hair and i still can't get it right i'm going to fucking strangle him istg why does he fucking look like that

anyway lmao this is the goofiest drawing ever but i'm art block and Don't Fucking Care.

[red-moon-at-night]

After doing some research on the types of pets people had in ancient Greece, I'd like to imagine that Helen is the sort of person who has a whole menagerie of birds — and she loves each and every one of them very, very much.

It fits well with her being good at mimicry, you know. Talking and imitating and singing with her beloved birds 💜

Close up under the read more:

I had to include that one necklace from the minoan 'saffron goddess' fresco because it's my favourite thing Ever

[almondcroissantsandink]

something something if they had found each other earlier

[enigmaticexplorer]

I finished Andor Season 2 last night.

It's wild how the final shot of the last episode just made one of the major themes in my favorite Star Wars movie obsolete.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt this betrayed. 

After nine years, we’re now told that the "real" tragedy of Rogue One is that Cassian is a father but will never get to meet his child. That Cassian's sacrifice now has "real" meaning because he has someone who will remember him and keep his "legacy" alive.

And it's so fucked up.

Rogue One was always tragic because these rebels had no one—no one to remember them, no one to keep their legacies alive—except for each other. And yet they still chose to sacrifice themselves for a greater cause.

The real tragedy of Rogue One is that these rebels sacrificed themselves knowing they wouldn't get to live in the world they fought for.

The real tragedy is these rebels not even knowing if their efforts will help others—will save the galaxy.

The real tragedy is Jyn and Cassian finding each other, choosing one another in the end, but not having enough time to be together.

By making Cassian a father in Andor, the original tragedy of Rogue One is meaningless. 

And so is one of Rogue One's major themes: a theme that says that your life has meaning—your life has purpose—even when you sacrifice yourself. A theme that says you sacrifice yourself for a cause, not because you expect to be remembered, and not because you expect to reap the benefits, but because it's the right thing to do.

That's the point of the movie.

And at the end of Rogue One, in that final scene on Scarif's beach, Jyn and Cassian had chosen to be together. They had no one but each other. They knew that they would be forgotten, and that their sacrifices would never be written in history. And they had accepted that—and they had accepted each other.

Now, that scene is meaningless. Because Cassian has a child who will carry on his "legacy"—who will remember him.

For weeks, I’ve been looking forward to watching Rogue One upon completing Andor. But now...what’s the point? 

The story's been broken by its very own creator. 

[remcadll]

Wow crazy how it’s been two months since mha ended. what the hell was that btw

[inkedinserendipity]

rereading system collapse is so funny because murderbot's humans (and its asshole research transport) are like. illogically protective of it. some variation of this interaction happens like four times in fifty pages:

murderbot, standing around and stalling, having a mental breakdown: come on murderbot you gotta be better than this you can't just be having [redacted] do your JOB

ratthi/iris, who know this, distracting it: do those hatches look weird to you? those hatches look weird to me. murderbot, based on your thousands of hours of media consumption, do those hatches look weird to you?

and then to make it worse, feat. poor tarik:

tarik, on a high-stakes mission spearheaded by a secunit who is sending absolutely zero information back to the rest of the crew: ? status update?

iris/ratthi/art-drone, pulling out knives (/bombs): hey tarik? can you leave our murderbot alone? that's our specialest little secunit? it's got anxiety and it's doing its best so fuck off?

and then they start verbally stabbing him.

the amount of glee these scenes give me. i genuinely forgot how quickly they all rally around murderbot. and then there was that scene where murderbot went oh no, was tarik security, i don't want to take his job, and art-drone was like that was NOT his job he was NOT security and actually fuck that guy and YOU are security for my crew and if anything ever happened to you i would BOMB A PLANET

[lunarharp]

warming back up with 89 feelings

[flowersforthemachines]

[feralforbeanix]

Prosecutors' honest reactions.

[demaparbat-hp]

In your Spitfire AU, since Zuko is looking after Lu Ten II, what happened to Ursa?

Zuko is slightly older in the Spitfire AU. He was banished at fifteen, his head a little clearer and denial a little weaker than in canon. After his first look through the Air Temples, Zuko decides that if he can't find a myth, he might as well search for the next best thing.

Finding Ursa isn't easy, but in time he makes it to a secluded house in a near-forgotten part of the world. His mom is there, older and stronger and alive.

But she isn't alone.

And Zuko, as it turns out, didn't keep the best company during his search.

When Ursa is discovered and her secrets are laid bare for assassins (for Ozai) to find, she begs Zuko to take his little brother and run. She'll do anything it takes to protect her children, even if that means leaving them behind to keep a target off their back. Ursa diverts attention from them and allows Lu Ten's ancestry to be kept a secret. She orders Zuko not to follow her again, and disappears.

Zuko is left with a little three-year-old brother to raise and a mother he cannot hold onto.