[The slaw that goes on top of the pupusa. Emily, they'll follow your lead by the letter. We have here one head of blanched cabbage, carrots, onions, bay leaf, chili flakes, sugar, oregano, apple cider vinegar.]

what studying literature feels like

"people show their true colours in life threatening situations" no, they show you what they act like when they're mortally terrified, an emotion notorious for literally turning your entire brain off to the point where people who go into those situations as a profession need to be literally trained on how to not have that happen

Maiden of Light

I miss the pre-New 52 Tim and Jason dynamic so much. It was basically Jason beating the fuck out of Tim well being all "nothing personal kid I just hate everything about you, your existence and the fact you're breathing right now" and Tim spitting up blood going "what if your mother was a whore, kill yourself" and Jason just deciding right then and there that this kid is his favourite person. Then it just turned into a Tom and Jerry hunt across the city where Jason keeps hitting Tim with the "join me, be my robin" and Tim kicks him in the balls.

Eternally fascinated by the fact that, canonically, Zoro's single (1) neuron is good at maths

Other crewmate's reaction

best thing about uncle iroh is that if you pay attention he is actually just as much of an idiot as zuko but has just mastered the art of coming across as a wise old man. the even better thing is that zuko is the only one on the planet who somewhat realizes this and no one would ever believe him because he's zuko

What it looks like: I've abandoned my fic

What's actually happening: It consumes my thoughts every single day. The urge to write gets stronger but my putty brain just. won't. let. it. happen.

you're in the habit of denying yourself things.

if someone asked you directly, you would say that you love a little treat. you like iced coffee and getting the cookie. you drink juice out of a fancy cup sometimes, and often do use your candles until they gutter out helplessly.

but you hesitate about buying the 20 dollar hand mixer because, like. you could just use your arms. you weren't raised rich. you don't get to just spend the 20 dollars (remember when that could cover lunch?), at least - you don't spend that without agonizing over it first, trying to figure out the cost-benefits like you are defending yourself in front of a jury. yes, this rice cooker could seriously help you. but you do know how to make stovetop rice and it really isn't that hard. how many pies or brownies would you actually make, in order to make that hand mixer worthwhile?

what's wild is that if the money was for a friend, it would already be spent. you'd fork over 40 without blinking an eye, just to make them happy. the difference is that it's for you, so you need to justify it.

and it sneaks in. you ration yourself without meaning to - you don't finish the pint of ice cream, even though you want to. the next time you go to the store, you say ah, i really shouldn't, and then you walk away. you save little bits of your precious things - just in case. sometimes you even go so far as putting that one thing in your shopping cart. and then just leaving it there, because maybe-one-day, but not right now, there's other stuff going on.

you do self-care, of course. but you don't do it more than like, 3 days in a row. after that it just feels a little bit over-the-edge. like. you can't live in decadence, the economy is so bad right now, kid.

so you don't buy the rice cooker. you can-and-will spend the time over the stove. you can withstand the little sorrows. denial and discipline are practically synonyms. and you're not spoiled.

it's just - it's not always a rice cooker. sometimes it is a person or a job or a hug. sometimes it is asking for help. sometimes it is the summer and your college degree. sometimes it is looking down at scabbed knees and feeling a strange kind of falling, like you can't even recognize the girl you used to be. sometimes it is your handprint looking unsteady.

sometimes it is tuesday, and you didn't get fired, and you want to celebrate. but what is it you like, even? you search around your little heart and come up empty. you're so used to denying that all your desires draw a blank.

oh fuck. see, this is the perfect opportunity. if you had a mixer, you'd make a cake.

stuck in the rain.

if i had a nickel for every au spawned from twitter that i SWORE i was going to be normal about

[What is cordito? The slaw that goes on top of the pupusa. I'll follow your lead. We have here one head of blanched cabbage, carrots, onions, bay leaf, chili flakes, sugar, oregano, apple cider vinegar.]

reblog to give ur mutuals a soft lil kissy on the head

Yeah he’s fine.

bibby creeper

"Sad Cat Poem" by Spencer Madsen