#here to provide <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[buttonheart]

Fashionistas

[tragicvampireromanceisland]

MANNN so. sooo. all this talk about pilot fear got me thinking about pilot Joyyyy...we should talk about her too because good Lord, she is…such a piece of work. i NEED to throw rocks at her <3 it's really fascinating how early concepts of joy just, like...straight up made her mean? spoiled? abrasive? not a control freak, not a toxic optimist, not a well-intentioned extremist looking out for riley...just...a whiny brat! she instantly complains about anything she doesn't get immediate gratification from, and doesn't want riley to grow up because it means she can't have fun anymore. which makes sense i suppose, given a lot of the earlier drafts for inside out were about joy's immaturity rather than her being controlling...

if you factor pilot fear into all of this, too, i feel like he'd have muuuch more reason to actually, you know. turn Evil and try to kill joy. pilot joy always gave off villain protagonist vibes to me…she's awful, but mostly unaware how much the others resent her—fear in particular. she's too full of herself to really grasp that.

much of the vague draft i've written in my head about this revolves around fear's betrayal ultimately shattering joy's worldview…i do still think the joy-sadness angle in the final movie was probably the best choice to go with (especially since there weren't any complications of dealing with the aftermath of AHEM. ATTEMPTED MURDER), but daaamnn if i don't think the pilot stuff is Neat!!

alsooo if you're unfamiliar with pilot joy i highly recommend checking out this storyboard, which illustrates her personality pretty well. i actually stole a few lines directly from this storyboard, which is…certainly saying something about this version of joy, lmao. there's definitely more stuff out there, but this is probably the best example. anyways. please throw rocks at her with me <3

[jackabbot]

9-1-1: LONE STAR • S2E03 ↳ “Hold the Line”

[gargoylelads]

Three (3) lokeys for your amusement

[folkbreeze]

he loves being a dad now (he keeps getting whims of having another child even)

[cementcornfield]

Is it fair to say that Tee is a need?

Tee is a need, yes.

If the front office isn't able to make that work, would you be disappointed in that?

I'd be very disappointed in that, yeah.

[drawingdreamboats]

sweetie pie drinking his silly juice ➕ more jotawos under the cut

[darkcircles4lyfe]

Translating Katsuki’s confession with “for the rest of our lives” instead of “forever” was a really based decision, like… the way that conveys so much better to an English audience the gravity of what he is saying. Forever is abstract and general, like you thoughtlessly took someone for granted. For the rest of our lives is like saying I have daydreamed detailed fantasies about us being together at every stage.

This brings us closer to how the Japanese side of the fandom is reacting to it, legitimately interpreting it like a proposal and throwing “delusional” to the wind.

The thing that brings me so much joy and hope is how this chapter speaks of a new beginning for them rather than a resolution. For months and months I was imagining and reimagining ways for them to have their Big Moment that changes their relationship during the war. Now I feel relieved that they get to take their time to figure it out instead.

I think we all expected a lot from the war, on multiple fronts. We expected epiphany to come from the final showdown. But you know, now that I think about it, I greatly appreciate the sentiment that war is not capable of producing truth, justice or peace. You’ve heard that you can’t see the forest for the trees. How about the forest for the fire?

A story doesn’t end when everything is burned to ashes, and nothing will grow until the rain comes.

[hmsdoodlin]

you're the platonic bloodmoon person

im down pounding my head against the kitchen floor BEGGING you to feed us more platonic bloodmoon

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEA-

:)

[gh0st-0f-luke]

an epistolary journey through nie huaisang’s highly questionable therapy notes as he counsels firefighters!wangxian, who are not a couple but definitely probably need counseling (read her on ao3!)

[thejanisimiike]

rejanis thru text (pt 2/?)

(more parts - pt 1 / pt 3)

[eforest]

hi if anyone could spare anything rn i would rly appreciate it sm as we're currently in the midst of waiting on 3 months of processing time of a new disability income application due to a long awaited move out of legal homelessness (as the type we're on is region locked in our country) and in the meantime are without income entirely .. which will still last 2 more months from now... :' )

[unclewaynemunson]

Thanks to a conversation I had with @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe and @stevesbipanic about this post by @piratefishmama about Scott Clarke helping middle schoolers with sexuality crises I wrote a lil something :)

Scott Clarke has been worrying about Eddie Munson ever since the boy first set foot into his classroom. He was tiny for his age and thin on the verge of being scrawny, with big, scared eyes in a pale face. With his long, dark curls he was the kind of boy who would unavoidably be called names for being too much like a girl, and Scott wasn't surprised that it only took one week before the boy came in with his hair all buzzed off, pulling even more attention to his expressive eyes instead.

Scott was known for worrying about the nerdy kids, and even though it wouldn't be obvious to everyone right away, he immediately noticed that Eddie was one of those. He wasn't the kind of nerdy kid who would sit in the front of the classroom, hanging onto Scott's every word while avidly scribbling down the secrets of the universe that Scott liked to share. No, Eddie was the other kind of nerdy kid: the kind who would often be called dreamy, or imaginative, or quiet, or lazy. The kind who would retreat to the back of the class and get low scores on their tests because they were spending their time sneakily reading comic books underneath the table or staring out of the window with their mind completely elsewhere for hours on end.

Middle school wasn't an easy place for kids like Eddie, as Scott knew all too well. The only thing he could do, as a teacher, was try to make it a little bit more bearable for him. He was glad when the boy took him up on his offer to spend his lunch breaks in the science classroom instead of the cafeteria or the playground. Soon, it became a habit that Eddie would be on the other side of Scott's desk reading his way through some big book while Scott was grading papers or preparing his next lesson.

Scott knew that with patience and kindness, all kids like Eddie would eventually come out of their shell and start trusting him. So he asked about the books Eddie brought first, proceeded to topics like music and games he liked to play later, and eventually could ask him about his home life.

Whenever he'd talk about his books or his music, Eddie's eyes lit up and his smile widened. Scott soon found out that, when Eddie was at ease, he could talk a mile a minute and bounce around the classroom, caught up in his stories with all kinds of excited hand gestures. At those moments, he was nothing like the quiet boy with the haunted look in his eyes who Scott met two months ago.

But Eddie never disclosed much about his personal life. He didn't mention his mother even once and he didn't tell Scott much more than that he was living with his uncle in Forest Hills because his dad was “unavailable” to take care of him.

Scott doubted whether Eddie was much better off living with his uncle than with his father. Judging from the meager lunches he brought with him, the shabby and ill-fitting clothes he wore, and the fact that the man never once came to drop Eddie off or pick him up at school, Scott was skeptical, to say the least.

He started worrying even more when one day, Eddie lingered in the classroom after the last lesson of the day, saying he wanted to ask him a “science question” with a certain dread in his eyes that Scott had never seen there before.

“There's nothing I love more than a good science question,” Scott quickly reassured him. “Tell me, what is it?”

“The other kids,” said Eddie, “Brendon and Mark and, you know... They call me names.” His voice was soft and his eyes were aimed towards the ground as he spoke. “Queer. And fag. And...” He shrugged. “Y'know.” He raised his head up again, big scared eyes meeting Scott's.

“I – I think they're right,” he said, almost in a whisper. “How can you stop being gay?”

And oh, this was a conversation Scott had experience with. He had been a teacher at Hawkins Middle School for almost two decades and there had always been kids he worried about, who would open up to him about this exact topic.

So he sat Eddie down at his desk and patiently talked him through everything the boy needed to know; God knows his trailer park uncle most certainly wouldn't. He told him all about science and nature and feelings and, most importantly, being perfect the way you are, no matter who you love.

More than two hours later, Eddie finally left the classroom with relief in his eyes instead of dread. But Scott kept worrying: Eddie's uncle hadn't so much as called the school to inform where Eddie was. Who was looking out for him after the last school bell rang and the kid rode his bike out of Scott's sight?

Not long after that conversation, Scott finally got to meet Mr. Munson for the first time. He was one of Scott's last appointments of the yearly parent-teacher evening, and Scott half expected him not to show up. But he was right on time, even though he looked almost comically out of place when he walked into the science classroom.

He was exactly what Scott would've imagined of a man living in Forest Hills: washed-up jeans and a worn-down flannel, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, and a gruff frown hidden underneath a faded gray trucker's hat. He walked up to where Scott was seated behind his desk in a few big strides, and Scott couldn't help but think that there was something almost intimidating in merely the way he carried himself. Not exactly the kind of man who radiated safety for a boy like Eddie.

They shook hands and Scott felt rough callouses press against his own chalk-stained fingers.

While Scott talked Mr. Munson through Eddie's grade list – a list that at this point was barely enough to get him into the next grade – Mr. Munson didn't say anything. Only when Scott asked him if he had any questions, he opened his mouth.

“How're the other kids treatin' him?” the man asked him in a thick southern accent.

“It's not easy for him,” Scott answered in all honesty. He wondered how much Eddie told his uncle about what his days at school usually looked like.

Mr. Munson bowed his head. “I know,” he mumbled.

“Eddie is a sensitive kid, he –”

“I know what kinda kid he is,” Mr. Munson interrupted him immediately. It sounded sharp and Scott wondered if he should be worried about Mr. Munson having a temper.

“Of course,” he cautiously retreated. “I just assumed, since I've never seen you at the school before, sir, that you might not be aware of what exactly he has to deal with in here.”

“Maybe you should do less assuming, then,” Mr. Munson answered bluntly. “You think I should be at the school more? Drop Eddie here in the mornin', come pick him up in the afternoon, all that?”

Scott wondered if Mr. Munson was mocking him.

“Well, I think it might be good for Eddie if –”

“You know why I ain't never at the school? 'Cause I'm tryin' my damned best to keep that boy's stomach filled. When should I be at the school, exactly, between my day shift at the quarry and my night shift at the plant?”

“I – I'm sorry,” Scott backpedaled. Suddenly, the frown lines in the tired face of the man in front of him had gotten a different meaning. “I didn't know. You're right, I shouldn't have made assumptions.”

“Look, I dunno how much he shared with you, Mr. Clarke, but I know he looks up to you. So I think you should know that he's the kinda kid who got in trouble at home for bein' “too sensitive.”” He shot Scott a meaningful glance. “Boy was cryin' to me on the phone, 'cause of what his daddy did to him, so I picked him up and drove him here and I made it my mission, as his uncle, to protect him, to shield him, and to take care of him as best as I possibly can.”

Scott had always prided himself on being a good judge of character. He wondered if he had ever been more wrong about somebody before in his life.

“I know he thinks highly of you, Sir,” Mr. Munson continued. “And I'm very grateful that you're keepin' an eye on him when I can't. But at some point, he may trust you with some very personal information about himself, and you better have his back when he does.”

He knows, Scott realized with a shock. He tried to give Mr. Munson a reassuring smile, but his heart was beating in his throat with what he was about to tell him.

“I was a sensitive kid, myself, Sir. I promise you Eddie is in good hands with me.”

Scott wondered whether Mr. Munson caught the message in those words while a long silence stretched out. Their gazes were locked: Mr. Munson's eyes were bright blue, completely different from Eddie's but just as expressive. His gaze softened while the seconds passed and underneath his graying beard, his mouth twitched.

“I was a sensitive kid, too,” he eventually said.

And Scott's jaw nearly dropped to the floor. This man, with his big calloused hands and his trucker's hat and his undeniably manly demeanor?

His feelings of astonishment must have been visible on his face, because Mr. Munson chortled softly.

“Didn't see that one coming, did ya?”

Scott laughed, too, making the last bit of residual tension between them disappear. “I'm sorry, Mr. Munson. I had no idea.”

“'S okay,” Mr. Munson said. “'s good to know that Eddie has someone lookin' out for him here. Um –” He scraped his throat. “I um...” He abruptly averted his gaze back to his lap again, where his fingers were nervously fumbling with the cap he was holding between his hands.

“I always make Eddie dinner,” he finally said. “'S one of the few things I can do for him, y'know. It'd probably be better for me if I took a quick nap 'tween my jobs, but it's the only time of the day we got together. I'm not much of a cook, but I try to get him to eat somethin' healthy and warm, and we talk about stuff, whatever it is he wants to talk about. So um... If you ever wanna join us – that is, if you don't mind comin' to the trailer park... We don't have much, but I'm sure we can fit another chair 'round the table. I think it could be good for Eddie.”

Scott could barely believe what was happening. To think that only a few minutes ago, he had been worried about this man having a temper or being neglectful towards his nephew...

Wayne Munson was shy and soft-spoken and he loved Eddie with a passion that sparked a fierce protectiveness. And after having Scott judge him based on the way he looked and a bunch of false assumptions, he showed him nothing but genuine goodness.

He felt his lips bend into a smile more authentic than he'd been able to give in a while.

“I'd love to join you sometime,” he told Mr. Munson. “For Eddie – but I also wouldn't mind getting to know you better,” he added in a sudden spur or braveness.

And he could swear that something suspiciously like a smile matching his own was hiding beneath Mr. Munson's beard.

[tainebot01]

It's like 11pm. and I'm getting emotional thinking about Athena in Turnabout Academy again.

The first case she's ever taken on as defense, knowing full well Junie's future is at stake, and. she's dealing with this nightmare. Phoenix’s first case? A single afternoon and one Frank later, Larry's off the hook. Apollo's first case? A fake Russian lady and a slipup on Kristoph's behalf, managed in a day. And they were doing this in their mid 20s. But Athena has to not only deal with someone who knows the legal system like the back of his pasty marble hand, but grown ass men who tell her she's in over her head despite the fact she's a dual major. who's rightfully earned her badge at age 18. She's receiving nothing but sexism and ableism left and right despite all she's capable of, even the people who are supposed to be on her side are mocking her and treating her like an idiot for lacking experience. And let's not forget having to essentially provide group therapy and solve the problems of a bunch of high schoolers, at least one of whom was desperately in need of support, while still solving the themisforsaken case entirely within the bounds of the clown show this game calls a legal system. I.

I just love Athena, man.

[loz-chainsofcorruption]

You know what I don't see talked about enough

Intelligent monsters in the Legend of Zelda

I'm talking the moblin who was writing love letters back and forth with that girl in Wind Waker, aka a moblin with a canon name, Moe, that can fall in love and give gifts and read and write

Batreaux in Skyward Sword, a talking monster that just wants to be human

The moblin disguised as a woman in Minish Cap who asks Link to keep her identity a secret

There's the friendly, talking dodongo in the oracle games

A hinox who bribed for his life in Lorule

King Bulblin in Twilight Princess can talk too

These aren't even all the examples!!

There are so many instances in these games of intelligence beyond just using weapons, making food, forming rudimentary patrol routes or camps, etc.

At least some of these guys can talk, read, write, form connections, have hopes and dreams, and so on. At least some of them, if not all of them, have names. They're not all just mindless "me see, me attack" brutes full of nothing but bloodlust.

And I dunno, I just think people should be talking about that more

[purpurussy]

I love dragon city. will never play it but I love it so much