#i was so jostled

[gayofthefae]

Throwback to(last week) when I tried to decipher Mike's inner monologue from his playlist but just ended up feeling really depressed and kinda nauseous when I got to the season 4 songs.

Say what you will, but they captured his pov in that playlist 😭

[arachnerd-8-legs]

get needle felted. idiot

[benevolenterrancy]

Lamb Wangji and a troublesome goat

[knifefightandchill]

RESIDENT EVIL 4 REMAKE: SEPARATE WAYS (2023)

krauser practicing parkour running in the background

[castorfell]

Och his brain be damaged

[gladiatorcunt]

modern bf!coriolanus snow

“i better find your loving, i better find your heart

i bet if i gave all my love, then nothing’s gonna tear us apart.”

- find your love // drake

[fastcardotmp3]

Jonathan & El cw: implied past child abuse

The first time he hears her call herself bad it strikes him so hard in his sternum that he can't buck up and do something about it.

Jonathan looks at this girl, his sister, who has saved the world time and again, who had saved his brother from a slow death in a terrible place, and she lays claim to a badness that makes him feel kind of sick, actually.

It's the same feeling he got when Will started calling himself a freak, the same feeling he got when Jonathan himself first started learning to play music loud enough he couldn't hear his parents fighting in the other room, even years before he taught that trick to Will.

It's a feeling, ultimately, that swallows stability whole and leaves you to stumble across uneven ground until you find your footing again.

Jonathan just has to-- find his footing again. And that means someone needs to talk to El.

"Because I am," she says when he asks why she calls herself that, sitting at the kitchen table with two mugs of her latest culinary obsession between them-- hot chocolate.

"But what makes you think you're bad?" Jonathan asks, genuinely curious, genuinely getting thrown to the ground by the shake in the earth. "I don't think you're bad."

El presses her lips together, eyebrows low over her downturned gaze as she looks intensely at the little marshmallows sitting on top of her drink like she's trying to solve the puzzle of the world.

Jonathan supposes she kind of is, in a way, contemplating human nature after spending so many years being told what to be, how to fit within a certain set of parameters, how to behave the way Papa wanted her to.

That's another thing that gives him big feelings. Those feelings could probably be solved by caving Brenner's face in, though.

"I have hurt people," is what she lands on, still not looking up but the scowl line between her brows deepening.

And there's no denying it, she has hurt people; she's killed people, as a matter of fact, and she's watched them die, so there's no point in dodging the reality of that here, in trying to say you didn't mean to when he knows she did.

Jonathan opens his mouth and then shuts it again, though, catches himself in the act of trying to tell her that the good she's done outweighs the bad because, for one, he doesn't know if that's true, and for two, maybe it doesn't matter.

"You know," he clears his throat, elbows digging into the table and shoulders hunching up around his ears, "stories-- like Will's books and Hop's TV?-- have really obvious villains most of the time. Bad guys, right?"

El looks up at him, thinks about it, nods.

"Right."

"Okay," Jonathan keeps going, "well, that's because people have always been trying to find-- easy answers for hard things. Things like good and bad. So they created monsters who only ever hurt and heroes who only ever help.

"But, just because it helps us understand why people do bad things, it doesn't mean that-- none of it is really that-- black and white?"

"Black and white?" El questions, but she's not pushing back against him so Jonathan has hope that this is working in some way or another.

"Like, clear and obvious. Like everything has just one answer, but that's not really the case, is it?"

"No," she says with zero hesitation. "Some things are-- confusing."

"Yeah, they are. People are," he pulls his mug closer to himself and taps his fingers along the ceramic.

"So there aren't... bad people?" she looks confused, like she doesn't believe it, like she's actively losing faith in his judgement, so Jonathan shakes his head quickly.

"It's-- It's more like there are just people," he flounders. "And I really-- I don't think I've ever met a person that's only ever been good or only ever been bad."

El looks down at her hot chocolate. Grabs the can of whipped cream and sprays more on top of her cooling drink.

Doesn't take a sip.

"You've only ever been good," she says it slowly, obvious confusion still touching her tone in ways that don't even overpower the rush of emotion Jonathan gets and knowing she really feels that way about him of all people.

He breathes sharply through his nose, opens his mouth and shuts it twice before he manages to say, "I've hurt people too, El."

It's not going to be an easy thing, Jonathan thinks, making sure she understands that people are largely just the choices they make and that people are allowed to choose to change, to get better, and that the people who hurt her, the people she hurt in return, won't be missed by anyone who loves El but might be missed by someone and that no matter how complicated it is and no matter how messy and no matter how surface level wrong it may be she is still not bad.

It's not going to be an easy thing, made clear by the way she looks at him now and visibly tries to make sense of the fact that someone she had deemed as good could possibly have ever done wrong, because those people in that fucking lab drilled absolutism into her head from birth, but fuck. Fuck.

"You're just a person, is all I'm saying," he implores, because it's going to take longer than one conversation over hot chocolate to make any of it make a modicum of sense, even to him. "You're a person and we love you."

Something shakes loose in her gaze at that, a tension releasing from her shoulders, because if there's one thing Hopper and Joyce and those damn kids have done right it's making this make sense to her.

"I love you too," she tells him, and Jonathan has the self control of a saint to not start crying.

When she adds more whipped cream to her drink, he just follows her lead.

[buckingham-ashtray]

The Invisible Clubber........................ SMILING. CAN'T STOP SMILING. LIFE SO HAPPY. LOVE. LOVE LIFE. BEAT GETTING FASTER. CAN'T STOP SMILING. NOW JUST HARMONY. NO BEAT. MELODY. STOP MOVING. SMILE TO THE SKY. ALL STANDING STILL. BEAUTIFUL. NEVER BEEN SUCH HARMONY IN ALL HISTORY. WANT TO KISS EVERYONE. THEY WANT TO KISS ME. BREATHE IN. BREATHE OUT.................

Sebastian's Story.......... Sometimes I wonder what it'll be like to die. I'll find myself drifting off, staring at something, anything and I'll stop blinking. I feel my whole body slowing down... My heartbeat... And I wonder how long it'll be broken

*Sorry that I couldn't find the source where I got this from and have no idea when this was released. If anyone has the link I will be very glad to insert it!

[thistransient]

Stage 3: the pilot announced it was 43°C (109.4F) in Delhi as we landed.

There was barely an immigration queue for foreigners with e-visas, the agent who stamped me in was bizarrely attractive (not that immigration agents can't be hot, it's just not usually their defining feature, especially when middle-aged). I loitered a bit in the arrivals hall and took out some cash before enacting my plan to take the airport metro down one stop and walk to my hotel. I fended off the lone cabby who complimented my hairstyle and made an unsuccessful go at convincing me my hotel wasn't near the metro. I managed the metro security and ticket-buying largely because I'd watched an 'intro to Hindi' video in which the teacher warned that he who attempts to queue nicely in India will be waiting for an eternity. I loitered in the metro station when it became clear that finding the hotel was NOT as easy as google maps might have indicated (on account of an intervening construction site). I made a confused loop back to the entrance before my GPS finally deigned to cooperate, but a tuk tuk driver had already smelled tourist blood in the water and started following me. I told him I was walking "to see the world" and "have an experience". Either baffled or convinced I was insane, he gave up.

My hotel had been around the corner all along, I got a bit misgendered while checking in, and felt out of place in a 5 star establishment with my backpack and dusty sneakers, but they did confirm my reservation, take my money, and give me a room key. I had added on all meals, to save myself having to go looking for sustenance in a new land after a long flight and this is where the real delight began: dinner was a buffet, and perhaps I was making a fool of myself (sometimes there's no getting around this stage) because the waiters came to help me, but eventually I had eaten so many amazing starters, curries, naan, and desserts that I thought they would have to roll me back to my room. I had warned myself not to set my expectations with Bollywood movies but the dining room singer did perform Ikk Kudi from Udta Punjab...

Tomorrow it's back to the airport, but today's been alright.

[selky]

DA:I gifs 001 | Cullen Romance - "Long day?"

[oldtestleper]

saw someone on reddit saying that they thought Galicaea was trying to SAVE Cassandra from their abusive spouse by uhh blotting Ankarna's name from history I guess lol. excuse me Ankarna didn't start out as a rage god any more than Cassandra started out as the Nightmare King have we learned NOTHING from Sophpmore Year. Ankarna was corrupted when they were given the Infernal Armor of Wrath as a wedding gift which cursed them their name and all their blessings. and all of their followers shunned them and when they felt rage at their betrayal the Armor killed them on the spot. and Galicaea and Sol did it on purpose. MARK my FUCKING words.

[skunkes]

my muse came back wrong

[wingsofhcpe]

to the older Western European tourist lady that almost bodyslammed me to next week while running across the train station at full tilt with her massive-ass suitcase: I hope you step on a sea urchin. I hope you get sunburned even when you put on 50 tons of sunscreen. I hope you get charged 40€ for one (1) plate of kalamarakia. And most of all, I hope you never visit this place again.

You're welcome <3

[dreamaze]

BFFL 38/∞ ↪ helping(?) hands

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

damn... kinda mad i didn't die in my dream last night... could've added another method to the list

[tennessoui]

Ohh prompts!

“Sorry, were you sleeping?” & the Couples Counseling AU (my obsession!) but really whatever moves you.

hey hi helloooooo have a dose of idiots (couples counseling au flavored):

(1k)

Obi-Wan briefly considers the thought that the war has ruined him in some yet to be defined or studied way. Then he thinks that if that were true, his therapist would probably have mentioned it to him and Anakin, and she hasn’t said anything about that yet.

So Obi-Wan is doing just fine, really.

He is.

Really.

It’s just that it’s hard to sleep in an empty apartment.

And this has nothing to do with Anakin, because really, the amount of times they slept together on a too-small cot during the war is quite small compared to the amount of nights they slept apart—it really is, alright, he can count those times on both hands using his fingers, he remembers every single one. 

This, he decides, is a dangerous and uncharted road to continue down.

It also seems like an incredibly easy path to wander down, alone and sleepless in his room as the night ticks away into dawn.

But it’s something he can’t afford to let himself think about, now or ever, so after a few more minutes of lying in bed, trying to sleep but mostly finding himself accidentally straying towards thoughts that should not entertained, he forces himself out of bed.

The war has ruined him perhaps in some unidentifiable way because his apartments feel too quiet without the thrum of his warship beneath him, the thumping of trooper boots outside of his quarters, the near silent in and out of Anakin’s breathing and his weight pushing down the mattress next to him.

It’s rather lonely in his quarters in the early hours of the morning.

He isn’t quite sure he likes it.

Perhaps he should get another padawan. They’d be—it’d be better than the silence. Sharing his space with someone, his life…it might be nice. It certainly had been with Anakin, despite the—despite some things.

But he can’t—shouldn’t—get a padawan based off his own loneliness, shouldn’t enter that sort of commitment to try and stem the bleeding wound his own life has become. No padawan deserves that.

Instead, he sits down on the couch and turns on the holo projector. The hum of voices soothes him in a way he can’t quite name or explain, and it’s only a handful of minutes before he lifts his feet up onto the couch as well, curling down against the cushion and slipping his arms around one of the throw pillows, eyes slipping shut.

An indeterminable amount of time later, he’s roused by the sound of a door sliding open and then just as quickly shut, and his former padawan toeing off his boots in their entry way.

Without his conscious thought, he makes a half-hearted noise of protest when Anakin flips on the light.

“Oh!” His former padawan says, sounding startled but almost as if he’s too exhausted to be fully startled. His face appears over the couch, hair falling down over his face as he blinks at him. “Obi-Wan! Sorry, were you sleeping?” Obi-Wan blinks in response. He couldn’t be more clearly trying to sleep.

“Right,” Anakin says. “Sorry. I’ll just—” He peters off, brow furrowing as he takes in Obi-Wan’s position on the couch. “You should be in bed,” he says. “Why—what are you watching?”

Obi-Wan isn’t watching anything, but he looks at the holo projector at the same time Anakin does.

“An Afternoon Alderaanian Affar?” Anakin asks, which is good because Obi-Wan had no idea what this show was called, but of course it would only take a few seconds before Anakin recognized it. “I love An Afternoon Alederaanian Affair. Are you—this is the third season. You’re watching it without me? You’ve always said it was stupid.”

“That’s probably why I fell asleep,” Obi-Wan says, even though he’s slowly realizing that’s not why he settled on the show at all. 

It’d—it’d reminded him of Anakin.

“Are you going to keep watching it?” Anakin asks, tucking his hair behind his ear. He looks hopeful. “Can I—I mean, do you want company?”

Obi-Wan looks at him, sitting up slightly to do so. His clothes are mussed, his hair is a wreck, and he smells overpoweringly like lilacs.

It’s very, very clear where Anakin has been, and Obi-Wan curses at himself for—for caring so much. For even noticing in the first place. Of course Anakin spent the night with his wife. That’s his duty as a husband.

“I—” but the truth is, Obi-Wan would thoroughly enjoy Anakin’s company. More than that, he wants his company, wants to let him onto the sofa, wants—more dangerously, even—to curl him into his arms instead of holding onto the throw pillow, fall asleep like that instead with Anakin’s back pressed against his chest and his hand resting over his heart so he can feel every beat.

But Sheari has lectured them—many, many times—about the importance of being honest with each other, of clearly communicating their own wants and boundaries.

So instead of resigning himself to the undesirable in order to have what he wants more, he shakes his head slightly. 

When Anakin droops in front of him, hope burning outt like a candle stifled, Obi-Wan is quick to nod his head. “I mean, yes, I would love that,” he says. “But ah.”

The smell of lilac burns his nose and forces the request past his lips.

“I had a shower late last night, and you’re—coming in from traveling. You—could you shower as well? I—would feel more comfortable.”

These seem to be the perfect words, because Anakin is nodding before he can say anything else. “Yeah, of course,” he says enthusiastically. “Let me shower and change, and we can start this episode over.”

Obi-Wan tactfully doesn’t mention that for him to understand anything about this show at all, they may need to start from the very first episode. 

It feels too much like a victory to watch Anakin stride through their quarters and into his room, and Obi-Wan would hate to have it taken away.

Even if he’s not quite sure he could verbalize what he’s won, should he be asked. Luckily, Anakin would never think to ask, and their next session with Sheari is a week into the future.