#notes from the end of everything

[funeral]

Robert Pantano, Notes from the End of Everything

[thatsitso]

So I finished orv

[pillowenvelopchair]

Jiang Cheng makes me so sick. What do you mean his entire home was burnt down to the ground. What do you mean he had to rebuild it piece by piece with his own hands because his parents died to save him and his brother. What do you mean he had to watch as his whole family died one by one. What do you mean he had to raise his nephew alone while also juggling trauma and a whole sect to run. What do you mean he has haters who will absolutely ruin his character and write him up as someone who is JUST angry and hateful to Wei Wuxian and everyone who’s just unfortunate enough to be at the receiving end of it

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

OUUUUU I’M COOKED I AM SO COOKED I AM NEVER GONNA RECOVER I’LL NEVER BE THE SAME AGAIN OUUUUUUUGHGHGHGHGGGRRAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH

[fandommothfreak]

I think movie buff Duke Thomas should force Jason to watch the LOTR movies and literature nerd Jason Todd should force Duke to read the books.

They should make a movie night out of it and then a weekly book club that's really just Jason periodically hacking comms during Duke's patrol so he can yell at him to finish each chapter like a deranged English teacher that follows you around at work. And then they should get into heated arguments about Tom Bombadil; and Duke should get really invested in overanalyzing all the poetry in the book trilogy; and Jason should rewatch all three movies like seven times at least so he can scribble thoughts into the margins of his paperback copies, write dissertations in his head about the effectiveness of different story changes, and cry at Sam's "But I can carry you!" without having to stop reading.

And then they should repeat all of this with The Hobbit. They're both a little psychotic about it and the rest of the family is tired.

[mychemicalbrromance]

“I don’t love you… like I did… yesterday…”

Sorry I saw this one singular screenshot and this was my first thought I LOVE MCR AND I HATE JOYYYYYYYYY YEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH !!!!!!! (From the crunchy dreams event that I missed and didn’t know about til a few days ago)

[eggo-tistical]

heat wave working conditions

[byfulcrums]

padmé, who most likely grew up with other people doing the cooking for her, probably knows how to make more simple stuff. she can make a nice plate of spaghetti or even ravioli: however, she once managed to find a way to burn ice in a pan, melting the plastic handle, so she's not allowed in the kitchen anymore. she's really good at dessert, though; which is funny, because she likes to eat savory stuff more

meanwhile anakin is a Master Chef. loves to cook, loves to eat, and most importantly loves his wife. what i'm saying is that he's always making 5 star meals for padmé. he wasn't very good at cooking at first, not for a lack of experience but rather because as a slave, he always had to ration his food, and for the longest time he just wasn't sure what amount of everything he should use. he LOVES to eat dessert, but is physically unable to make it. he's perfected the salt and spices and other condiments but sugar? sugar? well just don't ever ask him to make anything sweet

[funeral]

In truth, the sadness and anxiety of existence has no reason. But that is its reason: that it has none. That it can hover over and in anything and everything and yet, refuses to properly justify itself. And because of this, we experience it. If it had a reason, it wouldn’t be so sad or miserable. Sadness, anxiety, and misery with an explanation is easy. Easy to track, source, justify, and potentially overcome. Sadness and anxiety with no clear reason is impossible. It’s like fighting air. And so, the absurd reasonless-ness of it becomes the worst possible reason.

Robert Pantano, Notes from the End of Everything

[renjunnipeikko]

thinking about how blade stood there staring up at the imbibitor lunae statue who knows how long after the quintet “meetup” and even asked trailblazer if dan heng was happy. that statue is of yubie. my brother in christ… methinks this whole thing wasn’t ever really about dan feng’s sin…

[sysig]

Do not separate them /threatening (Patreon)

[spring002]

now playing. . . didn't wanna do it by cass elliot 🎧 <- fun fact! i looped this while writing

he doesn’t understand it. scaramouche found himself awake, indigo eyes staring blankly at his popcorn ceiling. the silence was overbearing to ignore. he was biting his tongue, it’s pathetic really. he kept finding himself having dreams of you. it’s odd. admittedly, they’d never start the same way either. he can’t call it a recurring nightmare, more like distorted fragments of his memories broken and scattered in a dream-like state. similar to those dumb tiktoks, “oh no, my avocado somehow fell into my taba squishy”, but instead, it’s “oh no, my stupid, dumb, infuriating situationship is falling into my dreams.” 

the dream was escaping him now like a lit incense, the aroma lingering but the steam dissipating in the air. he tried to grasp the air as if he could pull it back to try to remember you in his dreams. you were the same, maybe, a little grown now. no longer as a naive mortal like you were before. 

he stifles a laugh when he realizes what he was doing. noticing how he’s mimicking a child, pulling over his blankets over his head, as if it would shield him from his underlying thoughts– his subconscious telling him something he can’t bear to understand nor accept. he doesn’t want this stupid dream to haunt him like a ghost inhibiting a house. he doesn’t want to have any moral ties to someone, pulling his guilt him like a ball to shackle. 

a voice whispers, “why? why would this happen?” 

tsk. 

after all, he was the one who initiated it– ending what was needed for the world. he was the one who snipped the bud when it was going to bloom. it’s what he needed. the voice nagged him, again, now louder. it was harder to ignore when it’s all he could focus on. it’s either that or you. 

“why?” 

why? … why did he end the relationship talkative and honest. something that was so raw and real. something he couldn’t physically handle because who would truly love him for him? frankly, you could’ve been a spy. someone hired by his enemies, which he has plenty. you were definitely one, tasked with the mission impossible: to rob him what he still has little, his humanity. his soul, his raw very being… in simpler terms, his heart. 

if he remembered the dreams, only bit by bit. he squinted at the ceiling, trying to remember the tender, softened look in your eyes that never changed. maybe you are just as bad as you are in real life. pitying him but he knew that wasn’t the case. maybe you were thinking of him the same way he is to you. 

why is the universe who knitted these dreams together, taunting him for what he can’t have?

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

The world if people stopped applying their understanding of "conservatism" and "religion/christianity" through a very modern, deeply American view onto Death Note (a manga from the Early-mid 2000s which is very much set in the cultural and societal context of early-mid 2000s Japan and all that entails):

[ineffectualbookseller]

The way Azirphale is underestimated and practically infantalized by heaven is so closely tied to his femininity and I think we should talk about it more because I just want to shout about how relatable the way he's treated in his workplace is as a woman working in a traditionally male field

It's in all the little niggling comments from your boss about personal things that hold no bearing on your work

and the assumption that what you're doing must be simple if it was assigned to you

your work is trivialized

and you get these the placating smiles when you're told plans and proposals are rejected and passed over

or when your complaints are dismissed

and you get more of the same from upper management

it all feels so frustrating and draining but you're at work so all you can do is take a breathe put on that mask and move on with your day

It is all so deteimental to your emotional well being and textually, so much of this is tied to Aziraphale's softness, his gayness - his femininity

The thing about working in an environment and gives you this feeling - of being simultaneously destrought watching your belief in yourself get chipped away but also just so irate becuase you know you don't deserve it - is how it builds. It sinks under your skin and feeds into this indignant dejection until you can have a moment of release - but Azirphale doesn't get to bitch about it over drinks with friends, he doesn't get a lunch break where he can go for a walk and listen to an angry scandi death metal playlist, he doesn't even get the chance to cry about it in the bathroom for 5 minutes before confronting it again

(And I talked a little bit about it in the tags of this beautiful photoset but this all comes into play whenever Crowley dismisses his plans or calls him an idiot. These are purely emotional reactions; I really don't think Crowley means much by it - he respects Aziraphale's opinion and genuinely thinks he's brilliant - but Crowley is so quick to use this terminology when Aziraphale is making a decision Crowley thinks is wrong and he doesn't know how much this hurts Aziraphale. Just like Aziraphale doesn't understand the true impact the Fall had on Crowley, Crowley doesn't understand the ways heaven has been tearing away at Aziraphale's self worth)

Aziraphale has been facing this constant drip of denigration since before the beginning of time and has never released the pressure valve. At this point, he's a bomb waiting to go off

[vaguely-concerned]

bunter keeping peter from being swallowed up by an evil bog with the kind of hysterical strength otherwise only known by mothers deadlifting cars to save their tender babes is something that can actually be so personal

[xxplastic-cubexx]

pov: your stupid ass just woke up after passing out on stream