I’m sorry. Forgive me, will you? The silent treatment is killing me. I’ll cook your favourite potato pancakes for lunch. Okay?  What’s with you? Stop bothering me. 

y'all need to get a grip. you blab all day about how much you hate bigots and hateful people and how evil it is to dehumanize anyone and then you turn around and say "kys" and "i think [x] should all just kill themselves" and other disgusting, violent and childish trash

so many people on here are just full of hatred and vitriol and turn into frenzied sharks anytime the target 'deserves it' and they think they can get away with it and not be called bad people. then they whine about how sad it is that we can't all just get along and if only all the evil people in the world would stop doing evil things wouldn't that be nicer

you're just as vicious, hypocritical and fanatically puritanical as the caricature you have made in your minds of the people you think you have nothing in common with. if you've ever told someone, ANYONE to kill themselves you're not advocates of justice, you're not artisans of peace, and you certainly don't have any moral high ground that would allow you to pass judgment on others

Yuma Kagiyama: Werther » 2023 Grand Prix de France

Can I get a happy grant (teen edition bc lbr that man hasn’t been happy since s1) to comfort me through the last episode ending

sorry a genuine happy grant is in the corner i doodled the right thing first and gave up but here u go!!

ALSO LOL THANKS FOR BEIN VAGUE I SHOULD MENTION THAT I HAVEN'T WATCHED THE LAST 2 EPS SO. UH. YEAH TRYING NOT TO CATCH THESE SPOILERS!!!

It's @shipwreckedcomedy's 10th anniversary and I had to draw something 🎂

Thank you for making me realize what my real aesthetic was and making me buy a big poster of Oscar Wilde that stares at me while I sleep ✨

caw 🦅

the difference between zosopp and sanuso (romantic OR platonic) is that Usopp is Zoro's specialest little guy and Zoro is someone Usopp hangs out with and looks up to and hides behind when things get scary, but Sanji and Usopp are best friends. They horse around, they beat each other up, they confide their worst fears trying to one up each other. Usopp hides behind Sanji sometimes, sure, but idk, Sanji's weaknesses are more obvious (bugs, fighting women, etc) so there are times when Usopp has to stand in front of Sanji too, yknow?

Like, how do I say this, all the crewmates are equal- Usopp and Zoro are equals- but with Sanji it feels like more... comradery? Zoro's a rock in a terrible storm- even rocks tend to get weathered and chipped and worn down, but they overall stay strong and steady. He has trouble being vulnerable and there are times when the burden he's placed on himself to keep the crew safe is crushing his chest. Usopp would help with that and be very understanding, but the point I'm trying to get with that is that those moments are few and far between. So I feel like Usopp, especially after Water 7, would take Zoro's lead on something like that, and keep most of his worries to himself or only talk about them sparingly unless they're really bad and/or he can't hide them.

Sanji is like a tree in a storm; he can be strong, yes, but it feels like he bends and sways with the storm, and has more obvious breaking points. He can relate more to Usopp's struggles rather than resorting to blunt honesty that might border on callous like Zoro. And while, with Zosopp, I tend to think of scenarios with Zoro being blunt like that as a good thing- because sometimes when you're spiraling, it's nice to have someone say exactly what's great about you and shoot down all your worries with straight facts that you can't argue with- I can also see this as being a bad thing. Anxiety can really twist up your brain sometimes, you know? And despite the words, the tone could still mess someone up if they're already feeling like a burden on others in some way.

With Sanuso it's a lot more understanding and thoughtful words. It's distractions and comfort food and patience- the kind reserved for Usopp- until Usopp talks about whatever's troubling him. Compared to Zosopp, it doesn't take as long for Usopp to open up, since he's done the same thing to Sanji at times and it's more familiar to him to talk and commiserate with Sanji about his worries and doubts and such. However, there are times stuff like this has absolutely no effect and Sanji will end up at a loss, no idea what to do or how to help over the course of several days with Usopp being quiet and keeping his distance, and he'll end up working himself up about it which will only serve to make Usopp feel worse and. yeah. bit of a vicious cycle with them.

So it's like. Usopp can be weak with both of them, but since I see Sanji as the type of guy who'd be more open with his worries (at least compared to Zoro), there's less of a need to 'perform' and be his best self around him. He's comfortable around Zoro, yes, but he is constantly wanting to show that he won't be a problem to him. On the other hand, while he's more open with Sanji, and Sanji with him, they tend to relate a bit too much with each other and they both have issues with causing trouble for others and being 'deserving of love' so failed attempts at consoling one hurts the other and creates an unpleasant cycle of misery and avoidance before some other crewmate (Zoro) tells them to quit being stupid and just fucking talk to each other.

fabio quartararo // injuries & physical pain

This is such a tangent btw but on the topic of guilt tripping and reblogs... I remember a few years back there were some terrible fires in Greece (and again this year, entire island villages are gone now) and at that time I had family who were caught in them. I can't describe the desperation I felt with these horrible things happening to my family and loved ones in my country. And I remember being frustrated and desperate with how no one around me in America really seemed to give a shit. I remember blogging asking people to PLEASE care please share something please reblog this link for mutual aid please think about the stories and fires etc etc etc. And the thing is I was very much in a state of grief myself, maybe not every word or action was perfectly reasonable, because I don't realistically expect everyone everywhere to care about every tragedy in the world. You can't. Emotionally it's just not possible, especially with all the stuff going on in the states rn too. Yeah it's a lot. It's not like I blog about every tragedy that ever happens either. I understand.

HOWEVER what I also remember was at this time there were a couple mutuals very clearly making vagueposts along the lines of "remember not everyone has the energy to care about everything in the world uwu" while I was posting about family who died and family who were drifting in the ocean for hours as their homes and loved ones burned. Listen. You have to understand sometimes that when a person in grief and frustration with things going on in their countries and communities impacts them very personally beg you to care... It's coming from a place of needing to see that care in the world in general. They're not holding a gun to your head Specifically saying you have to reblog the posts, if you don't have the energy just ignore it.

You don't have to go out of your way saying "um actually I can't care about the horrible stuff you and your family and your country are experiencing rn. I'm too busy focusing on my own stuff so can you be quiet or more reasonable with your grief thanks." Like. Just keep it to yourself then??? Have some fucking sympathy for other people and understand that maybe it's not always logical. The same way you don't have the emotional energy to think about every tragedy in the world, people who've been impacted by them often don't have the emotional energy to handle that alone and may seek somekinda community or solidarity. Idk. It's not about forcing shit on you sometimes it's not about you

Every episode of Beef i'm like these ppl sure are making decisions

"They found each other in the wreckage of optimism, and it took them a decade to decide that hope was not enough to save the Golden Branch from itself. It was in a library, not an armoury, where the Apostolosian became the sword and shield of Integrity, a Divine who’d lost its Candidate. Some climb into their Divines, others deploy them across the battlefield, or fight under the blanket of their shadows. But Integrity demands intimacy. It digs into the flesh of the willing, all metal and promises and penetralia, desperate to create an unbreakable unity. It is afraid, and wounded, and it cannot know the power it gives without seeing it first in the reflection of a Candidate's eyes: the loft, the velocity, the violence. And for the first time in centuries, Integrity doesn’t fear its Candidate. It moves with confidence, in muscle and ambition. It believes in Sokrates Nikon Artemisios." (COUNTER/Weight 22: A Broken Branch)

Great episode to get to after recent palisade happenings. I obviously remember the "Integrity demands intimacy" but there's so much other great stuff here.... "They found each other in the wreckage of optimism" is just incredible.

Edit: Noting the wording of " [...] the Apostolosian became the sword and shield of Integrity" because Integrity literally is both those things - they are the armor Sokrates wears and the weapon they wield - but it positions them here both as a protector of Integrity and someone Integrity acts through (divines & candidates!).

And I love that this gives Integrity pre-Sokrates interiority I had honestly completely forgotten about. "For the first time in centuries, Integrity doesn't fear it's candidate" A divine afraid(!) of what it can do together with it's candidate, the power it gives. And then what Austin describes in pal29 comes to mind, which is like, "if there was a time when Integrity was like, you know, 'Finally someone has come to help me get out of this situation.' That is not what's happening here." It's interesting because that phrasing of if not the current but a past state("that time has come and gone ")... it still sounds like fear a little bit. And that obviously isn't the case anymore (I don't feel like typing out this Austin quote but he said something about the notion of immortality & change that made me real happy. I love that shit) & I'm curious to learn more about this hopefully.

I love Integrity & while I don't think of it as "the good one", it's fate is important to me because is still one of the sickest divines (which is really saying a lot with like, Perennial and Motion et al. around).

Dean’s sitting at the kitchen table eating meatloaf when it all sort of hits – and he’s desperate to remember it exactly how it happened.

With his fork raised halfway to his mouth, a dollop of meat and sauce perched precariously on the tines, his eyes wandered over to where Cas stood by the sink in a pair of ratty pajama bottoms and one of Dean’s old t-shirts. (One of Dean’s old t-shirts, because once Cas gets his shoulders into them they never really sit the same way.)

He’s got soap up to his elbows, scrubbing methodically at the dishes Dean just dirtied, his brow a taught, concentrated line. He’s bringing the same kind of meticulous focus to the dishes that he used to bring to leading the armies of Heaven; that singular kind of attention, both unnerving and admirable. (Dean had once tried to explain that he didn’t need to wash them quite so vigorously, to which Cas had deadpanned, “Do you know how many food particles remain on the dishes you wash, Dean?” It quickly became his job, after that.)

It’s early July. About 6:30pm. The window over the sink is cracked, and the front door is wide open, letting the sound of cicadas and crickets drift in with the summer breeze. The sun’s starting to set behind the field, casting the world in that particular orange glow that has always made something in Dean ache. In the other room, the record player Sam got them for Christmas plays a beat up Janis Joplin record he’d found at a secondhand store in town. The opening chords of Me and Bobby McGee have just started, and the cicadas are humming, and the crickets are singing, and the sun is setting, and Cas is standing in old pajamas washing dishes Dean just used to make them dinner and –

Cas tilts his head.

This isn’t revolutionary. He does it a lot. A very ingrained behavior, some might say. But he isn’t confused, he’s reacting. To the song. He doesn’t react to music the way Dean wants him to, never has, but in his own way, it’s almost like he’s leaning closer to hear it. An infinitesimal thing. The smallest gesture. The corner of his mouth twitches, and Dean has never loved him more than he does at this moment: backlit by a summer sunset in their house in the middle of nowhere, hand washing dishes and listening to Janis Joplin.

Cas turns when the sound of Dean’s fork clattering on the plate sounds, but Dean just scoops him into his arms, chases any worries away with a kiss, and then another, and then one more for good measure. Cas laughs against his mouth, desperately trying to keep his soapy arms away from Dean’s dry clothes. “Dean,” he chides, squirming and chuckling, trying to extract himself from Dean’s grip. “I’m not finished.”

“I’ll get ‘em tomorrow,” Dean promises, peppering sweet little kisses down the line of Cas' throat. He hasn’t shaved in a couple of days. It tickles all the way down. “Love you so much,” he says, because he wants to. Because he’s so full with it he’s overflowing. Because if he doesn’t tell him right now, in this moment, and every moment after this one, he might die. He needs him to know. It’s vital that he knows.

Cas’ laughter warms, and he slides one soapy hand to the back of Dean’s neck, eyebrows raised in challenge when he shudders at the sensation. When Dean doesn’t immediately shoo him away, he slides the other soapy hand up Dean’s arm. “Dean?” He’s not worried, the timber of his voice is honey-smooth and light, but he’s confused. Not that Dean doesn’t tell him often, and loudly, how much he loves him, but to be fair this did kind of come from nowhere, so he understands. It’s just much too much. It’s not enough and it’s everything. It’s everything in the world Dean has ever wanted.

Janis Joplin is singing freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose, and Dean’s arms are loose around Cas’ waist, and he loves him, god he loves him so much, so he kisses him on one corner of the mouth, and then the other. Janis says, nothin’, don’t mean nothin’ hon’ if it ain’t free, no, no – and he rocks their bodies together, slow, to the beat of the music. Cas’ arms come to wind around his neck automatically, and his smile starts to sprawl into something reserved for only the really good moments. Wide and gummy and for Dean – and feelin’ good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues. He presses his forehead to Cas’ and they just sort of sway there like that, smiling at each other like this might be the last chance they ever get.

Cas says – “I love you, Dean,” just as Janis is singing, you know feelin’ good was good enough for me – and it occurs to Dean that he’s dancing in the kitchen with the love of his life. He thinks back to the longest, loneliest nights he spent staring up at the night sky, believing wholly he’d die bloody and alone on the backend of some random hunt, and how the smallest (but loudest) part of him had wished for exactly this. For someone to hold him and see him and dance in the kitchen with him, barefoot and covered in soap.

He kisses the tip of Cas’ nose, the lines under his eyes. Doesn’t realize he’s crying until Cas is wiping tears away with the pads of his thumbs and soothing hands through his hair. He’s crying, too. Laughing and crying and telling Dean he loves him, he loves him so much, he’s loved him from the first moment he saw him.

It settles in Dean then – really settles deep, and true, and good – that he was meant for this. He wasn’t born to be a weapon. Wasn’t born to be a son, or a father, or a brother. Wasn’t born to save the world or to end it – was just meant to dance. His arms were meant to hold. To sway them both around the cheap linoleum floor, to sling low around Cas’ waist and spin them both ‘til they were dizzy with it.

They laugh and kiss and Janis is saying – good enough for me and Bobby McGee – and Dean is thinking – Yeah. Yeah, it really is.

"I blew out a city by myself. A block, decimated." "Intentionally?" "No."

Fun Len Facts

Anxiety

might as well start warning ya'll now...

SUPER DARK TIMES (2017) DIR KEVIN PHILLIPS