#like. jokes on them.

[dragonfruitsoup]

temari, who gives so much of her life to her family, to her village. the girl's been aging at an exponential rate since she was 6 (as most nin do, but shhh). temari, battle-worn and bruised and as resilient and proud as ever, being shoved into the kazekage's office. kankuro, (alive. alive.), leaning against the closed door and gaara, (alive. alive.), propped up in his fancy little chair at his fancy little desk with his fancy little hat hanging off the hook behind him. a formal little slip of paper, an ultimatum.

the 'we don't care if you go spend it with your boyfriend. ('my what!!?') or go find a beach house along the coast somewhere. but you're not stepping a single toe in this village for the next year.'

they give her a week to pack, and the second swiftest messenger bird suna has, and the reminder that all the major villages have been informed that any expense of hers is to be billed to suna. (amazing what a united front can do...)

temari, stepping out of her home for the first time without her brothers or backup or a mission. she has her fan, of course. she has her headband, of course. she has her tiny gourd of sand from the youngest and a little wooden weasle cause kankuro is, in fact, a massive dork. she has a new scarf from baki and sandals from ebizo and a very pretty set of kunai from her team, just in case.

temari, who looks east, toward konoha, a familiar trip at this point, but catches a caravan moving south. sits along the shoreline for three months, horrified at so much water. learns to swim through a riptide the hard way. aides the fishermen pulling in nets and fixing their sails and teaching the young ones to navigate by star because some things are constant.

packs herself up and heads north when the weather gets cool. passes through the land of rain and earth to get to the land of iron. learns how to pack snow to insulate and how to make the thickest stews. spends two months picking up swords and getting a crash course in smithing.

she writes letters every three days. keeps them bundled together until the hawk swoops back with its latest delivery. the ache of being without her brothers has shifted, no longer a gaping wound. still hurts, of course. she still turns to ask kank something or point out a plant to gaara, but it happens less frequent. her letters look less and less cohesive and more like notes stitched together as the months wear on. (she keeps a letter tucked between the folds of her shirt, just below her left shoulder. the one where the ink is smudged and splattered, where you can tell the boys were fighting for the pen before the other could fill up the space. curls her hand over it while whispering prayers to the stars. she will die before she admits this to anyone.)

she writes occasionally to baki and ebizo and her team. she starts writing to shikamaru when kank starts ragging on her ('your sad, pathetic boyfriend came looking for you and moped around the village for a week before going home with his tail between his legs. it was hilarious. i definitely took a photo for you. can't believe you dumped him already. what, find someone cuter in your travels? -k' 'shikamaru asked about you while he was here. he was here for standard meetings, don't listen to kank. be safe. -g' she does, in fact, keep the picture kank sent in with the rest of her letters. it's shikamaru, leaning against a railing, head tilted back, smoke curling from his mouth. he's backlit by lantern and she has to press a hand against her chest to quell the stuttering of her heart.)

she stumbles through the gates of konoha two weeks before fall truly hits, the leaves on the cusp of change. her pack's frayed, busting at the seam in one spot. she's come up from the coast, mouth blistered from fruit that apparently she's mildly allergic to, who knew. her hair is long, longer still, summer sun bleached and braided over and twisted up to keep off her neck. probably the longest it's ever been in her life. (she's four seconds from chopping it off herself. holds out solely to take a picture for kank, because she knows he'll want one). seeks out chouji first, her favorite and she makes that no secret.

she shares a whole notebook with ino over plants she's seen. talks weapons with tenten and parts with a small dagger she helped temper. gets drunk and shit-talks with kiba & naru.

she spends a whole day cleaning and talking to the stones of asuma and shikaku. the private ones, tucked into the nara land. she made her rounds to the public graves earlier when she arrived, paid her respects to those that served in the war. but these. these she spends the extra time to honor.

meets the downright horrifying deer the nara are so proud of. learns how to tend the woods and the deer alike. temari decides, that while she understands what an absolute honor this is, she would be okay with never stepping foot in there again, thanks. the deer know things. they see things. (she'd never tell shikamaru, but staring into their eyes is not unlike being on the business end of shukaku's gaze.)

it snows the day she leaves. soft and slow and glittering while she presses a kiss just below the corner of shikamaru's eye outside the gate. her bag's been replaced and her sandals repaired and she's eager to get home to her brothers.

and the homecoming is spectacular. the sun, already hazy and stuttered as it breaks the horizon, lights up the walls. turns them into a crown of brass and copper and gold for half a moment. a blink-and-you'll-miss-it. catches all the little specks of rock and sand that refract from the edges. and oh, oh. she'd been taking her time, meandering her way back on an unfamiliar route. but her heart stops in time with that blink and oh.

she doesn't know when she started running, but the ground rises up to meet her.

the unforgiving earth slides and shifts and throws her towards the silhouettes, parasols in bright red and purple like halos, perfect circles behind them that burn with the sunrise.

the sand in the gourd at her waist hums. like it knows. like it's trying to reach its own brethren, matching grains in matching gourds.

the backpack gets dropped and so do the parasols and the impact makes her teeth clack and gaara wheeze and kankuro, the ass, just topples them back, letting the sand plume up around them as they bump their heads.

[marypsue]

Keep seeing that post where OP starts like 'Thinking about...grieving the undead' and then adds on about like. Real life situations where people have not died but have left your life and you would have reason to grieve them.

All respect, that's an important concept, but that is not what I am thinking about when I read 'grieving the undead'.

[roninkairi]

You can only reblog this today.*

*PLEASE READ THE TAGS

[inkskinned]

it's been said before and i'm sure said better than i can phrase it. but really, really - if you like making "i'm going to kill myself" jokes, please try switching to being ironically conceited instead.

anytime something goes wrong, say things like "ah well at least i'm beautiful and charming and everyone loves me." when you forget something, try "my big huge brain is so smart and thinking about too many other very big wizardly thoughts you wouldn't even understand." when you're frustrated by one of your symptoms, start talking like you're in My Immortal. "Life has come for me but my eyes are beautiful pools of gorgeous fire and my hair is amazing. I stuck my middle finger up at life and told it to fuck off and it did."

just... try it for a month or two. try saying the most absurdly self-congratulatory shit you can think of.

i know it's tempting to make suicide or self-harm jokes. and for me at least, a decade ago (!) when someone suggested i stop making those kinds of jokes, i was kind of at a loss for what to replace them with. i wanted to make light of these moments, but genuinely (at the time) my first thought really was suicidal ideation. there was a part of me that even felt like ... i was kind of "making light" of that voice. that if i could say i want to die lol, it would help take the sting out of that genuine (albeit passive) desire. like i could turn my illness into a joke.

when i started complimenting myself instead, it felt awkward and stupid. it felt really, really ironic. what i was actually saying was nobody would ever think this stuff about me, that's what makes it so fucking funny.

but. the effect was immediate. first thing i noticed was the people around me. when i dropped a glass and said ah my skin is too beautiful and sleek the glass has swooned and broken for me, other people were suddenly overjoyed to jump in with the joke. rather than making an awkward moment, we'd both start cracking up. ah princess sleek hands, i've heard of you.

i was 19. i hadn't noticed i'd been making others tense when i said i want it all to end. i know now that it's incredibly hard to know how to walk that moment - do you talk to them about your concern? do you potentially make them uncomfortable by asking if they're okay? do you ignore the situation? do you help them pick up the glass, or do they need to do it by themselves? are they genuinely made suicidal over this small moment? and most importantly, how do you - without professional training or supplies - actually help?

most people want to help you pick up the glass in your life, they just have no fucking idea how to do it. they don't want to make anything worse. they don't want to make assumptions about you. they love you, they're scared for you - and being scared makes people kind of freeze up. it's not because they don't love you. it's because they do.

now when something bad happens, my first thought is how can i make a stupid joke about this. it isn't my brain saying you're a dumb fucking bitch. i spend more time laughing. i spend more time being gentle with myself. i spend more time feeling good.

and the thing is - what's kind of funny - is that you'd be surprised by how many people agree with you. the first time i said i'm too pretty to understand that, someone else said to be fair you're the prettiest person in this room. i promise - you really don't know how kindly your friends see you. but they love you for a reason. they sort of reverse-velveteen-rabbit you. your weird and ugly spots fade away and you just become... the love they want to give you.

go love yourself ironically. the worst thing that happens is that you end up tricking your reflection into actually loving you.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The squad of all time has arrived on scene.

[raphaerolo]

Zack and Cody (2005)

[sadclowncentral]

i absolutely love teenagers. i told a group of them about my work and asked them what their demands for the united nations would be and they debated among themselves and told me to "tell them to make doner kebab three euros again". yeah man i'll ask

[adobe-outdesign]

there was a period of time during the early days of Neopets wherein they would redesign an older pet. in order to pick a redesign they'd offer a poll with a few different options, like this:

but during 2001—2004 they would do polls with several completely normal, similar-looking options and then one (1) just completely messed up option that they never acknowledged or explained

my personal favorite was the Gelert one

[loriache]

"I've been waiting for ages for somebody to unmask them."

This moment tends to elicit negative reactions in a first read through, and I've got some opinions about why where Kabru is coming from here actually makes a lot of logical sense. So I thought I'd elaborate on that.

I think people hear this and go, "He thinks they must be hiding something because they gave money to someone? What a cynic." Or "he dislikes them because they did charity?? What's wrong with this guy!". And obviously, a lot, a lot is wrong with him. But I think this makes more sense than it seems at first glance! What people evaluating this judgement miss is why Kabru is paying attention to Laios and co to begin with.

Kabru knows of the Touden siblings because (he's a little bit of a stalker-) he is keeping an eye on all the relevant parties in events developing on the island, in order to be able to guide them to his preferred outcome. This includes adventurers because they are the ones actually exploring the dungeon! He's well aware that something as minor as internal tensions between party members could be key to the historical events that are developing. (He would love the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand.)

His desired outcome is that whatever the rewards are of breaking the dungeon's curse, whether that's kingship or the ancient elven secrets of dungeons, are claimed by:

A) a short lived person

B) Someone who will be a good, effective leader and/or use those secrets and the power they carry wisely, with foresight, and to establish a political bloc for short lived people.

The person he can best trust to do this is, of course, himself. But due to his PTSD regarding dungeons and monsters, he's not able to develop the necessary skills to conquer the dungeon. Once he realises this, he starts looking for someone else who he can support to that end.

But most of the adventurers don't have any intentions of conquering the dungeon, don't have the skills, or are unsuitable in other ways. In fact, it seems like some potentially suitable people are the Toudens. There are a lot of good rumours about them going around - they actually seem to have a very positive reputation! That's what Kabru means when he says "unmask".

So when Kabru is observing something like them giving money to an old comrade from their gold-peeling days, he doesn't consider it a problem because "they're giving money to this person who doesn't actually need it" or because they must have some dark secret if they act superficially nice. I think he actually understands this situation and what it implies about Laios (in particular) perfectly well.

Laios and Falin gave money to an old comrade who got injured and couldn't work. That person then healed up but kept taking their money. Then he used the money to start smuggling illicit goods to the island.

The key is that for Kabru, the problem here is the same as with the corpse retrievers - people using the dungeon's resources to fuel dangerous, selfish, or violent pursuits cause problems for the island, attract more criminals and people with motives other than breaking the curse, and increase the chances of the whole situation ending in tragedy.

Kabru is willing to work with the Shadow Lord of the island if it gets him to his goal - he isn't scrupulous - but the criminal element of the island increasing is something he sees as a major issue.

Also, when you're evaluating someone as a candidate for power, riches, secrets, potentially kingship - then being curious about how the money you give to people is going to be used is kind of a relevant trait!

Interpersonally, Kabru's actually very easygoing - I mean, Mickbell isn't exactly an upstanding guy, is he! But Kabru likes him and they get along well. These traits wouldn't be a problem at all in a friend, or a comrade, or someone Kabru was confident he could use. But he can't get a handle on Laios, and Laios is someone who has the potential to be a major player!

On Laios' end, this is the same as with the marriage seeker who joined their party. She kept asking for things and he gave them to her, because he tries to be nice to others. He even gives her money! It's the exact same thing.

That's fine, but it became a problem because he basically wasn't interested in her motives, didn't notice she was trying to manipulate him, and it also didn't occur to him that the other party members would notice or be affected. We can assume the situation with the gold peeler is the same. When Kabru says that "It's not that they're bad people, they just aren't interested in humans," he isn't wrong.

The extent to which this is true of Laios is linked to his autism imo, (because it isn't just disinterest - he genuinely isn't able to notice nonverbal cues that people are lying to him or have ulterior motives) but to a greater or lesser extent I think it's a very common trait. Most people aren't actually that interested in other people who aren't close to them. Kabru is the weird one here. It isn't an issue except as a leader - which is why we see an immediate comparison to the Island's Lord, because that's how Kabru is evaluating them.

And disinterest in/lack of ability with people to the extent Laios exhibits it, it does, actually, make him a worse leader... it's just that as we see in the story, people can help him out. The rest of the party tell him the marriage seeker is taking advantage of him so he tells her he can't give her special treatment anymore. They're pissed and it's a crisis point - he couldn't have recovered their trust without Marcille and Falin - but that's exactly the point. With Marcille and Falin, he was able to recover their trust.

And he has other good traits that make up for it, such as his intelligence, strategic knowledge, open-mindedness and sense of fairplay.

Kabru doesn't disqualify Laios as a candidate based on what he sees about him from afar, though - he still tries very hard to get close to him, obviously hoping that if he manages he can steer Laios to defeat the dungeon and make up for his lack of people-skills in the aftermath. (Which... he does eventually achieve that goal!) He completely fails until the events of the story, so... definitely I think "They just aren't interested in humans" could also partially be a stung reaction to Laios' complete disinterest in him.

Anyway, that's my read on what exactly Kabru's "issue" with Laios is. Obviously, once he does find out what Laios' true nature is like - about his love for monsters - he develops an entirely new set of fears about Laios' priorities. But since Laios kept that a secret until the start of the story, he has no idea of that yet.

Given all that, I think it's interesting that he says that he doesn't think that the Toudens are suitable to defeat the dungeon, and that he's hoping they'll turn out to be the thieves. As some of his few potential candidates, people who he thinks may play a big role in the island's future, you'd think he'd hope they would be good people!

I suppose it's better, in his eyes, because it means that he's involved in something "interesting". They haven't just had their stuff stolen by regular criminals (boring, puts them further away from his goal) - they've been caught up in the beginning stages of "a historic event". The desperate and dwindling group forgetting morals in their quest to retrieve their lost comrade probably appeals to his sense of melodrama. Because he also just... loves drama.

Despite it being "uglier than anything he was expecting", he still pursues Laios as the person he wants to conquer the dungeon pretty much as soon as it becomes clear that he won't be able to do it himself and they are out of time. That's because... well, to be fair, there aren't any other options. And he fits standard A: he's short-lived!

and Kabru still hopes he can fit standard B, too, and be persuaded to use the power he wins for good. No matter how many nightmares he has about Laios, or whether he thinks about killing him. He doubts him, but ultimately he puts his faith in him and seems happy after the manga's ending that he made the right decision.

[godmademewithoutarms]

'Brother in arms' oh they were in each other's arms alright

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

you’re borrowing your boyfriend!jason todd’s…

hoodie

it’s big, it’s warm, and it smells like your big warm boyfriend. of course you stole it. luckily jason runs hot..or that’s what he tells you at least. the man gets cold too, but he’d never tell you that. not when you look so cozy in his sweatshirt.

sweats

your favorite thing of his to match with his hoodie. his sweatpants are super warm, super soft, and super baggy. meant for ultimate comfort. jason loves it when you go full out sweatsuit in his clothes. like, loves it. you’re like his own personal teddy bear to hold on to while he falls asleep. who needs sweats when he has you to keep him warm..in his.

t shirt

sometimes, when the weather’s warmer, you’ll steal one of jason’s shirts to thrown on over a pair of panties. you’re oblivious to the fact that this combination makes jason go absolutely buck wild. somehow you’ve never made the connection. but more than once he’s found you sprawled across the couch, watching tv, and ended up going down on you. his head nestled between your thighs as you grip his raven locks. his hands are fisted into the loose fabric of his shirt that you’re wearing. he’s not satisfied until your legs are shaking, your moans intermingling with the wet, borderline pornographic, sounds that he’s creating with his mouth on your clit. he never lets you get him back either, even though you know he was grinding his crotch against the couch, chasing that sweet friction and release along with you. but he always just sits you atop his lap after, kissing your cheek as he brushes your hair out of your face. grips your thigh as he makes a comment about the show playing, your panties long forgotten on the floor.

underwear

you never get very far wearing a pair of your boyfriend’s boxers. for one, they’re pretty loose on you, so you have to roll the waistband a couple times, which just gives jason a prime view of your ass. they also just make it so easy for him to get his hand down the front, his strong fingers expertly finding your clit like he’s memorized a map of your body. which, in some ways, he has. it’s not long before you’ve come, once, twice, almost a third time, and he’s pulling his own boxers off to free his stiff cock. it points out, the tip leaking, and you’re opening your legs wider without even realizing it. he grabs your waist, sliding you closer to the edge of the bed, making sure you’re ready before he slides in, burying himself in you. he bottoms out, and you’re throwing your head back, a third orgasm threatening to crest as he starts up a rhythm. the muscles of his stomach ripple as he thrusts in and out. one of his hands is on your waist, the other slowly snaking its way back down to your clit. your toes curl at the feel of his calloused thumb rubbing circles on that sensitive bundle of nerves. he’s groaning, low in his throat, at the way you look on his cock. it never gets old for him, ever. the way your cheeks flush, how adorable your blown out pupils are when you look up at him. your wet lashes, your messy hair. your entrance clenches around his cock as you come a third time, your hands gripping the bed sheets. jason comes along with you, groaning loudly as he paints your insides with white ropes of cum. he pulls out, wetting a washcloth in the bathroom. the wet, warm fabric feels like heaven against your sensitive folds, your boyfriend wiping away the mixture of fluids between your legs. you feel pleasantly boneless, sinking into the pillows at the head of the bed. your boyfriend cleans himself up after, settling into bed next to you. jason wraps his strong arms around you, and it’s better than any clothes you might steal. but what you don’t know, is that he’d let you steal his clothes anytime.

[soranker]

DEEP💥SPACE💥PLANET💥FUTURE💥GUN💥ACTION❗️

[harrowedsoup]

I refuse to change my headcanon that most of the other people at Canaan House probably thought Gideon was Harrow’s pretty boy toy until she showed them she could actually fight because she acted exactly nothing like a real Cav in anyway. A teenage ruler shows up with a hot butch that clearly isn’t trained to be a ninth Cav or even a normal-ish one? Come on. They probably thought griddlehark were over compensating trying to hide by staying away from each other. 

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Michael refuses to be gaslit on “THE BITE OF 83”

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Thanks for listening to my sad backstory. Anyway, here's Wonderwall.

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[nyancrimew]

So people once were calling me a terf, persecuting me just because I held some different opinion. After taking a break from social media, I've did some thinking, and I've came to accept this label as a part of who I am. I identify, inside and out, within the fibers if my soul, as a terf, and anyone who objects to this is being criticalphobic. After a while though, being so enshrined with terfness started exposing to me the many issues and hypocrisies terfs have, which I started rejecting. I just remembered I left my pizza in the oven, its burning uh

Eventually I realized that by rejecting trans people from society, I was arbitrarily drawing a line between what a person participating in society could be, completely discounting all the possible ways our biology I've so long revered could betray the labels our ancestors placed on ourselves. I stopped excluding trans people and started exclusively rejecting normal feminists, making me a ferf, until I walked outside and accidently talked to a guy and found they were normal. With no one familiar to belong to, I gave in and joined feminists and became a rfet.

Anyways do you want to hear about the time I almost drowned in a public water fountain

and the oscar for "best supporting anonymous bait" goes to....... whatever the fuck this is