#hi this has been in my drafts for months

[overchromatic]

Ghost Eclipse

[therainbowtea]

POV: Your husband has Instagram

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[tcustodisart]

Snoring Competition. Who'll take home the championship title?

[dykeyaoi]

I feel like a lot of fanon tends to miss what seem to be three pretty crucial things about Teru, and it's weird because they are easy to miss, but they're also so important that without them he's very superficial. it's part of why he gets so yassified almost every time he's adapted (see: manga into anime into fancontent)

one is that this kid is smart. on my first watch of his debut arc I assumed he was psychically cheating to be one of Black Vinegar's top students. now though I don't think so: firstly, I'll admit, because he doesn't actually seem to have a way to do that except blackmailing other kids for answers or something; but secondly because throughout the series he's just good at figuring stuff out. he picks up complicated psychic techniques more quickly and frequently than anyone else, including Mob. he was the one who almost beat Shimazaki. he figured out that Psycho Helmet was Dimple from the fact that he was a spirit who knew Teru's name, not a lot of info to go on. he draws conclusions in the somewhat haphazard but very clever way a detective does.

two, he's motivated so much by anger. this one's something of a hot take but it's so there to me that I can't leave it out if I'm Teruposting. before meeting Mob yeah he thought he was special and important for having powers but he was also extremely lonely and subconsciously mad at everyone else for not having them. he's the only one who has to deal with Claw he's the only one who has to live alone because his powers make it dangerous for his parents, he's the only one strong enough to be the shadow leader. he'll do it because he's the Protagonist but god he's gonna be pissed the whole time. it's not what he wants (we only get to see what he wants later with Mob and Reigen and everyone else) but it's all he has for a long time. seventh division shows the intersection between I Should Be Satisfied Now Teru and I'm Better Than These Guys Teru very nicely

last and kind of most important is his thing for Mob. I absolutely believe ONE wrote Teru to be queer and he definitely had or has a crush on Shigeo, but I also think that at least part of said crush is him misconstruing his adoration and the pedestal he's put his friend on. until after the Confession Arc, the two of them getting together would be really tricky and probably not good. Mob still feels bad about what he did at Black Vinegar for most of the rest of season one, and the only reason Teru changed in the first place was because of the cavernous gap in power between the two of them. until he declares Shigeo his rival and realizes that he has faults and any destruction he causes isn't perfectly righteous, Teru can't love him.

there's as much to his character as there is to the other main characters, and I get the easy appeal of the flattened version of him but when he's flanderized into this sparkly gayboy who's also sad sometimes, it makes me sad.

[monstermoviedean]

it's wild to me that "cas thought dean only cared about him because he was useful" has become such a common belief when there is actually way more evidence for "dean thought cas only cared about him because he was useful"

[the-meme-monarch]

hi i wanted to rewrite the butterscotch cinnamon pie recipe i borrowed as of this post now that I’ve made it maybe 5-6 times and have messed with variables and made things easier for myself, though maybe it’s more convoluted to read

I’ve made my own pastry crust a few times but none of them were to my liking. graham cracker crusts forever ok.

in a medium saucepan:

-1 cup brown sugar

-1/4 cup water

bring to a boil, stirring. once thick and bubbling, turn off heat

in a bowl or maybe a measuring cup:

-5 tblsp heavy cream

-2 tblsp butter

-1 3/4 cups milk

RESERVE 6 TBLSP OF THE MILK/CREAM, but go ahead and put the rest into the saucepan and mix

in a second bowl, mix:

-6 tblsp of that milk/cream that I told you to reserve you reserved it right

-2 egg yolks

-1/2 tsp salt

-4 tblsp cornstarch (i recommend putting the cornstarch in last, so you can immediately start mixing it and it doesn’t become a Brick in the bottom of the bowl/measuring cup)

continue whisking this cornstarch mixture and ladle in maybe 3-4 ladle-fulls of the saucepan mixture to temper the eggs. Then pour it into the saucepan mixture. turn the heat back on, to med-high, stirring constantly until thickened (and i Mean constantly, bc it will just very suddenly turn thick) maybe 2 minutes

add and mix in:

1 tsp cinnamon

1 tsp vanilla extract

maybe make some whip cream to put on top when you’re ready to eat it but honestly it’s fine without it

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

[hayscodings]

mother and son <3

[oceanwithouthermoon]

saiki kusuo would work in a cafe or bakery just for the employee discounts on sweets

[sagau-my-beloved]

Death At The Hands Of A God Pt. 2

Warnings: general sagau, imposter au, light descriptions of violence/gore, you're resurrected after being killed (by Venti), not really angst but not really comfort or fluff either

-

Death was not as dark or empty as you had come to expect...

Was this death? Or maybe something in between—

Yes, that seemed like a better way to describe what you were experiencing, something in between real and unreal, existence and nothingness.

You couldn't think, see, feel, anything, as if you were simply a disembodied form of consciousness, waiting.

For what?

You didn't possess that answer, nor the ability to even contemplate the question. If you had the ability to think, you would have wondered briefly if this was what the characters you played as experienced when falling in battle, a void detached from both time and space.

This state of mere existence didn't last long, or, perhaps, it did. Perhaps it lasted many lifetimes, eons upon eons. It's not as if you would have recognized the difference, no different than how time passed when asleep.

You were pulled passively away, out of that void which welcomed you so, called for you, urged you to stay in its own impartial way. A call you didn't have the ability to respond to, as it simply wasn't your choice.

When you opened your eyes again you were met with something unfamiliar, the only hint of recollection stemming from a strong sense of déjà vu and nothing more.

It took you a moment to regain a sense of thought, of consciousness, remember that you were, in fact, an organic being even capable of having thoughts.

You blinked gently, taking in the scene before you, the soft breeze and wide planes spanning on for miles, the sparsely scattered trees, and the brief reflection of a river. You recognized it, in a way, and something in the back of your mind screamed that you were in danger, as if your subconscious knew of what your conscious self was trying so hard to remember.

It took but a second to move your head downward, your eyes finding themselves looking upon a kneeling form that seemed rather unaware of your presence, despite being directly beneath you. It took another moment for your brain to process what exactly you were seeing and why you felt so stricken with terror.

Oh.

Oh god.

As if having the air forcibly removed from your lungs, you felt the world around you collapse, instinctually bringing your hands up to your own throat where you last remembered feeling anything at all.

The sharp inhale is what caught his attention, what caused the previously silent archon, you had come to recognize as no other than your murderer, to raise his head in an unsure movement of fear and hope.

It was you, oh god, it was you.

The weight of every conceivable emotion that tangibly existed ran through his body, only an underlying inkling of self-restraint stopped him from lunging at your feet. He had been praying to you before your sudden appearance, begging for forgiveness, and what else could this be?

It had been only a month since your "passing", and Venti found himself engaging in ritualistic prayer every day since. It was the only thing that kept him sane with his past actions weighing on him constantly, a way to remind himself that you were still alive in spirit. While your mortal shell may be gone, the essence of the almighty creator would forever linger. It was only during these moments of prayer that Venti felt any semblance of the freedom he lost, the freedom he mourned, so he could pretend, if only for a moment, that everything was no different than how it was before that night.

The month had been the purest form of heavenly torture, and no amount of alcohol or sleep could distract him long enough to even pretend that all was well. His presence all but disappeared from the face of Teyvat, as he simply spent more time staring at one of your many shrines than breathing most days. The death of the creator, the murderer of an eternal god, a curse he alone had to bear the knowledge of.

His restraint broke quickly as you seemed to stumble backwards, creating more distance between the two of you than he was comfortable with.

"Your grace."

Felling your title on his tongue, feeling how it passed through his lips, he dreamed nightly of this moment, when he was able to dream of anything other than you so gracefully falling and the golden essence that seeped from your form where his arrow pierced it.

"You."

His heart fell, dropped down into his stomach, and shattered.

"You grace I—, I..."

Despite his seemingly endless internal thesaurus, the bards' mind drew a blank on what to say next.

What could be said? Was this not forgiveness? Was it not your will to grace him again with your presence after an agonizing month alone?

He didn't know you, not really, not personally. All he could attribute you to was the subtle feeling in the back of his mind, the strange whisper helping to guide his choices, the feeling of being watched over, before his mistake that is.

He knew of your legend, too. All the thousands of songs composed in your honor by heart, the unrelenting chattering of people carried by the wind when your name graced their lips. Every short story and unprovable myth about your existence prior, your power of creation and how you passed that power down to the mortals you created.

He knew the idea of you, no different than how his people knew the idea of Barbatos, though never truly him. Yet, as he looked upon you, past the fear, past your human vessel, there was a sense of deep familiarity that rang out and flooded his senses. A feeling that made him want nothing more than to simply know you, know everything unspoken and hidden beneath the layers of divinity, stay with you always and cherish every new piece of information, no matter how miniscule.

You glanced quickly to the left, thinking very carefully about simply making a run for it, wondering how much time you'd have before he could draw his bow and why he hadn't done so yet. Your body froze slightly at the thought, flashes of your prior life running through your mind and the unbridled fear they brought.

Venti seemed to pick up on your train of thought and couldn't stop himself from jumping into action at even the notion of more space being forced between you.

"I'm so so so sorry. I know I can't begin to repent, but please. I took care of the offender! You don't have to worry about them now—"

While rambling, Venti was inching ever closer to where you stood, trying to get close enough to safely grab on to any part of you and never let go. If he could just touch you, just secure the fact in his mind that you were alive.

Your mind was spinning with all the information, still not working at full capacity, muddled and hazy.

"Offender?" Was all you managed to choke out, wondering briefly if he was referring to your past life.

His face paled slightly at your tone. Did you really, truly not know the reason he was forced to—?

"The one in your throne, the one who took your place... The one who— who ordered your... death."

It hurt him to say the word, physically pained him, as if it was a blade caught in his throat, a harsh reminder of his transgressions.

"I— what?"

Venti had made it close enough to wrap his arms around your legs, clinging on for dear life as he reviled in feeling you, prepared to take any blows from your hand if only to stay there, it wasn't as if he didn't deserve it, and it would be blasphemy to deny anything you were gracious enough to give him.

You jumped at the sudden contact, but it was obvious he meant you no harm, though, that fact was particularly hard to convince your mind as it screamed at you to run away from the offender.

For a brief moment, the Venti you knew flashed in your mind as you felt his hands gripping the fabric of your clothes, clouded your vision with how often you used to admire him, back when this was all nothing more than a game. Just a simple game. The concept felt so foreign now.

You shifted your weight slightly and felt him hold on tighter. It took you a moment to realize he was crying, silent tears adorning his soft features.

What could you do? Was it even humanly possible to forgive something of this nature? Had any other being ever been faced with making this choice?

You had to clear your mind, ignore everything around you and focus on what you now knew. This was real, you were some figure of importance— or at the very least looked similar to one, and your death was ordered by someone who had control of even the gods of this world.

You looked down again at him, how he looked so desperate and utterly heartbroken, how he really believed himself to be the bearer of the ultimate transgression.

Without thinking, you moved your hand to his face, brushing your fingertips against the flushed skin, damp with tears. His eyes opened at your touch as he looked up at you, his hands moving from around your leg to your hand, grasping it tight as he held it to his face. This was certainly an odd form of comfort, if it could even be called that, but any touch from you was nothing but divine bliss for him.

Venti mumbled things against your skin now as he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing again, as if in prayer. He spoke breathy promises of love, devotion, and repentance, of an infinity without pain or sorrow under his watch, how he'd spend his entire immortal life by your side if you'd allow it, making up for his grave sin.

The few words you caught only led to a growing concern. This wasn't the carefree and playful bard you knew, nor was it the caring but serious god who loved his nation, this was something else entirely, something desperate and zealous, something dangerous...

You started to wonder how long it would take for you to regret your inevitable resurrection when faced with an immortal god who would not live to see you part from him again…

[localaceken]

They should have 'killed' Jay in Seabound.

It would have been the perfect parallel to Nya dying at the end of Skybound.

Nya dying at the end of SKYbound.

Jay dying at the end of SEAbound.

The perfect Jaya parallel...

I still don't understand how they messed that up THEY HAD THE PERFECT SET UP AND THEY FUMBLED IT!!!!!

[butch--dean]

Thinking about Dean during the Stanford era just before everything went down going to see Brokeback Mountain in theaters. He heard whispers about it but would deny that he knew anything about it if anyone had been around to ask. One night he sneaks into a theatre in a mid-sized town (not so big that it would be busy, not so small that he would stand out). He buys tickets for a different film and sneaks into a late-night showing, and makes sure to sit in the back so he can avoid the judgmental gaze of other patrons (they're not judging you, Dean, they're here for the same reason you are).

Thinking about Dean watching the slow-building yearning and the casual displays of intimacy and affection between Jack and Ennis during their summer ranching. Thinking about how they both go on to get married and have kids but continue to feel so deeply dissatisfied with their lives. Thinking about their reunion 4 years later and a kiss so frenzied that it bruised their noses. Thinking about twenty years of back-and-forth, of yearning for something one of them is too afraid of have. Thinking about the heartbreak of “I wish I knew how to quit you” and “sometimes I miss you so much I can’t hardly stand it” and "it's because of you, Jack, that I'm like this," and "there ain't ever enough time." Thinking about Dean silently breaking down during Ennis' call to Jack's widow, and again when he enters the closet of his lover's childhood bedroom to find a relic of their relationship, hidden away in a dark corner. Private. Loved.

When Dean left the theatre, he was a changed person - heartbroken for something that, in that very moment, he couldn't name within himself. I think that he carries the story with him throughout the series. Eventually, he is able to name that heartbreak - of loving someone so completely but never being able to say it. Of fearing what others would do if they knew, of having someone but never allowing yourself to actually have it.

Of course he sees the comparisons to be made between Cas and him. He sees what his insistence in believing in Cas, even when his gut tells him otherwise, means. He understands what is being left unspoken in long, drawn out gazes and crooked smiles. He knows that their post-death hugs and late nights spent chatting with each other while watching the old westerns that Dean loves mean so much more than they pretend.

I think that over the years, Dean would return to the film and re-mourn the loss of Jack. Over and over, on nights when Sam is out late researching in an archive and Dean knows he has a few hours alone. He has a torrented copy (because he can't risk the physical evidence being found, even after settling into the bunker). I think that Charlie probably downloaded for him, because of course - she knew. Maybe she slipped it in a batch of movies Dean requested from her, with a few of her own added in for good measure. He regrets never having the chance to thank her for that.

After Cas dies and goes to the empty, Dean hangs the jacket with the bloody handprint on the inside of his dresser door. He stands there and thinks about Ennis finding his and Jack's bloody shirts intertwined in a hidden spot in the back of his closet, together, after his death. Dean stands, staring at the jacket, heartbroken. He thinks about loving and losing and never-really-having. Of letting yourself bask in the sun, shining on your face. If he can't have Cas, he wishes that the universe, or Chuck, or whatever, had at least seen fit to have left him with Cas's trench coat to protect on the inside of his stained jacket. But it (or he) didn't, all he has left is the relic of his not-lover's handprint, marked in blood.

[sn0wbat]

more einarr!

i just wanted to draw some very stylized scars on him again. while also making the queerest drawing of him yet. thanks.

[andi-o-geyser]

“cody only has under an hour of screen time in all of star wars” maybe to you he does. to me he's the main character

[wemefication]

Rowoon as Haru in episode 7

EXTRAORDINARY YOU (2019) dir. Kim Sang Hyub & Kim Sang Woo

[gothic-mothic]

[kiirotoao]

Can we talk about Mileven for a minute. Another reason I don't buy their romantic relationship is the fact that most of their one on ones as a romantic couple (S3) are comedic and not very serious. Where are the deep conversations and when are we ever shown how much they understand each other... post (S2). It's almost like once they started dating they became a joke? Yes they have a few sweet moments but it's also scripted to be laughable. (S4) never showed them having a honest deep convo resolving issues and growing romantically. It could happen in (S5) but at this point I don't see the emotional romantic draw.

And then there is Byler to compare it to, where most of their one on ones are much much more serious, deep, heartfelt, with actual evidence of understanding and talks involving their feelings (which Mike seems to not have an issue with unlike his plot in S4 with El). This, mind you, happens to some degree in every season with Will. If Mike just sees Will as his best friend, why is he so serious about Will especially alone together. Even best friends are more casual then this.

Also a side note. The (S3) Mileven straight stereotype of the 'lazy, lying, clueless boy' dating the 'girl who is playing hard to get to teach her boyfriend a lesson' troupe is icky and makes me want El to find her power solo and Mike to remember that the old Mike (who has a special will voice) is a much better person and boyfriend. Thoughts?

Damn! Well said, dear anon!! I couldn’t agree more.

To anyone who says anything along the lines of ‘oh, Mleven can’t be broken up, they’ve been building up this whole time!’ Or ‘here’s the slow burn everyone wanted,’ or ‘Mike and El have grown so much even after fighting,’ I really don’t understand how any of that is founded. I totally agree and I feel like their relationship has been rather unserious. Even in the most serious love-centered topics of support (s1), connection (s2), breakups (s3), and expression (s4), it’s really interesting to me how their relationship has consistently lacked depth.

Despite dealing with some of the most important aspects of strong relationships, they aren’t close enough to showing, providing, or proving to have one. Mike supports El in season 1 as she does him, protecting and aiding each other with their strengths. But… so does everyone in that season to each other? The only difference is that Mike sheltered El which is very sweet, but not inherently romantic.

Then there’s season 2, which I must confess - I think that their reunion scene at the end of the season remains one of the sweetest moments on the show. Ever. It’s raw and emotional, and this was the closest thing we got to something romantic. But what shoots it down is the fact that their emotion was due to forced separation and Mike’s very real complex grief which gets completely glossed over in the show. So, I don’t know. It’s tricky. So are they romantic yet? They get virtually no time together. It’s a no for me.

And oh yeah, season 3 was the peak of unserious-ness. I also don’t enjoy that trope of ‘the boy chasing the girl who just doesn’t get it yet and she snubs him until the very end’ kind of energy. I swear that that stuff is littered in family-friendly movies usually as comedic relief, and Mike and El just barely made that trope more serious at the very least. Their breakup is dramatized and humorous, and the way that it’s mended still makes me chuckle. Mike offers her M&Ms, compliments her looks, they smile at each other, and suddenly they’re all good again? Yeah, that’s not very clear romance to me. All season long, they keep resisting each other. Mike lashes out to everyone and declares that he loves El but can’t say it to her face, and El has Max’s words tattooed on her heart that she keeps asserting that she deserves trust. The two just don’t quite reach each other that season. The second that I heard Hopper say that they’ve only been kissing all Summer long without complaining about them talking, I knew that I was not going to be invested in their relationship this season.

And so season 4 was truly the nail in the coffin, the final turning point. They’re not only shallow in making up, they’re shallow in being together. El isn’t honest with Mike about her time in Lenora, how she’s spent it, the people she’s met, the fun she’s truly having. Mike snaps about Will being disinterested, so it’s pretty clear that he was dishonest about his true feelings that day, too. And the most telling part is that he’s not mad at El. He’s mad at Will.

I think that what the writers have done is craft something so deeply intricate and hidden with Mike and Will to the point of confusion in much of the audience today. Will has always been a buffer of affection for Mike. In season 1 he’s the one they’re searching for. In season 2, he’s the one that Mike protects. In season 3, he’s the true breakup that Mike fights for. In season 4, he’s the listening ear and bleeding heart that Mike relies on. Their love only gets stronger and stronger whereas Mike and El are simply loving under the guise of physical closeness. I seriously think that that’s all that they have for each other.

That hug sequence at the end of season 4 really shocked me, because when I saw Mike and El hugging (not to mention that shot with Will right between them) I thought that it was sweet, but then suddenly Will and El are hugging, the siblings who are absolutely platonic, and it felt more emotional than Mike and El’s embrace. So not only are Mike and El visually equated to a platonic relationship, but their bond doesn’t even hold the same weight as the sibling-hood of Will and El.

It’s just wild to me that people don’t see it. I think that Byler is made abundantly clear for us to root for. The crazy together scene did it for me the first time I saw it. It was and still is one of my favorite scenes ever because it’s the total package. Closeness? Check. Honesty? Check. Hurt/comfort? Check. Matching, nerdy Halloween outfits? Check. The lack of anyone or anything else to distract them? Check. The crazy together scene is a marker of their relationship, and it never, ever dies.

Even though they fight, where are they years later? They’ve gone through supernatural and personal troubles together, and they’re still by each other’s side. “Friends. Best friends.” The same at heart. They promise to support each other, they reconnect, they come back from every breakup, and they readily express things on their minds and hearts. They’re there for each other and tell each other things that no other boys in the party have told each other.

Mike and El try to understand each other, they do, and sometimes it’s just trying that’s enough, but on a truly intimate level, that’s bullshit. Mike and Will have everything that they need and want for each other, and there’s no going through hoops to get it besides internalized homophobia. Which I very well think can be reasonably addressed next season.

So yep. Byler is endgame.