#(well)

[rozenkingdom]

I was literally thinking this about games earlier today. I was trying to decide what game I wanted to play on my computer (because I have... quite the backlog we'll say 👀) and I remember specifically thinking "These games sound good, I remember why I chose them originally."

But none of them felt good *enough*. Like, they weren't meeting some internal standard I'd set without knowing. I realized I didn't know what the answer was and when I thought about it, that info about people who are burnt out or tired internally (and probably externally, lets be real) gravitate toward stories, shows, games, etc. they got into as kids or young adults... because they know the invested energy/attention cost has already been paid. They don't want to "waste" energy/attention on a gamble, basically, when they just want to relax.

That's... not good, guys. That we're like this. (Maybe you're not, in which case, good for you, truly!)

I think it promotes a sense of... a sort of... learned helplessness almost? Not quite, because the exhaustion is Very Much There and I'd never claim otherwise. Just... I think we can become so used to being tired that even when we HAVE the energy or attention to try getting invested in a new show, game, story, etc., we just... don't. Because we're so used to not being able to.

I realized and forced myself to install a game I'd grabbed a while back (Deliver Us Mars, you sonovabitch with your goddamn climbing sections) and spent a few hours playing it and really enjoyed myself (I'm at the part where Kathy has that nightmare with the house destroyed, for anyone interested, and also please no spoilers).

So, just, yeah, I don't know, try to remember you still have interests and you can still become interested in other things. You're tired and (probably) hurt and you can still like new things.

[made-my-peace-with-all-the-bad]

The Outsiders & Ages

[quarterlifekitty]

All things considered, the wedding is… cute.

Clearly the groom didn’t have much input beyond a few things that don’t quite fit right - orange flowers among the frilly whites and pinks, garish, tacky toppers resting on a beautifully classical cake, a lower cut dress than you know your friend ever would usually wear.

It’s sickening.

You’ve watched her, teeth gritted in a supportive smile, as she’s dated this crusty old military man for all of seven months. Seven months, and suddenly you’re at a courthouse wedding wearing an expression made for a funeral. The jokes about infantry boys scooping up girls to turn them into housewives on date two stopped being funny when you could tell she was serious.

But you know how these things go. Tell her to stop and all you’ll do is deprive her of another friend - warn her that she’s being stupid and all she’ll do is bat you away from her trapped, bleeding body, swearing up and down that “He’s nice, “We’re happy,” “You know I’ve always wanted kids!”

Still, it puts a sinking feeling in your stomach watching her dance with him. You’re not even sure he’s aware of what he’s doing - using your poor naive friend for wish fulfillment. Making himself feel young, making himself feel important. Wise. Worth a pretty girl like your friend. You swirl your third cocktail of the night as they sway to some tacky old song you know the groom requested, feeling a little loose-lipped and bitter.

You don’t notice that your other friend has left the bar until the words have already slipped past your filter.

“God, I fucking hate him.”

It’s muttered half to yourself — you go to take another swig of your drink only to stall with your lips pressed to the glass, a voice that is distinctly *not* a 20-something you went to college with cutting through the quiet ambience of the room.

“I assume you’re here for the bride, then?”

British, first of all. Old. A little gruff. Very clearly here for the cradle robber. You finish that swig of your drink and turn half-lidded, darkened eyes onto him.

It annoys you immediately that he’s kind of handsome. The mustache is an ugly and regrettable choice but he’s one of the few men in this building who actually went to the effort of having his suit tailored, and the travesty that is his facial hair is at least well kept.

It annoys you further that he looks amused with you.

You don’t hide that you’re staring, nor do you hide the lingering malice in your gaze. You wait, until it looks like he’s going to say something else, before you open your mouth again and let the rum do the talking.

“If you’re here to defend his honor I don’t want to hear it.”

He smiles at you, (amused, annoying,) the corners of his eyes crinkling a bit as he shakes his head and hums “Who says he’s worth defending?”

Much to your chagrin, that pulls a smile out of you. You huff a soft laugh, and draw your eyes back to the happy couple. The comfortable buzz settling through you makes you perhaps a little more blunt than you’d usually be, but it’s not really on your mind to be regretful about it at the moment.

“You must think you’re sooo clever taking the sympathetic approach. You’re military too, right? Buddy buddy with the ashy creep fondling my girl? And this is, what, just a hunting grounds for you boys?”

You laugh again, deep and ironic as you stare a little vacantly across the floor. It sounds particularly hilarious, to you, as you coo “I’m not an easy target, sweetheart. Not in the market to pump out babies for a guy twice my age and half my dick size.”

When silence stretches on from his half of the bar, you assume you’ve successfully scared him away. A satisfied grin tugs up the corners of your lips, and you move to take another sip of your drink.

A fuzzy, far-too-big hand wraps around yours and gently pries the glass away before it can reach your lips, that warm, amused voice far closer to your ear when it purrs “I think you’ve had enough of that tonight, sweetheart. Shouldn’t be advertising ‘dick size’ with no intent to follow through, should you?”

The warmth in his tone, in the calloused hands that are lingering a little too long over yours, they seep down into you and pool somewhere they don’t belong. The jokes about infantry boys scooping up girls to turn them into housewives on date two have, again, stopped being funny.

(apologies again for the Length of this, just an idea I couldn’t get off my mind that I figured you might get a mild kick out of)

- 🪼

I DO GET A KICK OUT OF THIS

Also…. Anons on this website be inventing emojis. I’ve never seen that emoji before in my life lmao

The terrible terrible trope of John price latching onto women who think they’re too smart for him, and yet they fall into the apron and kitten heels all the same

[hero-of-the-wolf]

WAIT I GOT 100% ON MY FINAL???????

[pussy-whippedcream]

Fumbletron watching as the two bad bitches he lost (Optimus and Starscream) start going at it crrrrazy style

[belbubii]

all the girls are girling.

[gaysie]

formative raven cycle obsession has impacted me in the following ways:

if i had a daughter i'd surely name her henrietta

[figbythistle]

He could not see it, exactly; it was like the darkness that his eyes put over the sun when he tried to look at it directly. His mind would not let him see.

There were impressions instead, a bewildering cacophony of sensation and noise as his mind tried to translate what it could not understand: a smell of hot metal, burning tar; a tooth-jarring hum pitched high on the very edge of hearing; rippling heat beating against his skin. There was the feeling of vertigo that weakened one's knees at the edge of a depthless chasm; there was darkness, if darkness was radiant and blinding and merciless as the sun at noon.

What Lets the Light Pass Through by @rosemary-andtime

[em-prentiss]

Cmtwt once again proving that they’ve never witnessed a healthy platonic friendship

[ao3commentoftheday]

[cjbennet]

Wait, I need to save this for my descendants

(don't worry, no one actually reads my blog)

But hey, imaginary friends, look! My first ever real-real Tumblr drama! Yes, it tiny, but it's mine! So, be quiet in your jealousy.

I haven't been treated like this since 2017. Then, you know, actual life began. Cancer, alcoholism, deaths. You know, the usual. But amidst all that I did miss those times. Funnily, and sadly, they made feel... They made me feel.

Of course, when I look back, it seems dumb, so fucking dumb. And my responses were dumb. Why? Because I actually RESPONDED. Waisted my precious time on little mediocre personalities instead of building myself up. Фу, крынжовник.

But little did I know that on my 33rd year of life I will encounter someone who would take time not only to response and also to attach my comment to the original post! Just because they didn't like it. In some way it's touching. Dumb, but touching. But alas, I'm allergic to toxic people. It makes my face go 🤡 (But honestly? I've spent to much money on therapy to allow anyone treating me badly. Especially if it's just a bitter person)

I guess the moral of the story is be kinder. Or I'll reblog you 😱🤪😈

I was reading a wordpress article on vampires and one of the arguments being made was that Lucy gets punished by The Narrative for, among other things, "being a gossiping woman". My guy. Mina is the "gossiping woman". Mina. Her literal first entry is her being a gossip and digging for more rather shamelessly. It's part of her shrewdness, essential to her future actions. Why is Lucy catching strays???

[televisionforwhales]

Wild to think how invested I once was in captain america. They really put something in the winter soldier (2014). you had to be there

[anyknotrants]

-after Damian turned 16, at the family dinner-

Bruce: so... Damian, do you remember the Oreov girl you met at the gala last week?

Damian: *looks up* yes

Bruce: what do you think of her...?

Dick: *tries not to laugh*

Tim: *fails not to laugh*

Steph: *doesn't even try not to laugh*

Damian: she was... acceptable, if a bit annoying, why do you ask?

Tim: He's trying to set you up!

Batkids -Damian: *laughs*

Damian: *stares blankly*

Bruce: of course, you don't hav-

Damian: father, are you unaware that I'm in a committed relationship?

Duke, Tim and Dick: *choke on their food*

Steph: *chokes on her drink*

Cass: *smiles*

Batkids: WHAT?!

Bruce: ... I-....

Jason: *laughs so hard he almost falls from his chair* oh Jesus Christ! The world's best detectives at their finest!

Dick: you knew? And you didn't tell me?!

Jason: where the fuck do you think he went almost every fucking friday?

Bruce: *turns to Damian* I- I though you were having sleepover with Jon

Damian: I was.

Dick: but you just-

Batfam: *stops all their movememnt as they realize*

Jason: *actually falls from his chair laughing*

Bruce: JONATHAN SAMUEL KENT!

-over at the Kent farm, also having family dinner-

Jon, who heard Bruce shout his name: I feel like I'm going to get murdered by a bat in my sleep

Clark, who was also listening in: right after you explain why I had to find out you're dating Damian throught their family dinner

Jon: hehe... fuck

[dragonroilz]

[whetstonefires]

oh and here i'd been reading it this whole time in the assumption that you'd cut the title off at 'over' so that it was saying both the first part of the saying 'throw your heart over the fence, your horse will follow' and a more general command to 'throw your heart over,' as in give up on it. as in it's forfeit.

on account of that latter seeming to interlock so nicely with. themes.

I have a confession. I have been reading “Throw Your Heart Over” completely incorrectly. Or maybe this was your intention? I have not been reading these words in this order as “throw your heart over the fence, and your horse will follow” but as “throw your heart over [something undefined], the fence and your horse [together, acting as a subject of this independent clause] will follow.” Am I illiterate tumblr user elodieunderglass

(jockey OC Killie's book is going to be called Throw Your Heart Over, in reference to the advice given for jumping over scary fences on a horse: "throw your heart over the fence and your horse will follow.") Oh that's so interesting! thank you for sharing it with me! It's meant to be this one:

Step 1: remove your heart Step 2: throw it over the obstacle Step 3: jump over the obstacle with your horse Step 4: regain heart The saying "throw your heart over, your horse will follow" is about a couple of different things. One is that a trained horse (an anxious animal) places a lot of confidence and faith in their rider, willingly surrendering control of their body, mind and instincts, because they agree that you're a better manager of those things. Horses are incredibly sensitive, and horsegirl powers involve having exquisitely fine-tuned nonverbal communication. To reassure the horse, it's important that you be confident. by throwing your (own) heart over, you have already committed your own self; it's already done; you've surrendered and are peaceful; you haven't even jumped it but you're already over; now you just have to pop over and reclaim your heart. Ideally you will naturally shift in posture and intention after you've thrown your heart, and your mind will go clear and easily readable by the horse. Ideally your eyes will naturally look at the imaginary point where your heart went. Your horse will pick up on this, sensing that you know what you're doing, and will therefore - ideally - naturally follow your heart. It's also about not worrying about the thing in front of you, but focusing on the outcome. It's also about how - much like driving a car or steering a boat - you don't stare at what's happening immediately in front of you. A novice cramps themselves in, staring frantically at what's under their nose; an experienced pilot looks at a point farther away, which is the time and space that has the information you need to process. You don't look at the car's hood or the boat's bow, or the fence in front of you. Based on your speed, there's a space in the middle distance that you need to actually watch and react to. Everything under your tires/hooves/prow has already happened. It's someone else's (boat, car, horse) job to process that part.

Knowing this, “throw your heart over [something undefined], the fence and your horse [together, acting as a subject of this independent clause] will follow" is an interesting one. Because the heart is now going somewhere undefined, it kind of implies that you are now throwing over your heart (throw over: refuse, reject, decline, pass up, throw out, turn down, ignore, pass; to end a relationship). Once your heart is rejected, then everything else (obstacles, horse) follows... either you, or the lost heart. What an interesting take that I wouldn't have thought of before! Thank you for sharing it with me!