#sorry but this shit makes me emotional

[lokilow-keystabbing]

This is a team that doesn't care who Scores the most Goals, Dont care who break's the next record. This, this is a team that scores together

We have a Team

[crunchchute]

Sam and Max if they were cool /j

[deoidesign]

something that makes me sad is when people tell me the healthy communication in my writing is "unrealistic."

like guys this is how me and my partner talk with eachother... I'm writing from personal experience...

[byrdffv]

[sparring-spirals]

Compromise. Im not going to actually WRITE meta but i AM going to lay out a list of things I'm thinking about broadly and thematically and would probably write meta about if i were properly caught up and informed, but is instead influenced much more by early campaign F.C.G:

**edit: no this is kind of meta again. sorry.

- F.C.G grappling with the questions of: being made. purpose. whether it matters if you find your own purpose if you were made with one in mind and you "choose" something else. Can you actually? Does it matter? Is your choice a choice at all?

- Wanting so badly to heal people and help people and the unique fear of waking up and seeing damage done by your own hands. To the same people you wanted so badly to help. You extend healing and you offer comfort or kind words but all the while, in your core is a tightness. In your core is a danger. How much good do you need to do to get the blood off your chassis? Can you, at all?

- Metal body. Metal hands. A little wheel. You were a turtle once and it felt so wondrous to breathe. You try out tongues or little wooden legs or whatnot but it always comes back to an inorganic metal body and empty insides no matter if youre filling them with liquids or secret goods to smuggle or pastries (faux warmth). Maybe everything like wooden legs dangling off a metal body. All for show.

- A coin in hand. Looking for a higher power. Thinking about choice. Deferring choices.

- You love your friends, so much. You love people being kind to each other. You love your boyfriend and their wonderful way of thinking. You love being alive. Even when you doubted you were at all. You love, truly and deeply.

- Ashton raging at F.C.G for being a martyr. For aching for a good enough reason to get himself hurt or killed or blown up. Ashton looking at F.C.G knowing they're all messed up inside and trying so hard to stop them from letting it destroy them.

- Ashton always worried about how they're always trying to find a big enough cause, a good enough reason.

And so with those things, I remembered about F.C.G:

- F.C.G looking at their friends all down. Ashton laid out unmoving.

- F.C.G with something awful in their core. Ready to spill out. The same something awful they were always worried about. They were always aware of.

- F.C.G always looking for that reason. For that bigger and better cause.

- F.C.G always feeling like they didn't understand purpose, like it was so. unattainable- finally, briefly, startlingly- sure. Finally free of doubt. Their friends down and something awful and destructive in their core and one last thing they can do to maybe make things worth it, and the ability to choose it. They were made for something. They chose what to do with it.

- F.C.G finding that reason. F.C.G making that call. F.C.G thinking it was worth it.

- I think because of him, they succeeded. They won. That is certain.

- I think. "Worth it". Is always a subjective thing.

- I think. A self sacrifice is never just one person giving everything up. A self sacrifice, unfortunately- is one person making a choice.

And everyone else caught, in the blast radius.

[describingcolours]

"well youve had it 6 years that's a good amount of time for that kind of thing to work"

"you should be grateful you got 3 years of use out of that thing, I'm lucky if mine last a year haha"

listen, in 1977 nasa launched the voyager spacecrafts to take advantage of a planetary alignment that takes place every 175 years. These 2 crafts were planned to flyby the outer planets of our solar system and gather data on them to send back to us. Voyager 2 launched first on the 20th of August despite its name because it was planned to reach our gas giants after its counterpart voyager 1, which launched a little later on the 5th of September.

The voyager mission was planned to end 12 years later in 1989. In that time, voyager 1 and 2 passed by Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune. They discovered new moons, confirmed theories about Saturn's rings, found the first active volcanoes found outside the earth, and they take close-up images of planets only seen at that point from telescopes.

On the 25th of August 1989, voyager 2 encounters Neptune, the last planet in our solar system the voyagers will meet. And that was that. End of mission. Now obsolete.

~

Less than 1 year later on valentine's day in 1990 voyager 1 looked back on the planet that had built it and sent with it a world's worth of hopes and dreams and took a picture. We called it the solar system family portrait and in it, we see ourselves. The pale blue dot nestled in the darkness of space

And then commands were sent to shut down their cameras. Preserve fuel.

35 years after launch, in 2012 voyager 1 sent back to us data about interstellar space. The very first manmade object to enter it.

41 years after launch voyager 2 did the same. Still operational, still going. Still sending back to us invaluable data, teaching us about our own solar system and the suns influence in our local bubble of space.

They are expected to continue to operate until the year 2025 - almost 50 whole years after they were launched and 36 years after their mission was supposed to have ended.

48 years of harsh space travel, battered by solar winds, pulled by gravity but fast enough just to escape, pelted by who knows how much space dust and radiation.

And even after that, they still have a purpose. Each craft was given a golden record. A disc filled with human knowledge and knowledge of humans and the planet they live on. Greetings and well-wishes to any prospective extraterrestrial life that could potentially pick it up. Co-ordinates, an invite. Samples of our music, the things we love, sounds of the earth, a story of our world. The surf, the wind, birds and whales, images of a mother, our moon, a sunset. Long after the voyager spacecrafts go dark, probably long after we are gone, they will still be doing their job; educating a species about our very tiny corner of the galaxy.

They are nasa's longest-running operation.

And it was all done using 70s technology.

So excuse me if I want a phone that lasts more than 2 years or a vacuum cleaner that doesn't break down after 6, or god fucking forbid, a refrigerator that will keep my food cold my entire fucking lifetime.

[lyctorhood]

harrow i hate you i never stopped hating you i will always hate you and you will always hate me don’t forget that its not like i ever can you may hate me all you wish i still don’t even remember about you half the time but nonagesimus you hating me always meant more than anyone else in this hot and stupid universe loving me at least i had your full attention harrowhark i gave you my whole life and you didn’t even want it

[artbybai]

Thinking more abt Z Broly and Paragus and. Their movie is so frustrating and tragic and heart-wrenching AS WELL AS BEING GENERALLY COOL AND FLASHY

As @/RedDogJustice on Twitter pointed out:

Trying to fight Broly head on = respectable

Trying to flee/take him down indirectly = cowardice

That’s. That’s how Broly operates with Paragus. His own father. Every day of his life.

He saved his own father from death as a baby, nearly dying himself in the process, and what did Broly get for it? Being called a freak. A Demon. Being tormented day in and day out by his father telling him the mind control diadem/suppressor crown was to help him. Being forced to hold himself back his whole life until Broly was literally ripped apart by what he tried to contain to be seen as “perfect” and worthy of his father’s pride and love. USED AS A SECRET WEAPON OF PARAGUS FOR SHALLOW, SHORT-SIGHTED PETTINESS.

Z Broly never had a single friend or person who showed him any amount of kindness that wasn’t a veil for secret, hideous cruelty, his entire life, born with something others deemed dangerous, something others felt was an acceptable excuse for dehumanizing him. Nobody tried to understand or help him. Nobody even tried to see beneath the surface or ask if he was okay. They listened to legends, gossip, his father, over what they could see with their own eyes.

His most desperate cry for help turns to joy when he finally lets loose despite being told that it would ultimately kill him. Wicked glee, a chance to show others a fraction of what he’s suffered, and the endless, unstoppable fear he endured. For someone to engage with and finally see him.

Now I almost think that that final punch Goku landed on Z Broly wasn’t so much “Goku’s just that powerful to destroy him” because THIS IS THE FREAKIN LEGENDARY SUPER SAIYAN. THE ONE THAT DESTROYS GALAXIES. Goku was only the ceramic chip to a car windshield.

Broly went out the same way he started: crying for help.

Z Broly is a heartbreaking tragedy and I’ll never be over it tbh

[shima-draws]

Been having a rough couple of days. Send me asks?

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Fuck I hate being an adult. I need a more adult adult to help with the volatile emotional situation.

[dulcesiabits]

flat side of a blade.

summary: Another short piece with my MC, Qilan, and Chase from @shepherds-of-haven, reflecting on their relationship together, their relationship with violence, and their similarities as people!

notes: 1.5k words, spoilers for chase's backstory, mentions of blood/violence

Qilan is seven the first time her father places a dagger in her hands. A real dagger, Ket-forged steel with a wicked shine, sharpened to a fine point. A sturdy handle, slotting perfectly into her chubby first. Pristine, black, shining. 

But her father’s eyes are nothing but sad when he guides her grip, adjusting her fingers on the handle for a proper handling position. He’s a warrior, a leader. The best fighter in their mercenary company, with hair as wild as the sea spray crashing against the jagged rocks of the coastline. Her father, as far as Qilan is concerned, is the strongest man in the world. 

“You have to promise me something, Qi,” her father says. “You have to remember what it means to take a human’s life.”

“Okay, father,” she asks, obedient to the last.

He kneels, crushes her shoulders like bird talons, urgency lacing his voice. “You can never forget the price of taking a life. To kill someone, so you can survive. The world is a cruel place, Qi, but you don’t have to be cruel. The things I’m going to teach you, that you have to learn… they’re not to be taken lightly. A blade is a tool, defined only by its master’s intentions. Do you understand?” Her bones creak under his tightening grip, but she dares not wince. She can only clutch the dagger tighter until her knuckles are white and the imprint of the hilt presses red lines into her palms. “Do you understand? Promise me.”

“I understand, father,” she says. It’s not quite the truth, but it’s not a lie, either. She doesn’t understand, but she wants to, at least. Not because the idea of honor means anything to her yet, vague term that it is, but because whatever it is her father needs from her, she could never bear to hurt him by rejecting it. 

Her own serious face gleams like a ghost in the blade’s black edge. A human life. Could it really be worth as much as her father’s trust in her?

–

Chase is seven when his father forces a blade into his palm, a heavy dagger that rests uncomfortably in his grip, handles still too wide for his fingers to grasp.

“What is this, captain?” he asks, trying to spin it in his palm like a toy. One stern look stills his attempts, and the restrained energy quivers down to his toes. He never calls the captain “father,” as much as he wants to; it seems to upset the man somehow, though Chase can’t quite put a finger on why. But to have a father at all is a blessing, so he swallows any complaints.

“It’s a new job I want you to pick up for me, Chase,” his father says. “You’re going to learn to use that. There are some rats aboard, and I want you to help me handle them.”

“Rats?” Chase says slowly. “Why don’t we get a cat to handle them, then? It would be easier than trying to hunt ‘em ourselves.”

“Hah! Isn’t that a suggestion? Chase, these are the sort of rats that can’t be handled by a cat, do you understand?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t want you to ask me any questions. I just want you to listen to me. I’m going to be teaching you some necessary skills in the upcoming weeks. Just do as I say, and make me proud. Do you understand?”

Chase stands a little straighter. “I do! I’m ready, captain.”

It’s an honor his father trusts him to handle any important tasks at all. And… maybe… if Chase does well, then his father will be proud of him, and pat his head, and tell Chase he’s proud of him. How hard can his father’s tasks be?

–

The truth of the matter is that humans are a fragile mess of nerves and arteries and meat, and one cut is often more than enough to sever the thin thread of their lives.

Sometimes, that severance is messy, despite his best efforts.

Blood stains his clothes, and his favorite daggers are coated in gore, the remains of some poor fool still clinging to their blades. Even if he cleans them, it’s a sin that Chase will never be fully able to wash off, no matter what he does. A reminder that he’ll always be that little boy, wielding weapons he isn’t old enough to grasp, chasing after the ghosts of men who will never be satisfied.

Every strike brings him back to that time, every cut of his blade dangerously close to reopening old, raw wounds which Chase has carefully sewn closed. 

He doesn’t want anyone to see him like this, not unless he can make a proper show out of it, another stroke to the masterpiece of his legacy. 

But somehow, despite his careful steps and his calculated path, there’s one person who smashes his plans to smithereens, as she always seems to do.

Qilan finds him, as he’s slinking out of the shadows, towards the Shepherd’s compound. There are never any words with her, never any explanations. She only glances at the mess on his body, and tugs him towards a secluded corner, away from the common area, so he can wash away the blood, away from prying eyes.

Chase can’t tell whenever Qilan’s sharp intuition is a blessing, or a curse.

“You don’t have to stay,” he says, pink blood pooling into the mud. They’re at a courtyard pump, and Qilan watches as he runs water through his clothes, his hair until the water is clear again. He’s taken off his shirt, and wrings it out. “I get the appeal of seeing me like this, but–”

“Your hands are cut,” she interrupts lightly. “You grip your dagger too tightly, do you know that?”

She takes one of his hands without warning, tracing her thumb over faint scars on his wet palm. Her touch is warm against the cool water, and he wants to jerk back.

“It’s a force of habit, from when I learned it,” he says. “The blade was too big for me back then.”

A pulse of warmth, like a spring tide, flows through his hand, as his little cuts close and his skin sews itself back together. Healing magic.

“Old habits are hard to break. My father taught me to wield the dagger, and he would always nitpick my form,” she says. She runs another thumb over the back of his palm, as if surveying her new work, the unblemished skin, the cuts gone. Her fingers send shots of sunlight through his veins with each touch.

“Your old man was Ket, right? No wonder you’re so good. I always thought your form was a bit like Blade’s.”

“It might have been because of that,” she concedes. She still hasn’t pulled away. “Even for a Ket, he was strict. He didn’t want me to take people’s lives lightly.”

He should pull away now. There’s no reason to hold onto her any longer. But his hand, traitorous thing, won’t move. “How heroic of him, and of you.”

She laughs lightly. “I never had such good intentions. I just didn’t want to disappoint him.”

“I think that’s understandable,” Chase says. 

Neither of them say anything for a while. What ghosts has she conjured up? It’s hard to tell when Qilan’s face is always pulled into a gentle smile. For some people, it might be reassuring, but Chase sees it for what it is: a mask, carefully calculated to set people at ease and to hoard her secrets. 

He knows better than to pry, to peek at what lies underneath. Her smile is a fortress, guarding all her secrets like precious gems. Knowledge and information, he knows, are the most powerful currency in the world, and she knows better than to flaunt her wealth.

They’re alike in that aspect. Knowing where to draw their lines, to tread carefully along each other’s boundaries.

“By the way, you can always come find me if you need more healing. I’d never turn down a chance to get close and personal with you.” She smiles again, all seriousness vanishing like snow under sunlight. It’s always one step forward, two steps back with Qilan, and this is her way of smoothing over the tension.

“What if I get hurt just to spend more time with you?” 

“I wouldn’t complain, Captain Trinaeste,” she says. “You know where to find me.” She spins on her heel to leave, but pauses. “You know, a dagger is one of the most difficult weapons to wield. It requires you to get close to your target, and the margin of error is wide.”

“It’s easier if you’re used to it,” he says lightly. 

“That’s true. It would be difficult to try to pick up a different weapon now. But I’m glad to be with someone who understands what it’s like to fight with one.”

And then Qilan is gone, as if she was never there in the first place, and all Chase has left is the lingering warmth in his hand. But even that, too, will fade away with the water and the passing of time. The only thing that can possibly last is the mark of a blade, biting deep.

[thespineoftherighteous]

can i ask you to elaborate on matt's mom finding aaron as her favorite fox? it's been a while since i read the books

YES i can. i got so excited to answer this because it's such a scrumptious concept to me

in the books there isn't much between them, besides the fact that Matt's mother (Randy) pays Aaron's bail and Aaron spends Christmas with her in New York (which happens off screen so there could've been loads that happened then).

but there is this scene in the EC where Aaron chalks up the strength to go up to Randy and thank her when she comes to Palmetto to watch a game. (this is from a draft where Aaron and co don't spend Christmas break with Matt, so this is the first time Aaron actually meets her. this scene could have easily still happened though, just in NY, and i consider it canon.) and there's this. fucking wholesome as fuck moment where she hugs him until he sinks into it and tells him that she's proud of him and calls him family and i think, EC or not, it's genuinely one of my favorite scenes in the entire series:

It took Aaron most of Thursday afternoon to work up the courage, but he finally approached Randy at the end of practice to thank her for paying his bail. Neil was in charge of the stick rack and ball buckets today, but he deliberately slowed down his work to eavesdrop. Aaron's gratitude was the stilted mess of a man not used to admitting when he was wrong.

    Randy looked a bit baffled, then recovered enough to stress, "You gave me back my son. Do you understand? There is nothing I can do to make that up to you."

    Aaron was honest enough to say, "That wasn't my decision."

    Randy reached for him, but Aaron flinched at the first brush of her fingers against his shoulders. Aaron recovered quickly, but the damage was already done. Randy's smile vanished and the look she gave Aaron was heavy enough to make Neil uncomfortable ten feet away.

    Last summer Neil had recoiled from Wymack much the same way, so certain of being hurt for his transgressions and stupidity. For months his stomach had knotted a bit every time Wymack raised his voice at practice. Even as recently as January Neil willfully told himself Wymack's concern was anger because fear of older men was a powerful enough motivator to get Neil through his second thoughts and nightmares.

Only now did Neil understand that a person could fear an older woman the same way. Neil's mother had hit him and screamed at him, but she'd always been on his side. She'd always been his mother first. He'd known Aaron's mother was abusive, had heard it from Nicky and had it affirmed by Andrew back in November. He'd thrown it in Aaron's face knowing it would hurt, but somehow he'd still always thought it a different matter. Neil couldn't imagine a world where mothers weren't actually mothers.

Neil finally understood, though he didn't know if it was stupidity or prejudice that had blinded him this long. Cass Spear could have been Andrew's mother once. These days Andrew leaned on Betsy Dobson. Aaron, on the other hand, never had anyone to fill that role.  Aaron wouldn't let the Foxes in because of Andrew, but he couldn't let Nicky in because he didn't know how. He'd gotten this far in life on his own, surviving on willpower and sheer desperation.

    For a moment Neil thought Randy would take offense at Aaron's reaction and walk away. Instead she slowly raised her hands to Aaron's face and cradled his cheeks in her hands.

    "Hey," she said, more subdued than she'd sounded all day but somehow still hard with conviction. "I'm so proud of you. Do you hear me? I'm so proud of you. You did what you had to do to defend your family, and tomorrow you're going to do whatever it takes to defend our family. Okay? It's going to be okay."

    Aaron stared back at her, silent and frozen. Randy nodded at whatever she saw on his face and made a slow attempt at hugging him. Aaron didn't fight her off, and Randy held on until Aaron finally relaxed.

for a second i was going to take out some of Neil's commentary but i actually think it's good in showing how much this actually fucking means. his perception alone implies that Randy could be so much more to Aaron

anyway. that's as far as canon takes you but i believe that their relationship grows over the years, one way or another. grows into something that is very good for Aaron, something he needs. i also believe that Matt and Aaron get closer (I've got a wholeee post on that i think tho) and that either helps or is helped by Aaron and Randy's relationship. given the logistics they probably don't interact face to face often (maybe NY Christmases become a thing though) but that doesn't matter. Aaron has someone in his corner, not Nicky or Coach or Katelyn but someone just far enough outside the vortex of PSU to maybe take on a little bit of the weight he's always had to carry, maybe ease the solo war against the world that he's been fighting every day of his life.

[m1d-45]

You know, that would be ANGSTY COMICAL if we mixed that in the aftermath of the reveal of who is the real creator, since it could be taken as the creator REPLACING characters who hurt them.

-🥘Stew

that was the intent!

i think diluc would have it easiest. red is from a hateful part of his past, and he knows that he’s grown beyond that stage. if it weren’t for red’s temperament, he’d want to try and connect, if only to gain his trust. it still hurts, knowing that even after all this time he still failed to be what you needed, but it burns him the least.

fischl would be worse. night is everything she tried so badly to be, down to her own oz. to make it worse, night couldn’t care less about fischl, ignoring her monologues about who’s the real princess. the only one she needs the approval of is you, and she’d gotten that the second she was first summoned. she does fischl the mercy of letting her keep her name, but even that is mostly at your discretion. ‘fischl,’ ‘night,’ whatever. she just needs to protect you where amy failed.

and kaeya… my poor beloved. if night is what fischl wanted to be, shade is what kaeya has to be. night is a persona that fischl copied, shade is the very mask kaeya had put on for all his life. he’d entirely remade himself, down to the name he used and the way he treated his fellow knights, and it still wasn’t enough. all of his effort was poured into making himself something that could be accepted, that could be good enough. he’d thought he’d done a good job when he was first marked as a vessel, but now in the hunt it’s clear that his palatability only ran skin deep. shade is what you need, shade is what you want, and he’s genuine about it. shade’s entire life is yours, and he was rewarded for that devotion with your affection, earning a place at your side. and kaeya had devoted himself to the hunt instead, was so blinded by his own desires that he’d ignored the resistance of his vision. diluc may hate his past and fischl may hate night, but kaeya can only really hate himself.

[hellonoblesky]

I’m on q passionate Thrawn rage resurgence tonight idk why but I keep thinking about how after Ashoka came out there were people who were like “Do you people even LIKE Star Wars??? All you do is complain” abt Thrawn fans who were rightfully and loudly distraught about how he was being adapted and I lose my mind a little. Bc YES we like Star Wars that’s why we’re upset! Bc a beloved character was being adapted HORRIBLY!! Loving media doesn’t mean you have to grovel at the feet of the creators and thank them for every scrap it means you LOVE a MEDIA. And filoni’s Thrawn for me personally like, took out a bunch of the original media that I loved so so much. It was like thinking you were going to see your favorite artist and then a cover band who can’t rlly play and doesn’t have passion for the craft comes out instead. Where was the CARE? Where was the patient explanation? Where was the way he guides those at his side through the scenario so they catch up with where he’s thinking? Where was his crew? His passion for art? His passion for culture? He’s such a vibrant and rich character in his books, absolutely teeming with life and care and then in shows he’s just…. Flat. No gentle smiles and nods of approval at his commanders. No slipping into the background to guide but not overshadow his crew. No mention of the Chiss or Grysk, not even a display of the like 6 languages he knows. Nothing. Just bland.

[beartes22]

Constantly thinking about how WWX thinks about JC how he thinks JFM thought about YZY but mostly as how he denied and yet carelessly commented JFM thinks (disregards) about JC

It is so, so, so fucked up and one of the reasons why chengxian is so doomed by the narrative bc no matter what JC does or says, WWX already "knows" what is about. Bc JC is his shidi and WWX knows best. And still, pre masacre, pre core exchange, it could have work. It could have, because they love each other so much but JC lost his core. WWX thinks he chose his parents. He thinks Jc choose the dead bodies of his parents, a filial duty, over survival, over him. And he never forgave Jc for it.

Bc now is WWX turn to assume the consequences of his shidi actions, now it is his turn to bear the pain for him. And he does not do it with reluctance, he does not, he does it bc he loves Jc so so much, but still. Still. The hurt it caused it. The hell it send to him. The hopelessness.

And then to see his shidi thrive were he can’t no longer. To see him shine when he is but a shadow. To see him reach for the impossible time and time again as if it was not WWX who never gave up before, who rallied his shidi over his (small, imagined, greedy) woes. To see all that and know envy, envy he had denied his whole life and envy he will repress into resentment, into sth useful bc WWX is not like yzy or Jc he is not, he does not hurt the ones he lives with his jealousy and sense of inferiority. Bc how can he not envy, when one says his dad doesn’t love him but he still has a dad? When one says he is not enough for his sect when he has such a inheritance, such a clear path at life. And WWX never cared never ever ever, how could he? He loved his shidi best, in spite of all the bad things.

And somehow, Jc himself is a thing he has to be loved in spite of. And it’s heartbreaking.

[ghouljams]

What's truly memorable about your writing? Other than the world building which has already been mentioned, it would have to be how you characterize each of the different characters. Even in the different AUs you manage to make the boys and their darlings so unique and well developed.

❤️❤️❤️

Thank youuuu ❤️❤️❤️ I try so hard to do the boys and their darlings justice, even in my weird ass aus, I'm glad they're coming off as well developed because damn I am not always confident in that