#it just really mind boggles me

[stagefoureddiediaz]

I keep coming back to the fact that Eddie and Chris were playing boggle - both in Bucks loft and in the Diaz house in ep 1. Because boggle is about finding the words in a mass of letters - the answers are in plain sight- literally staring you straight in the face.

Eddie is the one who wins the game - because he is the one who needs to find the answers, not Chris - and it suggests he will in fact figure out what’s been in plain sight all along.

But I love the idea that Chris does have some of the same answers as Eddie. Not all of the same answers and he’ll perhaps have found some different words to Eddie, because they both ultimately want/need different things from their respective relationships with Buck, but that there is cross over in those wants and needs.

[exaltior-a]

Every day I try not to be a hater to people in fandom who completely fall for a characters facade or false perception of themselves. Like girl the narrative device tricked you.

[azi-muthal]

pro-ai artists are the dumbest people i swear to god. and i'm talking about actual artists here, not the "ai artists" who suddenly cropped up last year, but people with skills who decided that using an exploitative tool built on the labour of their peers is okay if it means they get ahead- because they're able to put out paintings or commissions faster or whatever. like, you might be able to scam a few people for a short while, but this tech is gonna kill your income too eventually if you don't stand in solidarity now 🙃

[hariible]

horses

[jtownraindancer]

figuring out I'm agender was such a revelation because there was just no more confusion anymore. no more wondering why I related more to the male characters, why I always felt as equally comfortable in "guys" and "girls" clothes, why I never really understood the whole binary in itself. I always existed outside of it, always thought the whole thing was overrated and dumb.

now, it's just so freeing because I see myself in the mirror, and I'm the man I wanted to be. I'm the woman I wanted to be. I'm both. I'm neither!

Sorry its late and I'm just really euphoric right now because so many moments of my past finally make so much sense, and I wish I could go back and give that kid some reassurance that they weren't wrong for any of it.

I'm ace, I'm aro, I'm agender, and I'm ecstatic because I finally feel like I'm meeting the real me.

Love & Light y'all

[forcebookish]

i don't think i wanna read any more only friends meta for the rest of my life

[vampiricsheep]

gd I know I've said it before but the way the grawl are written in gw2 are written really makes my skin crawl. There are plenty of other places examples of anti-indigenous tropes used in the game but the grawl are a particularly egregious collection stacked on top of each other and I feel like it should take less than 2 seconds to notice that

[gaylornation]

what's actually bonkers to me is that I found out they had broken up for the final time literally the day before Lover dropped and I couldn't say shit... now here we are almost 4 years later and Karlie showed up to her show. like my mind has not fully comprehended it yet lol

[orcelito]

I think I cried harder today over my dad's jackets than I did at his deathbed. That was a miserable time of course, a memory that will likely be seared into my brain until I die, but I cried... I think a normal amount, all things considered. More than I ever usually do of course, but I typically don't cry At All. All this free crying is certainly surreal.

The jackets, though. I was put in charge of doing his laundry, because we don't want to pack up dirty clothes. I was expecting it to be unpleasant bc my dad's dirty clothes - gross. But really, it was much more unpleasant in that... those were his. It felt wrong to touch them. Felt wrong to treat his jackets as gross. Because they were just his jackets. They weren't even in the hamper. And then I was remembering him wearing them, and then I was crying. Again. And again. Weeping over these damn jackets.

Then I found a shirt on his bed that still smelled like him. It smelled like a Hug From Dad. And that set me off crying even harder.

In total, I think I cried like 6 times within 40 minutes. It took me that long to finish sorting the damn clothes bc I just. Was a wreck. Like, what are you supposed to do when you're living life like normal, vaguely hopeful bc you're taking steps to secure your own happiness, and then 4 days later you're sorting your dad's laundry because he fucking died. Suddenly. Without a goodbye.

And you have to worry about his lack of a will (even under an ideal situation, only 2 heirs and no conflicts between us, probate's a fucking Bitch), and arranging the funeral, and prepping his obituary, and picking out pictures, and writing a speech bc you want to talk at his funeral, of Course you want to talk at his funeral, but even just thinking about anecdotes you could share has you crying yet again.

I've cried more times in the past 3 days than likely the entirety of last YEAR. And that's WITH my cat, and uncle, and family friend dying. Those all hurt, my uncle most of all, & I was real fucked up over it. But this? This was my Dad. Likely the person I'd have named 2nd closest to me in my life, second only to my sister. He wasn't perfect, but he did so much for me throughout my entire life. All he wanted was to raise us to be happy and independent. And he accomplished it, we're getting by without him, but we still wanted several more decades with him. He was only 57. We should've gotten several more decades with him.

But here we are now. Playing investigators to his life, digging into all his shit, trying to find documents and take inventory of all his things, and learning Many things about him in the process. In his lockbox of sensitive documents, like his SSN and birth certificate and all that stuff, we found an old letter. About a decade old now, written in my hand. Right at the very top, we found that he'd kept the letter I wrote to him telling him frankly about my struggles and the things I wanted him to do better. He kept it. He tried to take it to heart. He looked at it again, sometime more recently than all the rest of the documents. That was on top.

His love for us is evident everywhere. The pictures he has hanging up all over the place, majority of them with us in them. The old fathers day cards placed on display in his bedroom bookshelf. The gifts we gave him, even stupid little knick knacks, placed around his apartment with pride. I wish we'd taken more videos of him. I don't want to forget the sound of his voice. I don't want to forget his smell either, the smell of a Hug From Dad, but I still tossed that shirt into the wash even though it felt like saying yet another goodbye.

It's the suddenness that hurts the most, I think. We were planning on having him help me finally get my license this year. My final words to him, the last thing he would've seen from me, were messages asking up on whether he'd called his car insurance company to make sure there wouldn't be problems. I should've called him more. I don't know if I'm going to learn from this.

I cut my 2 weeks off early to have time to grieve and to work on things for the funeral and settling the estate. The last thing I'd wanna do right now is selling fucking bubble tea in a job I already decided to leave. So here I am without a job, though with potentially two life insurance policy payouts to come. Inheriting half his 401k. Inheriting couches, knickknacks, keepsakes, paintings, art pieces, maybe even his guitar and other furniture if we can figure out what to do about space (I don't have room for this furniture, I don't know if I even have room for the couches, but God do I want to keep so much of this furniture). It has me even considering keeping one of his guns, just one. A tiny little revolver, it sits so comfortably in my hand. I don't even want to use it for anything. I just want to have it, keep it stored in a drawer with its ammo kept separate. I don't like guns, but this is a part of him. He loved collecting guns. He was about as responsible with them as someone can be, keeping them locked in a lockbox and impressing upon his children the importance of gun safety (I've known the basic gun safety rules ever since I was a little kid. Of course, of course, of course.) It reminds me of him. It's horrifically easy to have a gun in Indiana. I apparently don't even need a permit to carry anymore. (I have no intention to ever carry this in public.)

It's all a cycle. Business, grief, thoughts about my future. Round and round, like the most nauseating carousel in existence. I don't know how I'm still so functional. My skills with compartmentalization have been my lifesaver.

And im just thinking about the story my dad's best friend shared today. About a friend of theirs who lost her father. She reached out after hearing about my dad to share his words with her: "it's okay to grieve, but don't make his death your life".

He explicitly referenced himself in this, saying if he were to die suddenly that he wouldn't want us to define ourselves by it. Grief is expected, but he wants us to be able to move on. He's always wanted us to establish ourselves and make ourselves happy. He wouldn't want to be a weight holding us back from that.

So every time I start to feel guilty for thinking about having nicer furniture or using his life insurance payout to fund the rest of my college, I remind myself of that. Thinking about the material isn't a bad thing. I'm only human. And in the end, he'd Want me to be thinking about it. He never intended to die, certainly not without warning like this, so he would've only encouraged me being pragmatic about it all.

He only ever wanted us to be happy. So I need to do what I can to live up to that.

I love him. I miss him already.

[hollowsart]

I still can't get over how much of a dirty scam the pricing is for Pokemon Masters. Like..

14,000 gems for 80 dollars? excuse me? who the crap is wasting their money like that on a game that barely has any real function as a game?

it's NOT worth it. AT ALL. you're not even fully guaranteed to get whatever character(s) you're aiming for with it.

if you want to do those 2 1-limit paid-only gems sync scouts they have rn you've have to pay $80 for the 10,000 you'll need since they're 5000 gems each. sure it sounds like a lot you're getting, but man. I don't think it's worth it.

I refuse to give this game my money. idk how people fall into this gacha scam. please save your money for something that's actually more useful and important.

[the-cosmos-withinus]

Doest mine enjoyment of this man bother thee?

Just a dumb meme I made for a private laugh with my sister, but in light of recent events I decided to share. Sorta Shadow Puppets AU based but also general enough just fun for all Belos enjoyers

Here, have another one, on the house

[prodogg]

"The avatar should take Azula’s bending because that somehow makes her good and healthy"

No, thanks

[todayisafridaynight]

weird detail #98 masato's necklace is lower than everyone else's. for whatever reason.

[irregularbillcipher]

most patients i work with are seniors and i had a patient the other day say "this is my first time in the hospital!" despite being like 70-80 something, and every time a patient says something like that it sorta knocks me on my ass. like it's unfathomable to me

[pankomako]

i bet you could make like a chart of which content creators know each other and what sorta friend groups/circles they're part of and it would just be a HUGE web with a LOT of overlap between groups and it'd be SO messy with just the sheer amount of friendships between creators

[amethysttribble]

I say this in earnest and as kindly as I can, but how has it become so common in fanfiction circles that people don’t know how to use dialogue tags correctly and that they require commas, not periods, that people who are /actively giving advice/ about fic formatting are making this mistake?