#but. like. whatever you get it

[dirtbra1n]

the river looks different than it normally does.

it’s nighttime. the moon hangs gaunt and yellowed over his head.

more than that, masato stands knee deep in the water and watches people walk the paved riverside, red neon carving shadows into the hollows of their eyes.

the river looks different than it normally does, but so does he.

a white kimono, fitted too well, is wrapped wrong over his chest.

the water tugging at him is murky, the smell over-sweet. the kimono is taking on the color.

evidently, though he can scarcely see, it’s red.

his room is pitch dark when he opens his eyes. masato damn near throws up. moving to stand, his knees buckle beneath him. gravity acts particularly cruel in the dark.

—

aegri somnia, latin; a sick man’s dreams.

—

it’s usually green. the space outside the water is usually green. masato would even go so far as to say it’s always green. washed out, sun bleached, makes him feel a little like he’s always being watched, but it is always daytime and it is always green and the water is always clear enough for him to see his hands in front of his face as—

this doesn’t actually matter right now.

what matters is that it has never been anything but green before.

(when he was sitting cold and dying in a frozen river, that was a fluke. that doesn’t count.)

ordinarily, he stands in the river—unpaved, the riverbank wasn’t ever paved either—and watches what he’s decided has to be centuries old scenery exist, only here, to torment him.

then masato drowns himself. ordinarily.

(with the development in the subconscious violence he’s inflicting upon himself now, he figures he might as well admit that much plainly.)

masato is good with history, not that this topic takes much savvy—river valleys universally birth societies. they tend to be fertile and bursting with opportunity. lively. full of life.

all those flood myths are universal because the destruction is always catastrophic.

the overlap of history and literature here isn’t something he’s left wondering about; he’s had plenty of time stuck with himself to think it over.

what existed must be razed to be remade.

what masato is wondering is if he missed something else.

—

all those drownings, but the coffin bobbed downstream to save him only once.

but this last time… he didn’t drown, did he?

—

he doesn’t know what he was expecting.

when masato finds himself, this time, past his knees in changed river water, yellowed moon hanging over him like a sickle, deep blues of the night muffling the sound of his own breathing, lantern light and buzzing neon so red that it masks the dyed water creeping its way up the same white kimono as before…

he doesn’t know what to think. it’s horrifying. it’s gorgeous.

it has to be blood, though.

why the hell is there blood?

masato squints up at the masses of people shifting on the pavement. their faces are indistinct, their movements stiff.

they don’t so much as glance at him. he’s standing in the river with an audience for the first time and no one even looks at him.

reluctantly, he looks down at himself.

he’s bleeding.

—

it wasn’t really the first time, though, was it?

—

masato forgot how annoying it is to be in this situation. he got too used to the old scenery, and he forgot.

he only wishes that this scenery wasn’t so breathtaking. only one thing is supposed to be taking his breath away, and it hasn’t done it in… a while.

(he doesn’t remember. he figures that’s bad, but look where he is. everything, it turns out, is bad.)

his latest observation: the moon, waning and never any closer to full, is getting sharper. its reflection in the water is rippling harmlessly, but the real thing, when he squints, looks to be pointed right at his stomach.

and the water is past his hips now.

oh. oh, good.

his new latest observation: time loops, and it warps the blood in the water over and over and over again. every time the water level’s higher. every time the moon gets sharper.

every time masato is surrounded by ghosts, and every time masato is the only one dressed for a funeral service.

as the corpse.

—

so what if graduation is less than a week away. yes, masato has been waking up in the middle of the night because of an unsettling now-recurring dream where he is a corpse in a world of faceless ghosts. yes, it sucks.

but he and tashiro are playing rock paper scissors over which of them has to turn off the gym lights and make a run for the lights outside, and this is the last time masato is ever going to hold any responsibility here.

and they both keep tying on rock.

so they agree to do it together.

tashiro’s the one to flick the lights off, and they both drop into a dead sprint towards the open doors. they hear a noise. they find it in themselves to run faster.

they make it outside in one piece, and masato fumbles the key into the lock, and they fall halfway into each other’s arms from the adrenaline and the fear. and masato is laughing.

as they’re walking away from the gym, towards the front gate to head home, masato is hunched over, clutching his stomach.

tashiro walks alongside him with his hands on the back of his head, pouting a little. “we could have DIED, you know.”

so it’s like that.

—

the moon is falling. pierces his lungs clean through.

—

tashiro gonzaburou doesn’t actually dream very often. this is something he can tell you in confidence, and he will tell you in confidence.

but this is definitely a dream, and he has no idea where something like this came from.

to set the scene: he’s at the bank of a river. he’s alone. the sun beats down on him, and the glare of it on the water makes him turn his eyes away.

apparently, in this time, the river floods. it, also apparently, took basically everything with it. including the sun.

it’s night now, and everything that was green is either dark orange or blood red. dim and damp alleyways run jaggedly between impersonal skyscrapers and crumbling, very old storefronts.

gonzaburou’s scared as hell about it. it’s all really cool.

he’s standing on damp cobblestone, staring down at his scattered reflection. his hair is loose, and his roots have grown out way more than he likes. a dark kimono hangs loose off his frame. he frowns.

he looks back up and around. it looks like there are other people, but he can’t get a good look at anyone’s face. the lights glazing their skin are distorting common features, or they’re facing away from him, or their hands are resting over their eyes.

for all his sightseeing, the river never lets him forget that it’s there. from two steps away he looks into murky water, sees a yellow crescent moon flickering, like it’s trapped, in its reflection. then he sees the briefest trace of a hand, and white cloth, and bubbles surfacing.

and then he sees his room’s ceiling fan. dusty.

gonzaburou feels a little like he wasn’t supposed to see that. and he feels even more strongly that he definitely isn’t supposed to remember it awake.

but how could he forget? how could anyone forget something like that?

it was really pretty. up until he saw what looked like someone drowning, anyway.

—

masato sits up. lays down. sits back up.

he wants to break his windows. he doesn’t, though.

he was underwater looking up, and he was bleeding, and he saw the moon, yeah, but what matters is that he also saw the faintest silhouette of a person against the red light, ripples only just obscuring his face.

and then he gasped, and the water burned as it flowed into his lungs and made him heavy.

he’d been in that situation before, usually by choice, but it hasn’t ever been that thrilling.

4:00 in the morning. not a chance in hell he’s getting back to sleep.

…he has to have weird tastes, right?

—

hanzawa masato is a high school graduate when he eats shit on the pavement.

a little flatly, masato tells tashiro, “I’m usually better at compartmentalizing than this.”

tashiro, his sole witness, only replies, “I know.”

[hell0mega]

people are drawing Steamboat Willie Mickey doing all this crazy shit and whatnot, but you could always do that. you can do that now, with current Mickey, just fine. it's fanart and it's legally protected. hell you could take Disney-drawn Mickey and put a caption about unions or whatever on it and it would still be protected under free speech and sometimes even parody law.

what is special about public domain is that you can SELL him. you could take a screenshot and sell it on a tshirt. you can use him to advertise your plumbing business. people have already uploaded and monetized the original film.

you could always have Mickey say what you want, but now you can profit off it.

[thesaltyace]

Y'all I did NOT know this about Harris, and I think it's really critical that we all listen and understand as we approach this election. Video at the end.

This creator's video describes how progressive Harris was as a prosecutor -- actively going against the grain to the point she was accused of being soft on crime. Accused of being a social worker, not a prosecutor. She calls it being smart on crime. She's pushing for systemic changes to give real pathways to reintegrate incarcerated folks back into society and prevent their past from continuing to haunt them moving forward.

"Kamala's a cop" is a catchy dismissive response usually used to shut down conversation rather than add nuance. But this kind of reform is ESSENTIAL to work towards a present and future that treats incarcerated people with value.

I fell for it in 2020 and have thought "Kamala's a cop" without further inspection since - and I'm sobered by the realization that (you guessed it!) I'm not immune to propaganda.

A better system only follows liberal democracy, because library democracy allows for exploration of better systems. If authoritarianism takes hold, it will not allow for the exploration of better systems. We will have to fight tooth and nail just to try to get back to liberal democracy, and I suspect we could not achieve it in our lifetimes.

Harris isn't perfect. But she's a hell of a lot better than many leftists have led me to believe. Don't let perfection be the enemy of good. Don't let perfection be the enemy of harm reduction.

We can either help elect Trump and usher in authoritarian fascism, or we can help defeat him and pull things back in the direction we want to go. Not liking the choices doesn't absolve you from participating and doing the most good you can with the options available.

I'll link the original video in the replies. The original video has captions if you need them.

[collgeruledzebra]

the thing about trying to recommend fiction podcasts to someone who isn't familiar with them is that not only are so so many genres represented but also the level of production can fall anywhere from "basically an audiobook" to "major motion picture minus the pictures"

[noodles-and-tea]

Little Stan getting manipulated by Bill has excellent angst potential but consider.

Stanley just, keeps tricking Bill. Because Bill would definitely massively underestimate Stanley and how far he’ll go to protect Ford (like in the actual show). We also know Stanley has the street smarts between the twins and could absolutely tell Bill is full of it.

And because Bill would absolutely loose his mind if he kept getting foiled by a snot nosed eight year old that isn’t even supposed to be here

I like to think that he doesn’t even try that hard he just does not even care about bill

[reptilia2003]

i really think some of you are just lazy…like omg what do you mean I have to do the dishes again I just did them yesterday?!?

[bixels]

Learning that fans hated Applejack and called her "boring" is crazyyy to me because I genuinely, unironically believe AJ's the most complex character in the main six.

Backstory-wise, she was born into a family of famers/blue collar workers who helped found the town she lives in. She grew up a habitual liar until she had the bad habit traumatized outta her. She lost both her parents and was orphaned at a young age, having to step up as her baby sister's mother figure. She's the only person in the main gang who's experienced this level of loss and grief (A Royal Problem reveals that AJ dreams about memories of being held by her parents as a baby). She moved to Manhattan to live with her wealthy family members, only to realize she'll never fit in or be accepted, even amongst her own family. The earlier seasons imply she and her family had money problems too (In The Ticket Master, AJ wants to go to the gala to earn money to buy new farm equipment and afford hip surgery for her grandma).

Personality-wise, she's a total people-pleaser/steamroller (with an occasional savior complex) who places her self worth on her independence and usefulness for other people, causing her to become a complete workaholic. In Applebuck Season, AJ stops taking care of herself because of her obsessive responsibilities for others and becomes completely dysfunctional. In Apple Family Reunion, AJ has a tearful breakdown because in she thinks she dishonored her family and tarnished her reputation as a potential leader –– an expectation and anxiety that's directly tied to her deceased parents, as shown in the episode's ending scene. In The Last Roundup, AJ abandons her family and friends out of shame because believes she failed them by not earning 1st place in a rodeo competition. She completely spirals emotionally when she isn't able to fulfill her duties toward others. Her need to be the best manifests in intense pride and competitiveness when others challenge her. And when her pride's broken, she cowers and physically hides herself.

Moreover, it's strongly implied that AJ has a deep-seated anger. The comics explore her ranting outbursts more. EQG also obviously has AJ yelling at and insulting Rarity in a jealous fit just to hurt her feelings (with a line that I could write a whole dissection on). And I'm certain I read in a post somewhere that in a Gameloft event, AJ's negative traits are listed as anger.

Subtextually, a lot of these flaws and anxieties can be (retroactively) linked to her parents' death, forcing her to grow up too quickly to become the adult/caregiver of the family (especially after her big brother becomes semiverbal). Notice how throughout the series, she's constantly acting as the "mom friend" of the group (despite everything, she manages to be the most emotionally mature of the bunch). Notice how AJ'll switch to a quieter, calmer tone when her friends are panicking and use soothing prompts and questions to talk them through their emotions/problems; something she'd definitely pick up while raising a child. Same with her stoicism and reluctance at crying or releasing emotions (something Pinkie explicitly points out). She also had a childhood relationship with Rara (which, if you were to give a queer reading, could easy be interpreted as her first 'aha' crush), who eventually left her life. (Interestingly enough, AJ also has an angry outburst with Rara for the same exact reasons as with EQG Rarity; jealous, upset that someone else is using and changing her). It's not hard to imagine an AJ with separation anxiety stemming from her mother and childhood friend/crush leaving. I'm also not above reading into AJ's relationship with her little sister (Y'all ever think about how AB never got to know her parents, even though she shares her father's colors and her mother's curly hair?).

AJ's stubbornness is a symptom of growing up too quickly as well. Who else to play with your baby sister when your brother goes nonverbal (not to discount Big Mac's role in raising AB)? Who else to wake up in the middle of the night to care for your crying baby sister when your grandma needs her rest? When you need to be 100% all the time for your family, you tend to become hard-stuck with a sense of moral superiority. You know what's best because you have to be your best because if you're aren't your best, then everything'll inevitably fall apart and it'll be your fault. And if you don't know what's best –– if you've been wrong the whole time –– that means you haven't been your best, which means you've failed the people who rely on you, which means you can't fulfill your role in the family/society, which makes you worthless . We've seen time and time again how this compulsive need to be right for the sake of others becomes self-destructive (Apple Family Reunion, Sound of Silence, all competitions against RD). We've seen in The Last Roundup how, when no longer at her best, AJ would rather remove herself from her community than confront them because she no longer feels of use to them.

But I guess it is kinda weird that AJ has "masculine" traits and isn't interested in men at all. It's totally justified that an aggressively straight, misogynistic male fandom would characterize her as a "boring background character." /s

At the time of writing this, it's 4:46AM.

[carpsoup]

the funny cave bug

[punkitt-is-here]

"people shouldn't call themselves x or y because it makes me uncomfortable" well. Get over yourself lol. Skill issue

[justsomeguycore]

it’s so fucking embarrassing to find a conventionally attractive man attractive every time it happens. like oh you think the handsome man is handsome? you find the attractive guy attractive? derivative. passé. pedestrian

[artschoolglasses]

Americans not giving a shit about the wildfires burning down forests and homes in Canada until smoke starts spreading across the border. Meanwhile Indigenous communities across the country are far more likely to be impacted by the fires and I’ve seen all of one link to a charity and about nine million memes. 🙃

[bigfatbreak]

dad villain au: did emilie just. not consider at all that adrien was literally dying at the time. wow

she's in the habit of deciding when Adrien's suffering is acceptable, and if it is, she'll just fix it later.

[anneapocalypse]

So, just curious how many writers and creators will have to be forcibly outed by relentless harassment before we acknowledge that "This queer characters was written by a cishet person and that's why they're bad" is not good criticism.

[karoochui]

I am admittedly not the most massive fan of human DCA cuz i think some characters aren't human for good reason BUT. i had ideas. So

[introspectivememories]

was it casual when i sat in your lap in public? was it casual when i said "recently my heart is crying because you're leaving"? was it casual when we decided how your last name would fit with mine? ("yuki tsunoda-gasly" / "no tsunoda, only gasly" / "yuki gasly?") was it casual when we sang adele's "someone like you" together at your going away party? was it casual when i knew it was you just by touching your ass? was it casual when i knew it was you by smell alone? was it casual when "will you miss me?" / "for 2-3 minutes maybe" / "i'll take that. even if it's just 2-3 minutes, i'll take that"? was it casual when that bus was completely empty and we still sat right next to each other, all the way in the back? was it casual when i picked you up multiple times so you could dunk a basketball? was it casual when i begged to come over to your house multiple time and then you finally let me and we cooked fried rice together? was it casual when we played christmas twister together and i said "your big eggplant is touching my ass"? was it casual when we were pressed up against each other on a scooter going two miles per hour? was it casual when-

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Ghouls night out

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