#i believe in what i can do for myself.

[terrifyingstories]

today on: flaws being my favorite ❤️

how rose won’t talk about anything Ever and then will have all this pain and resentment about people not understanding or recognizing what her experience has been like.

and in her defense, people often overlook her struggles and she’s had a lifetime of them being minimized (which of course fosters further refusal to be vulnerable. it makes perfect sense she doesn’t trust anyone with her pain because it’s never had permission to exist.) but again, she also won’t tell them even when she is around people who would gladly support her, hope that helps ❤️

[terrifyingstories3]

if there's one constant about rose's phone, it's that it's gonna be broken. between it being damaged in fights with deadly creatures of the night and rose dropping it, throwing it in frustration or oh my god did i really just send that text, FUCK, or her just generally being a menace, her screen is gonna be cracked. she'll get it fixed and she'll be battling it out with some strigoi and it'll end up cracked on the ground and she'll be inches away from strigoi teeth in her neck like "really. AGAIN? REALLY?!"

[albaharu]

gale holding a sword its just so funny to me

[egophiliac]

I feel like F/P/S was still a pretty weird one, even by Lance's standards.

sorry for (in an ironic twist) not doing much Ride Kamens art now that it's actually started; I've been pretty slow going through it and I feel weird posting about things I'm not caught up on! though I'm. definitely gonna have to set aside some time to actually get through episode 13, after what they posted today. (w-what did they do to my Leon) (NOBODY TELL ME I HAVE TO FIND OUT ON MY OWN) (LEOOOOOOOON)

[theceaselessidiot]

Eloise Bridgerton being an absolute mood:

and Cressida's reaction of 'this girl is so weird, but I'm into it??? Wait am I into this??'':

[gomzdrawfr]

it's hard loving yourself

[dreamydelite]

empty glory

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

Broke (2016): BBC Sherlock is a phenomenal piece of media and anything that seems like a flaw just hasn't been fully explored yet

Woke (2020): BBC Sherlock is an incredibly flawed series run by an egotistical writer, it never deserved the hype and is actively bad on so many fronts (especially representation)

Bespoke (2024): BBC Sherlock is flawed and bogged down by increasingly poor writing, which many fans refused to see while it was airing, leading to hugely misplaced expectations (particularly for the final series), AND it has the seeds of some compelling characterizations and portrayals, some genuinely solid performances, and touches--albeit imperfectly--on complexities that are still being discussed today (particularly as it relates to the relationship between Sherlock and John). The huge cultural impact of the show has created a massive pendulum effect in its public perception, leading to most people today remembering a caricature of the show (whether positive or negative) rather than appreciating its nuanced merits and failings...that being said Season 4 sucked

[xenomorphicdna]

On the string propaganda

Heeellll yeah

Bestie is an entire PLACE

I look at those guys and let me tell you the soul of that thing ain't just in the puppet, it's in all the neurons carrying the thoughts and emotions, it's in the power rails that serve as the heart. All the memories in the memory conflux and all the numbers we see flicker across displays, the flux condensers, the puppet; a little avatar.

No way these massive machines see life the same way we do. They have their own experiences and senses and things they hold dear. A world we can't imagine, a way of living we couldn't even comprehend.

I could never tear an iterator apart to be just a puppet. Who am I to decide how's life supposed to be enjoyed or perceived?

You treat your creechurs however you want- I ain't gonna dictate that. But damn, hearing the thrums and buzzes of the linear systems rail? They are alive with so much power, these mechanical beasts are exactly what they should be.

[terrifyingstories]

@lingeringscars, continued.

rose remembers reading once that a gun is an impersonal weapon. a british soldier and police officer explained that a gun could kill “cleanly” and “decently” at a distance, which was viewed as preferable to the “pure savagery” of killing with the hands in close quarters. she hadn’t spent much time on it, because well, dhampirs rarely have much use for guns. they were trained in them, but more as a precaution than anything else - preparation in the event they had to tackle a human threat rather than a strigoi one or needed to take one apart. their preferred method of defense from humans was evasion, and guns were simply a nuisance to strigoi. she would know; she’d watched mason empty a clip into one just seconds before they’d snapped his neck.

she’d never actually seen a team of fully seasoned guardians use them until they were firing at her across a neighborhood. it made sense. one good hit, and they could take down a traitor - if not cleanly and decently, certainly quietly and quickly. they were raised to incapacitate a threat efficiently, and rose supposes it shouldn’t really matter if that threat is a strigoi or human or moroi.

or dhampir.

there was nothing quiet, quick, clean, or decent about the muzzle of denis’ gun flush against her skull. 

nothing impersonal.

she can’t quite shake the betrayal or anguish of that. of denis holding her life, bellamy’s life, in his hands. denis, her friend. denis, another dhampir. not a guardian, but trained to be. one that had chosen not to be because he was tired of watching his friends be sent out to the slaughter for moroi. of seeing dhampir blood spilled for moroi. rose hadn’t agreed with that, but she’d respected it. he’d managed to sift through years of conditioning and judgment instilled in her for those who shirked their duty and uncover a part of rose so tired and weary of being a pawn for the moroi that she could understand denis’ desire to turn his focus and protection to his own people, his own community, his own family. yet, for all his posturing about putting his kind first and vanquishing the threat against their survival, he hadn’t had any problems spilling bellamy’s blood, her blood, for a lot less. 

“please, please. denis.” you don’t want to do this. she was begging him. she had no room for pride with his gun pressed into the gash he’d made earlier, not with the knowledge that as soon as he killed her, bellamy would be next. it was easy to beg for bellamy. as powerless as she felt, as weak and degraded and pathetic, she couldn’t find any shame in her at that. couldn’t find it in her to care at all. “don’t - don’t - this isn’t you. please. look at me. look at me.” but he wouldn’t. pressed the gun in deeper every time she started to turn her head, painfully pulling the knot of hair at the back of her neck to keep her still. it took every bit of self control she had not to give into that basic, primal instinct to keep her eyes on the threat at any cost; she still felt like he was behind her most of the time, still caught herself waiting for the sound of a gun going off.

she should know christian's hands pulling her into him for comfort, but she's still tight in denis' grip as he steers her into position, forces her onto her knees, keeps her head trained forward. "i know you. i know you don't want to do this. denis. please. please. this isn't who you are." you'll never get it out of your head. bellamy will never get it out of his head. bellamy couldn't see this. he couldn't make bellamy watch this. bellamy couldn't look away. she couldn't let bellamy watch this. he couldn't look away. she couldn't make him. she had to stop this. "please." sobbing, now. i love you. "i'm so sorry." i love you.

the gun goes off. she should be dead. fortunately, rose is pretty used to that. somehow, she reacts. manages to knock the gun out of denis' hand before even realizing the gun fire had been in the distance. yet the eyes she ends up looking into aren't denis', but christian's.

rose relaxes her grip immediately, wet face - sweat, tears, she doesn't have the awareness to guess - contorted in horror. "i'm so sorry." she doesn't see any marks on him, couldn't have done much damage, but she'd certainly startled him - though perhaps not as much as herself. "i'm so sorry." still sobbing, though mostly just gasping. she sinks into herself. "did i hurt you. fuck. i'm so sorry."

[terrifyingstories3]

rose loves dancing and has a natural talent for it. she gravitates more to the kind of dancing you’d find at a party or club where there’s music she can find her rhythm in, but she likes other forms of dance, too. she would enjoy slow dancing even though she doesn’t really have much formal training in it with the right partner, and can pick up on things fairly quickly. she thinks dancing is really fun and also just really sexy and there’s a confidence and grace about her when she dances that makes HER very sexy without needing to try. it’s very intuitive to her and speaks to her learning style (physical). she’s the whole moment ya’ll

[myokk]

“She’s tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me”😤😤😤

(Regency AU with Eloise and Sebastian inspired by my slow trek through Bridgerton these days & @bassicallymaestra ‘s AMAZING regency inspired art😮‍💨😇🙏)

[ashestoashes7]

I just spent the past 2.5 hours rereading TSC and I somehow forgot just how emotionally wrenching it is in one sitting so I’m just casually sitting here trying not to fall apart right now.

Instead, I’m going to think of Jeremy Knox’s ability to stay mysterious despite giving us his POV. He does not want to be anywhere near cops and I need to know why. Rhemann thought Jean would be comforted by sending Jeremy away before calling the cops and he dodged them in the park…I have so many questions

[shitouttabuck]

let the world have its way with you

buck/eddie | 54.5k | rated e

“It’s just that—I died,” Buck continues, voice unsteady enough that Eddie wonders if this is the first time he’s acknowledged that out loud. “I died, and there’s so much more. There’s so much more I want to do, things I don’t even know I want to do yet, and I almost had the chance to have and live them taken away. I don’t want to die and regret missing out on everything else, Eddie.”

“So let’s make a list,” Eddie says. “Let’s do them.”

or, a bucket list that’s really about buck needing to make a change and an eddie who’s ready to do anything to see him fall in love with life again. it takes some crossing off for eddie to realise—the thing at the top of the list in his own heart? it’s been right here all along

read on ao3

[kangals]

thinking a lot about that one post that’s like “the most unrealistic part of House MD/medical dramas is doctors that actually give a shit about finding diagnosis for mystery ailments.”

it’s so disheartening to be able to say “hey dr I have this chronic problem that most recently caused me acute and intense pain, what should I do” and being told “idk your tests are all normal so you just have to live with it.”

cool thanks. I’ll just continue having spontaneous, debilitating joint effusion that requires me to drop everything and go to an emergency specialist. but, you know, my Lyme test came back negative, so there’s nothing else that can possibly be done.

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

I've been reading Exodus lately and I've just gotten to the portions where God gives the first commands to the people via Moses (twice), and then goes on to give detailed instructions about the tabernacle and how it should be built, and I'm just... we think art is unimportant?? we think things only mean as much as their functionality?? we so easily fall into the trap of believing that beauty means nothing, that it's cheap and only worth whatever mindless distraction it brings, that it's barely more than a cheap sensual thrill, that buildings should just be practical and plain and cheap, that everything should be functional but ultimately disposable, that paintings and dresses and mugs and curtains and carpets are just pretty but have no real value, that beauty is fleeting and vain and therefore shouldn't be thought about too much, if even looked for at all... we fall into these traps so easily, and we forget that there are chapters upon chapters of painstakingly detailed plans to build one portable worship tent, and those plans have been handed down through thousands of years of human history, because beauty and art and skill in craft is important