#should I make this a ‘read more’

[dereles]

Derek follows the scent, gets an uneasiness he can’t shake. He tracks it down until he realizes that it’s not some innocuous bonfire—it’s Stiles’ house.

He can’t hear anything over the roar of the flames, can’t hear if anyone’s in the house. So he centers himself as much as he can with his heart beating out of his chest, and tries to find the sound of Stiles’ voice, the Sheriff, a distant sound of sirens. What he finds is the rumble of Stiles’ jeep, and relief crashes over him so strongly he’s nearly brought to his knees. It’s not certain, though, so he fumbles his phone out of his pocket and finds Stiles’ number.

“Is there anyone in your house?” Derek asks, as soon as the line connects.

“What? Why?”

“Is there anyone in your house.” Derek asks again, demanding.

“Uh—My dad was home when I left. Why? Derek, what’s happening?”

Derek’s stomach drops, his entire body going tense.

“Call the fire department.”

“Wha—”

“Call the fire department.”

Derek hangs up. There’s so much adrenaline running through him that he feels detached, watching distantly as a part of the house collapses in on itself in a plume of dark smoke. He doesn’t move for long seconds, inhaling deeply even as he feels ash scraping his lungs.

He’s violently jolted back into himself when he breathes in again and…and he knows that—that’s the smell of burning flesh. That’s the smell of Stiles’ only family burning alive and the rumble of Stiles’ jeep getting closer and he can’t—he can’t let—

Derek’s eyes are open, but he’s not seeing. Everything narrows down to that single scent as he takes a step forward, another step—not Stiles, not him too.

He might hear Stiles’ voice as he steps over the threshold, distracted as he remembers that there’s no mountain ash here, nothing that will keep him out, nothing that will keep them trapped inside. It falls away at the sight of the Sheriff, only feet away from the door, grunting with effort as he tries to push a burning chunk of roof off himself with black and blistered hands.

Derek’s shoving it away, pulling him up, half-carrying the man out the door, completely unaware of the deep groves of ash already healing in his palms. Stiles is running towards him—crying, terrified—but he hears the Sheriff’s steady, calming tone through choking coughs as they collapse against each other a safe distance from the flames.

Derek can’t stay—he can’t be near it anymore, but he can’t leave, wherever he goes he knows he’ll still be tasting ash, that smell—

He runs away. He runs home, home that’s not home anymore, home painted with soot and pain and guilt and alone, what he deserves.

He spends the night there by himself. But what he doesn’t know is that he won’t have to be alone much longer.

[beybuniki]

they should go on a fishing trip pt.1

[angelnet23]

falin from dungeon meshi doodle

[vaguely-concerned]

sometimes I think of all the on-the-surface warm, well-meaning but deeply ineffectual advice and attention john gives harrow through harrow the ninth (make some soup and get some sleep! get a hobby! don't be so hard on yourself! self care harrow! as long as I need take no actual responsibility in this relationship whatsoever I would have loved to be your dad!) set up against the stark truth that with his other hand he has been staging her attempted horrific murder again and again and again like a living nightmare on the logic that it will 'put her down or fix her'. and then I find that I wish there is a hell. a special hell where twitch streamers turned necromantic death emperors go

[quantumjellyfish]

I have just acquired the polish translation of Gideon the Ninth and 'Griddle' is translated to „Głupeon” which means 'Stupideon'

[lunapegasus]

[homielander]

shiv's motivations for voting to pass the gojo deal are so layered and i don't think they should be dismissed in favour of any one interpretation. shiv desperately grabbed on to a lifeline for her relationship with tom. shiv was the deciding vote and she couldn't bear to hold the crown only for a moment just to place it atop her brother's head. shiv knew she would have more influence as wife of CEO rather than sister of CEO. shiv absolutely hated seeing kendall crystallize into logan before her eyes, especially when he made roman bleed ("and if we did kill him we get to go to bed") -- succession has always been about siblings so of course she tried to free her brothers before her child. shiv still thinks she can raise her child with all the material benefits of being the daughter of waystar CEO while doing better by her, whatever that means. and all of those things are true

[crunchchute]

[inkskinned]

im having a particularly terrible night with urges and imagery that i dont know how to handle. i gave in to some things. held back on some others. but im barely holding on, dear internet stranger.

you do not owe me your time or your words.. but if you could write some hope into existence for me.. i would be unendingly grateful to you.

please. tell me how you do it. tell me how you survive. because im not so sure i can get through the fifteen days it'll take to get to my seventeenth birthday.

could you please give me something to place my faith in? i dont think the universe is watching out for me anymore.

i don't usually answer these, because i am not a professional, and you deserve professional help. when i was 17 i was terrified of the idea of professional help, because my household was extremely unsafe, and made it clear that if i ever chose to get help, i would be punished for it.

i hope this is not your case. i hope that you can call someone, and they can take you where you should go.

but i will give you the advice that i wish i got, when i couldn't get help at 17, when i was so bad that years later, i literally don't-know-how-i-survived it: what you want is peace, not death. your brain is sick. it has romanticized an ending where there are no consequences. where effort isn't necessary. where you can just... forget.

you want peace. that is a normal, human thing to want. maybe it feels more like you want quiet. or just... to take a break for a second.

here is what i will say: to end yourself means you never get to experience what it's like to actually be happy. i thought i knew what it was like, and i was bitter about it. i'd say - i've been happy, it's not worth it, because i didn't know what i was missing. i thought that happiness meant having a partner or having a job or money or a college degree. it sounded like effort. it sounded like something that had to happen to me.

for the first time in my life, just this week, i was able to go to a concert and just-enjoy-it. no liquor, no drugs. just stomping my feet and getting caught up in it. i didn't feel nervous or self-conscious or overwhelmed. i just had a good time. these days have a lot of these firsts for me - it is the first time i can eat cake without crying. it is the first time i can be around an exacto blade without supervision. it is the first time i have too many people to call when i am crying.

i can't tell you where you'll run into happiness, only that, for me, it started once i was out of that fucking house. it started once i figured out where the pain was coming from. once i figured out that i was not possessed, something medical was wrong with me. that i am not stupid or lazy, i have depression and adhd. the first few years were difficult. at 19, during my efforts to recover, i actually got worse by a considerable margin. and then, with time and patience - i got better.

happiness doesn't feel like what you think it will. in movies it's so golden and all-encompassing. but it doesn't fly into your hands when you buy your first car nor does it arrive in the arms of a partner nor does it require passing your classes. happiness came to me on a tuesday in the form of a red-winged blackbird, and i looked at her, and she looked at me, and i said - oh. the whole world suddenly filled itself in with color. like i had been forever-asleep. like every corner of every room was suddenly glistening.

it ended quickly, back then. it just stopped in to check in on me. but it was enough - this thing i had never experienced, but that i knew (logically) could happen. before that, i was only staying because it would make my mom sad if i died. that was my only reason. and then the happiness came, so strange and brilliant and lovely that for years i couldn't even look at it directly.

these days, things are so different. life is so much easier. i don't wish for death because so much of what i have is already at peace. my boss understands when i need a mental health day. people in general are less prone to high school drama. entire communities hold my hand and have my number. i have a car and a dog and a little apartment garden and candles on all available surfaces and today i bought myself a little cake just-to-celebrate-nothing. my body is my own and we are both dancing.

there are so many things i've gotten to taste in the last 10 years. i know, for you, that is an eon, because it's more than half of your life. but if it helps? in the 5 years between 17-21: i filled myself with laughter and love. i got to be a lead in a ballet and got my first tattoo and then my second and pierced my ears the way i'd wanted to (one of them professionally the other over a hot stove with a potato) and i discovered hozier is my favorite singer (i know. he was new back then) and i got my first real job and my first real paycheck and i hadn't ever been seen as smart but then i started to actually treat my adhd as a condition rather than a burden and people started saying you're like the smartest person in the room and my best friend met her husband who i will one day stand next to as maid of honor when he is her groom and i got to help people and make a stupid blog called "inkskinned" and find out that writing is actually my passion and that maybe i'm actually kind of good at it if i just practice and i got to meet my parents' dog (his name is kaiju) and i slept on couches and kissed people and tried new things and learned how to breathe without feeling my chest tighten and that peace is here, on this planet, that peace echoes everywhere, it is in my hair and my homework and my houseplants, it is quiet and divine and mine because i fought for it and i built it and yes i lost hair over it but holy shit the whole world feels like it is shifted through a sunbeam

recently someone asked me if i could go back in time to 6th grade, with all the knowledge i have now, would i? and without thinking, i barked absolutely not. i know i should say it's because i wouldn't want to risk losing any of this stuff - but really it's because i would never survive being a teenager again. it sounds incredibly lame and impossible, fake - but being a teenager was the hardest thing i ever did. i had no voice, no control, only fear and hatred.

but i did survive it. nothing about me is special. nothing about me is stronger than you or better prepared or more efficient. i didn't survive it perfectly. i made a lot of mistakes and lost a lot of friends and harmed myself in ways that i'm still recovering from. but i did survive it. and there is a part of me looking at you in the past and saying - i'm you in the future.

and holy shit. every day. every goddamn day i'm glad we survived to see the rest of it. because you hit 18 and everything changes. like, everything. and holy shit, it is infinitely worth it.

[thoselittleboats]

BG3 text posts - Raphael (1/?)

bonus - spoiler

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Call that a Cave Story.

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[bonebrokebuddy]

So, my favorite canon explanation for the continued design choice of the brightass yellow bat symbol on Batman’s chest as the suit has gotten darker and darker is that it’s a target.

If a criminal has a gun and a massive black shadow comes at them, in their fright they’re going to probably shoot at the bright yellow target in the center of Batman’s chest, the purposefully most armored piece of his suit rather than blindly shooting at weaker areas of his armor, like the joints. It gives the criminals something to point and shoot at that’s not civilians or weak points in his armor.

But here’s the thing.

The utility belt is also yellow.

So, going with that logic:

He want them to shoot at he dick?!

Is that what he wants?

He dick be shot?

Why he want shot his dick?

[fictionadventurer]

Maybe the problem with Christian fiction is that it's non-denominational. People are just "Christian", with no effort put into showing what practicing that religion looks like for them specifically. No indication that there are other Christians who could have different beliefs. No wrestling with differing ideas and the struggle of how one should live out their Christian faith. And that makes it unrealistic and unrelatable.

[ryllen]

Was giving these analysis a read [ x , x , x , x ]

[captaincolorblob]

Everyday i think about this screenboard scene that got semi-scrapped from Donnie vs Witch Town, like it just explains so much about Donnie as a character and i’m very sad we didnt get to see it entirely