#NO NEVER REALLY BEEN IN A CLUB

[bellysbeach]

TAYLOR SWIFT ALBUM RANKING :)

1. SPEAK NOW

2. FOLKLORE

3. EVERMORE, LOVER } tie

4. FEARLESS

5. 1989

6. RED

7. REPUTATION

8. DEBUT

9. MIDNIGHTS

[artisfaction]

Dungeon Meshi Manga Text Posts [ beware light spoilers ]

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And there was no caption that would have been be funnier than the original manga panel, so this is a BONUS, because I think everyone should see it.

[fumifooms]

I don’t like minimizing the importance and gravity of Laios and Toshiro’s fight into just being a childish squabble, even if to a degree it is framed that way, because to both of them it has a lot of personal significance and emotional weight and runs very deep to their characters… The fight isn’t nothing it’s a LOT, they made up but it’s not something easy to express and to get over for either of them which makes it all the more meaningful! I’m on both sides but there very much are sides, there’s no "they’re both having a ball, Toshiro and Laios hand in hand yay" side to the fight, that comes after

The fight with Toshiro WAS very scary to Laios, almost existentially so, but it’s moreso the "I thought I’d made a friend!!" bit and my god. My god actually

Like it’s not "just" about oh his friend liking him less than he thought, THAT IS SO MUCH. It’s a bond he thought he had being a lie it’s all the time and moments spent together either being a lie from his perspective or marred now looking back. It’s not only being upset at Toshiro for lying but upset at himself that he’s so easy to fool, it’s being upset that there’s something so wrong with you that you can’t even tell if your "close buddy" even actually likes you or not, it’s like. Holding my head. He can’t trust his own vision of events that happened do you see. There’s always this film of distrust that it could be a lie that should be there when he interacts with people there’s always this sense of cloak and dagger to expect backstabs out of nowhere because you CAN’T see it coming you CAN’T you CAN’T there’s something about you which makes it impossible so you CAN’T-

He’s so scared of not being able to read people. He knows it’s a weak spot he has, he’s always known. All of these bits are centered around social expectations and betrayals, the assumption that he doesn’t belong either in society or with other humans.

And Laios’ level of awareness is actually sort of complex to analyze, but it’s there, there’s how out of him and Falin he was the one sensitive to the ~aura of hatred~ he felt from the townspeople, there’s of course his nightmares whispering to him about the mocking looks, and how yeah actually he realizes that his gold stripper coworker was taking advantage of him. There’s of course the Winged Lion speech about his trauma and how he fundamentally mistrusts/dislikes humans to some deep seated degree, this distrust that he still keeps under control always. There’s how pre-canon he often wanted to suggest eating monsters but never worked up the courage to bring it up with the others. There’s how he gets across as stoic when he isn’t being enthusiastic…… We don’t know how aware and wary he is exactly in the moment but we do know he has some anxiety around social stuff, and looking back he does notice and aughh augh, the sense you have to hide yourself to not get hurt and be on your guard and shit and.

When you don’t know what to look out for and when to look out for it, the general ‘common sense’ of not always trusting people or noticing when someone’s messing with you becomes hypervigilance in social settings

"Man they really know what you hate huh". Being socially unaware literally plagues him, he knows, he knows it so well.

It’s so quick that it’s almost hard to digest how literal and blatant Laios summoning his monster to crush all the people who’ve hurt him is. His literal go-to coping mechanism for comfort in his literal monster-induced emotionally intense nightmares, saving him by taking away the upsetting element (the humans)

"Monsters are his coping fantasy, where they can whisk him away from humanity, all the hurt it’s caused him and its arbitrary rules" with the subtlety of a brick. Monsters are his comfort safe zone "because they kill humans" yes but no it’s because he pits them as the guardians against humans who to him are in the role of the agressors. To him they represent freedom from the shackles of what it means to be part of humanity, a fundamentally social species

[undertheredhood]

jason todd at all times: y'know, i think i'm doing pretty good for myself as someone who's had four parents that i was never enough for.

[tricoufamily]

added tattoos and some skin details :)

[s0fter-sin]

it’s the sound that tips him off.

it’s late, half-past hell by his last count, and mactavish knows there shouldn’t be a single soul in the showers this time of night. though he’s sure if he asked, he’d be told a soul isn’t in there.

just a ghost.

he almost chokes on the thick steam filling the locker room; humid and hazy and the perfect cover. or it would be, if the man collapsed in the far stall cared about hiding.

mactavish hates himself a little for the low sigh that falls from his lips. he wishes he wasn't so disappointed; that the promises he's heard over and over and watched be broken as many times hadn't wedged their way into his heart and convinced him that maybe, maybe this could be the time it sticks.

he doesn't know what's worse; the disappointment or the lack of surprise.

he holds his breath through the steam and leans over the limp body; stinging hot water hitting his back, instantly soaking through his clothes and already starting to burn. he flicks the tap enough to take the bulk of the heat out and straightens; a groan startling out of the man beneath him at the sudden lash of tepid water.

mactavish crouches, knees clicking and hooks a hand under his bicep to pull him up straight against the wall. if there was any vomit on his skin, it's been washed away by the pelting stream and he supposes he can count himself lucky for that. he tilts his limp head back and slips his fingers into his mouth; holding down his tongue and ignores the way it lazily jolts under his fingers to check his airway.

clear.

another small victory.

mactavish pulls his fingers out and cups his chin, keeping him tilted up and moves in the way of the water again so he can pull at his eyelid.

the eye he's met with is cloudy, so dilated there's hardly a ring of blue left.

he sighs again; hand falling away and letting his eye fall shut. "god damnit, riley."

riley moans, all his weight resting on the hand holding his jaw.

"aye, 'm talking ‘bout you," he grunts tiredly.

he lets riley's head fall forward to grab his arm, pulling him away from the wall to sit behind him; propping his body up against his chest. he leans his head back over his shoulder, keeping his face out of the water and his airway open just in case he hasn't actually finished throwing up.

he takes the rag riley'd half-managed to soap up and mechanically runs it over him; cataloguing new bruises and cuts and checking if the old ones are healing. sickly yellow fingerprints ring his hips, red splotches paint his ribs; too new to have settled into the deep purple he knows they’ll become.

riley slowly makes more noise as he rubs life into his body; still lying limp against his front but his head's starting to roll restlessly on his shoulder. he swipes between his legs and carefully doesn't think a single thing about what he finds.

"sean?" he rasps and mactavish's hand stills; eyes falling shut. he bites his check, hand clenching around the rag tight enough to shake and breathes hard out his nose.

he doesn't say a word, just forces himself to go back to cleaning.

he's not sure what would come out of his mouth if he did.

riley isn't conscious enough to hear him anyway.

he runs his fingers over his inner elbows for tracks and manages to muster some relief when he doesn't find any. seems to be a pill and booze night; far from the worst condition he's found him in.

he rinses him off, running a curtesy hand over his shaved head only for it to fall back to his jaw; his thumb stroking over the thick scar carved into his cheek.

"you gotta stop doin' this," he whispers.

he isn’t sure if he’s talking to riley or himself.

mactavish gathers up riley's too-light body into his arms and turns off the shower. his head lolls into his throat and he throws a towel over his dripping body and another over his shoulder. it doesn't stop him from tracking water all the way to his quarters but he'd like to see someone try to put in a complaint about it.

he lays out the other towel on the bed and sets riley down; moving his body into the recovery position in an all-too familiar routine. he dries him enough that he won't soak the covers as he pulls them up to his chest and kicks the waste bin within grabbing distance of the bed.

he goes to pull off his sodden clothes when a different noise makes him freeze.

a low sniffle.

mactavish slowly turns back to the bed to find riley's eyes squinting open; glazed with tears as he kneads at the covers.

he stares at him for a moment as he looks around the room and those hazy eyes lock on him for the first time. "cap'n?"

he swallows. "aye; s'just me, riley."

his hand pokes out from under the covers and for all the promises he's made himself - all the “never again”s and “this is the last time”s - at the end of the day, he's weak.

he sits on the side of the bed and takes riley's hand in his; already so cold after nearly boiling himself alive.

"y' mad a' me?" he sniffs.

mactavish runs his tongue over his lip and slowly shakes his head. "no, i'm not mad at you."

"prom'se?" he pushes.

he reaches out and caresses his temple with his thumb. his hand almost covers his head and it cuts like a knife to remember just how small riley is. "aye," he says, hushed. "i promise."

riley's eyes fall shut, voicelessly murmuring 'promise’ to himself over and over.

"I’ll ge’ bett'r," he slurs and between one breath and the next, he's out.

mactavish sighs, running his hand in a final pass over his head and stares at a face that looks so much younger in sleep; bruised and sallow skin hidden in the shadows. "i know you will."

he presses a slow kiss to his forehead, shutting his eyes against the grief that wells in his heart and gets up to pull a chair over to the bed; settling in for another long night's vigil of watching his broken lieutenant sleep, ready to tilt him over if he throws up, eyes locked on the slow rise and fall of his chest fearing tonight may finally be the time it stops.

[the-angry-pixie]

the losers love each other moodboards (23/23) - The Losers/Lovers Club 💘

[maxwelljacobfriedman]

“the bang-bang gang”

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

There's a dude in my archery club that kinda hooks the tip of his bow into the bottom of his wheelchair to shoot and he is literally so cool

[candyredappledragon]

kieran everyone's sweetest favouritest little guy. ever.

what are your thoughts on each of the BB elite 4??

ah.. geez. i am not everyones favorite andnotthatsweet..

for the elite 4. they are really cool! drayton likes to poke fun at me at times whenever carmine isnt around but he is tough when it comes to battles. he gives good advice.. though rarely. lacey helps me try to get closer with my pokemon and helped me so much with the club. crispin is really fun to hang out at times, pretty passionate with cooking and eating spicy food...i had my tongue burnt multiple times oof. as for amarys she really looks out for me and checks up on me at times.

amarys and carmine are best friends obviously. she may seem cold and all but she is pretty caring. though sometimes she uh lectures me if i turn up late for meetings and skipping meals. i dont pay attention to time that well i admit......

since i am no longer champion i dont have to deal with leadership and all.. and to be honest i dont really want to be an elite member. dont think i would fit well anyway. the four know each other seemingly well and i barely know them that much. it would be rude of me if i just disrupt their placing they are most comfortable with.

i-i just have a hard time opening up with people is all to be honest..

[goldensunset]

looking back through my philosophy notes at the end of the semester and finding that i had occasionally written stuff like 'wow this guy is stupid' or 'this guy has clearly never gone outside before'

[krikeymate]

Thinking about an AU where 18-year-old Sam on the verge of leaving comes home to her mother screaming at her little sister. Sam's still high, the shouts ringing in her ears but the words formless. She's about to intervene when a slap cuts through it all. Her sister's on the floor and in the blink of an eye Sam has a hand wrapped around her mother's throat, slamming her against the wall.

Tara's climbing to her feet, eyes wide with fear at the scene. Sam doesn't look away from her mother as she says "Tara, go upstairs and pack a bag." Her sister doesn't move, so Sam turns away to look at her and repeats herself. Tara must see something in her wild eyes, because she runs up the stairs.

By the time Sam escorts her downstairs half an hour later, their mother is nowhere to be seen. Tara's led through the packing and into the car in silence. The what's happening?, the where are we going?, the are you ok? sits on the tip of her tongue, choked back by uncertainty and confusion.

Sam drives out of Woodsboro and doesn't look back.

OR

Sam, 19-years-old, long since kicked out of the house and on her way out of Woodsboro. She just has one stop to make, a goodbye she has to give first.

She sneaks into the house. The door is unlocked, she doesn't even need the key Tara hid outside for her, and it enrages her. Her baby sister is upstairs sleeping and anyone can just walk in.

Her mother is passed out on the floor leaning against the couch, snoring away and a bottle still in her lap. She creeps past her and up the stairs.

Sam perches herself on the edge of Tara's bed. Her sister is sprawled out on the mattress, the covers kicked off, and it makes her smile. She brushes Tara's hair back from her face and the smile falls from her face.

Her fingers trail down to the shadow around her neck. Sam reaches over to turn on the bedside lamp, catching sight of Tara's wrist at the same time. These are bruises. She wakes her sister up and demands answers from her. She doesn't like the answers she eventually coaxes from her. She likes Tara's attempt to lie to her even less.

She makes her pack, tells her to wait out front, that she'll be out in a minute. She kicks her mother awake, tells her she's leaving for good, and that she's not leaving alone. She tells her that she will never have the chance to hurt them again, and if she tries, well, she'll learn exactly how much like her father she can be,

[sassmill]

In Act 2 of Lempicka when Tamara and Rafaela enter Le Monocle for the first time they look around at all the women together and Rafaela says “a room full of nothing but US” and Tamara says “let’s never leave” and guys I just went to a lesbian bar for the first time (okay it’s actually a deli but they turn it into a lesbian bar at night) and GUYS? That is the safest I have ever felt out drinking and dancing and I felt so natural and I was surrounded by other queer women and that’s. That’s the first actual queer space I’ve been to in YEARS and especially post-pandemic. And I’m feeling such an overwhelming mix of emotions right now because I didn’t realize how isolated I felt from the queer community in my day to day life (ie not online). I just. God.

Dedicated queer spaces are so important. Lesbian bars are so important. This is the only one I’ve been to but I’m VERY aware that these days there are fewer and fewer of them but I just. I didn’t know how badly this kind of place and experience and connection to community was missing from my life until I suddenly had it tonight.

[namari-hime-moved]

OH! MAD HATTER'S MAD HEART! THE TRANSACTIONS AS FAIR AS FAIR CAN BE!

[natjennie]

i know the plagues being obsessed with thomas was largely a joke bc alison threw her portrait of him in the basement, but I think there's actually a lot of potential for them to get along like. the plague ghosts are largely intelligent, they play games together, talk, comfort each other, the same as the upstairs ghosts. they have a working knowledge of mechanics, they're interested in art and theater. they are honestly some of the most cultured ghosts in the house. they like to learn, they just enjoy being included, they are pretty easy going. thomas likes to talk, likes to teach, likes to engage. all of thomas' exercises and ponderings would be a hit with the plagues I swear. it genuinely seems like they would get along, am I crazy?

[lilmeowmeowsagelesath]

reddit rc community is so different from here, oof 🫣