#my entertainment for the evening lol

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

My dad just called, firmly expecting me to side with him on some disagreement he was having with my brother.

The topic?

Listening to an audiobook isn't reading because you don't use your eyes.

*facepalm*

My brother, who is reading audiobooks, was very happy to have my support 😂

[b4kuch1n]

polymer broadcast signal hijack

[wyvernity]

sss day my favorite national holiday WOOOOHHHH

bonus

[beemot]

[ray × gale]

[miusato]

This is why I shouldn't be near any media because I will find a way to put my ship into different clothes and possibly in different au 😤😤😤

[honeydots]

did a redraw that was going around on twitter a while back~ ♥♥

og by _K0TTERl_ from their manga veil!!

[todayisafridaynight]

mobie might

[hiding-in-the-vault]

isnt this whole wilbur thing a huge warning sign against getting too attached to ccs, because we can never truly know them? why are we celebrating a few fans putting /150/ dollars + whatever the commission fee for the artist was into a birthday present for a guy who just.. doesnt know them? its not like merch or supporting a creator, its literally money in the wind. between this and merch dropping like clockwork but sapnap being the only one actually doing content (and hes clearly just doing it for the kick quota.. sorry but the streams are so lackluster), im getting really disillusioned with the dream team. theyre literally just coasted by because of a hyperdedicated fanbase they dont really seem to give a shit about. people talk about how amazing and kind they are but are they really? we dont know. why are we monetarily supporting millionaires its literally just charity but for rich people at this point, they dont provide any value in exchange. i think people should really consider why theyd rather drop ~180 dollars on a billboard for a rando instead of charity or buying something they want or need. sorry idk i just feel fed up with how much time and money and love i poured into these guys and in response were getting nothing. sapnap didnt even bother to denounce the abuser he used to interact with. i could have donated and actually helped someone instead of buying a fucking hoodie i cant even wear to school because id get bullied.

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with a little wake up call. They are just some guys that stream and make videos. You’d think the last few Situations™ would teach people to simply not put cc’s on pedestals and expect perfection from them. But you must realize that if you’re going to argue against people giving cc’s money, then you need to go all the way back to every single sub and donation they’ve gotten through twitch as well. It’s always been a luxury some choose to do because they get something out of it. They were never forced or tricked into doing it. And I don’t know how the Sapnap billboard was funded, but I donated to the George b-day billboard. Gave up $5 because I thought it was a fun community idea, and it did not impact my ability to donate or buy things I needed. It doesn’t need to be any more complicated than that. It’s not a streamer's fault that you chose to spend money on them instead of donating.

If you’re upset by the lack of content, then entertain yourself with something else. People have been saying that for ages. If you think their intention is to continue promising content and never delivering just to squeeze money out of fans, then leave. I personally don’t believe that.

Dream believes he does owe us content, but we don’t get to decide when it comes. And you don’t have to give them a dime for it.

[fortyfive-forty]

grabbing fistfuls of my own hair rocking back and forth repeating to myself like some kind of fucked up wizardly enchantment you should care about womens sports because its literally the same fucking sport why do i have to bend over backwards to convince you to care about womens sports like at an abstract level it is the exact same fucking thing and yet you cannot bear to possibly watch it unless you think the women are hot or there is some sort of social gain why is it so hard for you to care about womens sports when they are literally doing all of it better than the men

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Shadow Day 8

Majora('s Mask)

*throws bouquet of roses* For the Time lovers.

Also my bias is probably coming through really strongly right now, but I'm not well rested enough to care plus I've been playing Majora's Mask a lot again this month, it's as important to me as Twilight Princess so this is kind of my love letter to it and Time and my excuse to explore the concept of Majora and the Fierce Deity and divinity in LoZ, though that's an essay for another day lol (/j)

As always can be read as romantic or platonic depending on your preferences, Reader is gender neutral and this is definitely self indulgent so it can be read in or outside of an LU context, most of the references to the LU names are for simplicity and to give a rough idea of why Reader has some stuff they do. Makes it easier to clarify lol, though as I've been hit by yet another storm the Linktober prompt will be for tomorrow, I'm basically picking a god and praying this actually posts X_X

TW(?):

Don't think there's any warnings besides MJM's typical body horror really, and very graphic descriptions and Majora in general.

Even after so, so long, so much so it feels like a lifetime ago, Termina still stuck with you and Time.

The thing about being in a timeloop that went on for who knows how long and whose failure to reset it would be total destruction to so many good different people, is that you quickly learn some habits to try and maximize as many successes as possible, how Time (Mask, then, after the living nightmare of Termina, during the War of Ages, still Link though) quickly learned the location of each enemy he could, how you learned to call out the best way to quickly assess and take down an enemy as quickly as possible, how you both learned to watch each other’s backs and to care for the people and Termina to the point Link went from just a warrior to a healer, granted the trust of holding the crystalization of the hopes and dreams of the people of Termina that, even if they couldn’t remember it, wanted the cycle to end, wanted to hunt the threat to reality itself and purge it from the world. To bite down onto it’s neck and feel the thrill and glee and cutting down such an opponent.

Most importantly, after bleeding, crying, sweating and toiling against the unrelenting flow of time and insanity all brought upon by a lonely child being left alone and manipulated to commit heinous acts as ‘pranks’. It taught you and Time the importance of contingency plans, and about always, always being prepared for any and all situations, unlikely as they could be. Of taking through note of even the smallest detail that caught your eyes at a glance.

‘To defeat an abomination, you need one of two things: A deity, or a monster.’, you think cynically to yourself, stepping over Time’s fallen form as Warriors bolted over with blizzard forged fury in his cold, calculated movements to defend him in your stead as you called Hyrule over, the young man quickly starting to heal your Hero as you glare down at the disgusting stain on reality engaging Twilight and Wild all at once, gleeful at having watched the person you adored the most fall, bringing out the ultimate contingency from your cloak, you hadn’t even told him about it, because you prayed you’d never need to resort to this, ‘… Forgive me, Link. The first option isn’t doable here.’

Time was your everything, you knew how his story ended, with so much grief until he finally met Twilight again. You tried, you really did, to not allow yourself to love him but it was impossible because he was Link, the man who longed for adventure ever since he was young, embodying the freedom of the forest of life and death that made up the whole of Faron Woods and the Lost Woods and as steady as it’s moors, voice quiet and calm like a stream in the woods and with and with a smile to rival the warm sun and so, so heartbreakingly kind. Who protected and saved and healed people while slowly healing his own soul and who attempted to soothe his descendant’s pain the second he could even from beyond the grave.

And you’d be darned if you allowed anything to take him from you or the boys before his time without a fight. You couldn’t care less if he would eventually die as he was destined to in every timeline, it didn’t matter if it was futile, because he mattered, you loved him, and you’d keep him safe and happy for as long as you could.

It didn’t matter if one day tragedy will catch up to him, it mattered that he was loved while alive.

Even if you had to step on fire to make sure of it.

“Twilight, Wild. Step away.”, the edges of the spikes of the purple and crimson mask that haunted your nightmares as much as it did Time’s, it leered at you with it’s arsenic and pus eyes, picking apart at your weaknesses as it’s spikes dug into your hand as you tightened your grip to keep if from shaking. Tone falsely confident as you called to the Hero of Twilight and Wild to retreat.

(‘To defeat an abomination, you need a deity or a monster.’

The definition is awfully interchangeable, if you look at it.

You had found it, abandoned and in a dungeon Wind’s Era, not quite awake, but not asleep either. The eldritch hunger almost chocking you with it’s voracity, the darkness assessing, stalking, prowling and starving, it prodded at you but didn’t dig yet. It knew how to play the long game in it’s quest to stop feeling empty.

Funny thing is, so did you. You were a lot harder to break than the Skull Kid, would not break.

Majora wanted to cease, like how it had ceased before the Terminan Tribe ripped it from it’s slumber, taught it hunger, taught it cruelty, taught it how to manipulate and take amusement in consuming the wishes of mortals and their very souls only to never be satisfied. Had fueled it with wrath from being ripped from a lovely, endless dream of beautiful songs and a kind soul. To be torn from it’s fantasy and then left to rot.

You offered to grant it a proper rest. And so a deal was struck. Your one contingency if the situation was truly dire, in case you couldn’t get the Fierce Deity Mask instead -because you knew how Link was, he’d burn himself out until there was naught but ash. You refused to let it ever come to that, after his excruciating screams of pain had clawed an aching, hurtful place into your very soul-, and Majora was starving and desperate, a dangerous combination for any being but something you could use.

So be it, if to protect divinity you needed to become a monstrosity, a monster was what you’d be.

You’d keep him safe. And you knew that if the Fierce Deity put him down once, he could do it again in case you slipped. Between him and Sky you weren’t afraid at all of the risk.

Even if Time never forgave you for taking it.)

You smile bitterly, tearing up in spite of yourself as you see the second Time spots you and the cursed artifact in hand, eye wide, voice ripping from his throat in desperation, “I’m quite selfish, I’m sorry.”

His haunted expression cuts you deeper than any knife, as you knew it was an image that featured in many of your nightmares and his own. But you’re insatiable for his happiness, so you take the plunge.

“NO NO NO NO DON’T-“

You put on the mask, and you scream.

It’s like stepping on fire, a twisted, desperate tune, a note of discord, a belt of harmony and fury and most importantly, the mighty need to consume the one who had tried to take the one you loved away from you.

Defy death, defy entropy, defy chaos, defy flame and voracity.

You cling to your self control with a snarl, howling in defiance. Sinking your nails into the abyss’ throat and biting, tearing, holding, tasting rot and withered flowers and the writhing of shadows and the blood of distorted gluttonousdivinity on your tongue with savagery equal to the way the demon sinks it's spikes onto you. Chew on it’s tender, rotting flesh, quaff down the lukewarm pus of it’s heart and the rust of blood as it bites off your skin, stripping your mind into chunks as it nests into your ribs like the spikes of wild, dead roses when it finds your mind tougher to break and you BURN YOU ARE LIFE YOU ARE CHAOS AND YOU ARE DROWNING AND YOU ARE FLAME-

You move, and Majora’s laugh sounds like a scream and a song as reality howls.

Your bones, sinew, muscles, nerves, veins and teeth are reformed, the being pounces, dancing, swerving, whipping, cleaving, ripping and feeding into the monsters with putrid, revolting gusto. Whenever it’s attention even tries to waver towards the Heroes you sink your hold in harder, stubborn, you’re sure there’s blood dripping from your mouth beneath the mask, your eyes, your ears, as it reaches a crescendo of glee and pain. A human body isn’t meant to hold so much divinity at once, much less as wretched and horrific as Majora’s, but you don’t care, can’t care, when you’re holding onto yourself like a vice, refusing to give it even a single inch.

It doesn’t kill Dark Link, the bastard (the one who’d hurt Time, the one who would have finished him off if not for you and Warriors). But the screech the Shadow releases as it gets ripped to shreds and the ripple of it’s retreating form is enough to make you partially agree with Majora’s vicious, amused glee that it was satisfying. Even if the feeling of you allowing it to utilize your skin temporarily felt revolting and disgusting in a way it made you wish you were actually on fire, not just in so much pain in a metaphysical level that it sure rivaled being set on fire, frost burned and lightning struck all in one go.

All is still now, all is silent.

Now comes the difficult part.

'Are you quite sure?', whispers Majora, crooning like nails on chalkboards, and it’s spikes sink into you tighter when you grip the sides of it, teeth gritted as you start prying it out of your face, amused by your defiance, but no longer as hungry. You did allow it quite the meal, you bet nothing like fellow divinity tastes better to the being, like the taste of a forbidden fruit you were going to be unfortunately acquainted given you’re sure Dark Link’s blood is on your teeth.

'Yes.' comes your faint response, as your sanity frays in fragile threads, you think someone calls your name, but you are drowning, you are burning, and you know that if you don’t focus it will break you. And you’d be fully dead before you let that happen. If you’re going to die you’re going to die as a human.

'Tou are so, so cold… So cruel.' It drawls, the demon’s voice like the gnawing of rats, like maggots under you skin, you convulse, falling to your knees with a wounded keen and pull harder, you barely noticed someone falling by your side, frantically calling your name, but the mask’s eyes dim to an outsider’s perspective, resigned as it hums dreamily, 'I suppose that’s why The Divine Hunter cares for you so, why it’s vessel’s claim is so strong.'

Good, you were banking on it being sleepy, after gorging yourself on the enemy of your boys, Hylia’s gash and Din’s assets your mouth is going to taste putrid for months isn’t it?

Majora hisses, growls, howls and screeches, a brush against your essence as it retreats. Unwinding from every single cell of your body, distorting your atoms back to their proper shape. It still hurts, buy it’s more bearable, although you quickly notice you’re chocking on a different form of Divinity, more possessive, more wild but just as old and ferocious as it snaps at the retreating heels of the twisted, chaotic thorns. Making reality remember your own shape quicker at the cost of filling every crack consumed by the demon.

You swear that thing is smiling smugly at something else, teeth bared and very entertained, taking the suffering of the people of Termina and the cold revulsion in your veins with it as it retreats with it's cacaphony of voices to the shade, 'A shame. Feasting more would be delightful, but very well. We trust that though you hurt today, tomorrow you’ll make sure we head on our way.'

You don’t have the mind or heart to say anything else to it, for it grows silent as the spikes rip from the sides of your face, you bite of a tortured yell as the spikes rip off chunks of skin and flesh, clawing at the ground with, thankfully, soothing, perfectly regular fingers and nails, albeit cracked, you feel someone take their hand in yours, and you crack open an eye, carefully aware of the blood dripping down your face from the half removal of the heart shaped mask and the thrum of thunder replacing the cold in your veins with boiling, protective warmth.

Time.

“You shouldn’t be up already.”, you rasp, looking over his wounded form, healed by Hyrule, you shakily take your left hand to keep prying at the Majora’s Mask, only for him to take it gently in yours, you taste blood, the petrichor of the Lost Woods mist and pine on the back of your mouth, chasing the rot of Majora away.

“It’s nothing, we both know I’ve had worse.” He says, firmly shaking his head. His scarred eye is open, ivory like bone, the markings more vibrant and prominent with the ferocity of a god, he looks tired, and you attempt to speak, to apologize, to voice your worry because you knew channeling the deity without a conduit was a bad idea, before coughing, shaking from the aftermath of your reckless, reckless plan.

(You unfortunately can’t say you regret it much, though, when you silently bear the combined brunt of Time and Fierce Deity’s care once you reach camp and the protective way they act towards you. Even though Majora is long gone much to your resigned exasperation, and the rest of your boys amusement, but that is for much, much later.)

Time gently hums, it rings through you like thunder as he holds you close, tapping your neck in a rhythm you could recognize in your sleep for when he was about to pull arrows, blades or shrapnel from your skin, or was ready to have it done to himself, you immediately loosen yourself as much as possible, gripping his hand tightly as he rips the rest of the Majora’s Mask off, inert and lifeless as when you’ve both woke up from a new day, he holds you close as you try to breathe, reassuring himself you’re still here, “Don’t you ever scare me like that again. Please.” He pleads, begs, prays. He can't lose you too.

And you can’t help it, you smile as you cry crimson and russet tones from your eyes, holding him back as close as you dare to. He doesn’t hate you, you’re sure you’re going to soon participate in the argument of a lifetime. But Link doesn’t hate you, doesn’t see you as a monster any more than you could ever see him as anything but the kind companion you always knew.

So you let yourself nod, helpless to say no to him for anything really. And allow yourself to breathe, you’re both going to be alright.

[ohsillyme]

i'm currently reading junji ito's uzumaki and can't stop thinking about how shuichi looks like dib membrane lol

this page is a good example, shuichi's overall vibes are very similar to dib's (especially the "nothing's unbelievable in this town" part)

✓ both fall into the only sane man trope (or as sane as they can be lmao)

✓ both know something's wrong with the place they live and the people they interact with

✓ both take action to stop the evils around them

anyway have this stupid edit i made

[weizhiyuan]

Okay. So. I had a whole 1700+ word essay written about my thoughts on too many bl fans assuming actors are straight but it was very uhhh rant formatted and got too heated so I’m gonna try again and be a little more chill and concise abt it…

Let me get straight to the point. I didn’t mention fanservice or shipping real people in that little post I made (I wasn’t expecting it to get any notes tbh lmao) but that’s very much related to what I’m talking about. In my experience, being vehemently against fanservice and rps goes hand in hand with assuming these actors are straight which is of course heteronormativity (homophobia!).

Fanservice & shipping are a vital part to the bl ecosystem, and they aren’t going away any time soon. And I don’t mean because it’s great for promoting a product or an upcoming series (which, yes, it can be, not denying that) but fanservice, in fact, queers our perception of “truth” and “reality” when it comes to these actors’ lives. When an actor is purposefully vague about their relationship or sexuality, they’re able to simultaneously not put themselves at risk by being “out” in a more traditional/upfront (perhaps western…) sense while also being capable of being perceived as queer to some degree by their audience. Infinite homosexuality glitch! Shippers are important because they play a role in believing their fav bl couple are together for real aka they are gay for real (also it’s just fun to do…). Yes, some people overstep boundaries but for the most part people are capable of being respectful.

I see a lot of people say bl actors are absolutely not dating each other and 99% of them are straight and probably even homophobic etc. constantly but like… who told you that? If anything, a job where you’re perceived as gay while still being not out enough (having such a hard time phrasing what I mean by this lol) to keep your safety would be way more appealing to literal queer people right? And surely most actors know what they’re getting into by partaking? Yes there can be issues with fanservice, rps, etc. but I can’t help but notice everyone seems to be focused on the issues and never the benefits. Assuming the majority of bl actors are straight is just plain homophobic, and I might argue it’s counterproductive to resist and say it’s “none of my business” when they’re purposefully going out of their way to make it our business (if you’re not into fanservice/shipping that’s fine whatever but what I’m saying is they are trying to make a point to be visibly queer on some level). Yeah, not everyone is gay, I know. But I have a good feeling there’s a lot more queer people in the industry than most people assume.

[ramayantika]

It took me these many years to figure out that YES I am an introvert, and I can comfortably talk to anyone anytime if I WANT TO and make it seem as effortless than the general perception of introverts to be shaking at the thought of having a conversation with a new person or maybe even with a known circle of people

[miusato]

Tfw she has your number as her emergency contact

[sluttyten]

My afraid-of-romance ass has just been asked by another regular customer for my number and the stupid thing is that again I do think this guy is kinda cute and I really probably should say yes

[firstroseofspring]

memory, death and life as komerex zha, the perpetual game; klingon culture as depicted in the final reflection, by john m. ford