best-bullshit

i cannot believe i just witnessed, with my own two eyes, the whitewashing hollywood self-worshipping movie win best movie, give a bullshit speech from ab unch of white people on “diversity”

and then turn out to be w RONG. TURN OUT TO BE THE WRONG ENVELOPE.

BECAUSE ACTUALLY MOONLIGHT, A MOVIE ABOUT BLACK FOLKS AND BLACK GAY LOVE AND RELATIONSHIPS, WON BEST MOVIE.

Louis already has someone who...

“is there for him”

“is one of the most genuinely caring people in his life”

“is a stable…influence in his life whom he trusts”

“genuinely cares about him as a friend” 

its been said before but this is a daily reminder that mental illness does not excuse toxic behavior

it can offer an explanation, but you cannot treat someone with cruelty and then just like “well sorry it’s my mental illness i can’t help it”

i don’t have a solution, because i know that mental illness by nature can be difficult or impossible to control, but do not let a friend or partner or parent or anyone be a dick to you and say that you have to put up with it because that’s just how they are

or even worse, guilt trip you about being upset with them

i am saying this as someone with a diagnosed mental illness that im on medication for:

mental illness does NOT give anyone the right to treat you badly

and if someone tries to excuse their toxic behavior by claiming it’s mental illness and they cannot help it, that’s a red fucking flag

It’s so funny how Trump gives one speech that is considered “presidential” and people are fucking falling over themselves to praise him. Y’all will praise his tone and presentation and say “finally Trump shows himself to be presidential enough for the job,” while ignoring that his speech was filled with inaccuracies and basically everything he’s said leading up to yesterday has been fucking awful. But what do I expect from people who paint a war criminal POS like George W. as just a cute, funny old man who did his best or whatever apologist bullshit you have for him now. 

Do you ever have those days where you just want to give up? Just give up and quit your job and stay home sleeping for a few months and live quietly? And not have to deal with other people’s crap?

the last time i visited my mom, she asked me to take my sister to her flute lesson because she needed to crash. flute teacher lives in this really nice house with a really adorable big fluffy white dog – teacher warns me that the dog is a rescue and had been abused by a previous owner so he doesn’t like new people and it’s not anything personal. so i’m not trying to pet or get in his space, just doing that silly pet-talk at dog level from across the room: ‘whos a gorgeous dog!! what a sweetie!’ it’s out of habit more than anything, and i don’t want to seem threatening and scare the poor thing. dog immediately bounds right over, tail ablur, licking and sniffing and leaning into my hand for pets. then he’d lap around the house and bolt back over for more pets. for my sisters whole lesson, i had a very insistent new friend who needed 100% of my attention at all times, especially in pet form. and i’ll tell you, no one’s approval has ever meant more to me than the approval of that abused dog. 

In The Silence I Hear You

Resbang 2016

CLICK FOR ART BY @amberlehcar (warning: spoilers for chapter six!) 

CLICK FOR ART BY @eerna 

It’s been so long since Soul could hear his own music. Even longer since he cared, after what music did to Wes and his family. But when his childhood friend Maka returns like a tempest to Death City and demands he accompany her in an upcoming competition, Soul must decide whether the pain of reclaiming his sound is worth the rush of playing with her again. A Your Lie in April AU.

Rating: T

Warnings: Depression, major character death, some gore, some suicidal ideation

This entire project would be utter garbage without my betas the #Jortsquad. @zxanthe @silly-twin-stars @makapedia @fabulousanima @sojustifiable @professor-maka @marshofsleep and @adulterclavis, thank you, thank you. From denim jackets and :leggy: to music recs and late night conversations that have actually changed my life, you guys have helped me grow as both a writer and a person, and I will be forever grateful. I cannot thank you enough for your wit, friendship, memes, and incredible ability to put up with my near-constant stream of puns. Stay gold, ponyboys.

Also, huge thanks and love to both of my artists! Holy shit did they outdo themselves. Jo’s digital art pretty much made me weep, and listening to Amber’s voice acting scene was a little like bliss. I could not have wished for better partners, and I’m so glad they both could join me on this crazy journey. Many hugs and yelly tags to each of them.

Enjoy!


Darkness coats the inside of his eyes, slithers down his throat, runs tar-like through his veins. He can hear it catching up to him, long, crackling, inexorable footsteps beating a measured counterpoint to his frantic heart. Small hands materialize from the shadows to grope at his face and shove fingers down his throat, choking him with the taste of ash and dust.

Sprint. Jump. Duck. The world is reduced to spurts of action as his thoughts scatter like birds from a field, even as the ear-wrenching sound of squealing wires gets louder behind him. Terror propels him through rotting skeletons and over piles of dead crows, every instinct screaming that if he doesn’t move faster, he’ll meet a fate far worse than death.

He’s always too late.

Bursting from a thicket with bleeding clefs for leaves, Soul runs to the edge of a sheer cliff, small rocks skittering into the inky abyss below. The world goes quiet, the kind of sharp silence after a gunshot, and then he’s being strangled by hands with piano keys for fingers, black sludge leaking through the spaces between them.

“Why?” the voice whispers hoarsely, as it always does. “Why me, but not you?”

Scrabbling in vain against the ivory hands that hold him suspended, Soul cries, “I don’t know! I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know!” Despair shoves the terror out of his system and he goes limp in the creature’s grip, will to fight back trickling away at the sudden realization of who it is that hunts him so methodically.

“You abandoned us,” it rasps, carrying Soul to the edge of the cliff.

The world yawns below him as he’s dangled over the cliff face, panic coursing through him while he squirms and twists so he can make one last plea. “I didn’t mean to! Wes, please!”

Maggots skitter through the exposed bones of Wes’s cheeks, empty sockets leering where blue eyes once regarded him so gently. Jutting between the tendons in his neck is a violin bow, the one pictured in the papers on the night he won the Death City Symphony Competition, and Soul has to swallow another sob because that was the photo they used in his obituary, too.

Flies buzz around his face as Wes says, “Sorry isn’t good enough,” and drops him.

All Soul can hear is the low growling roar of a huge waterfall, and suddenly he’s plunged underwater, choking as liquid pours into his lungs. Except it isn’t water, not really, and it’s only with his last bit of consciousness that he realizes he’s swimming in blood as black as the dark side of the moon.

Read the rest on AO3 / FFN

do you see what i do?

summary: Shiro has pretty clear intentions; Allura clearly has no idea what’s going on. Or, The 5 times Allura was completely oblivious to Shiro’s crush, and the one time she wasn’t.
notes: shallura hell is reading all the fics on tumblr/ao3 3 times and still not being satisfied so you have to write your own

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1.

The original mission objective was to liberate the small planet from a tyrannical government–which, at first, just seemed to be a normal level of corrupt, but after some digging they discovered Galra influences as the driving force behind it all. Some rich, lucky power-monger had discovered he could save his own skin but selling out his people.


Shiro kept a pretty short list of things he hated, but sellouts definitely made it on to it.


Liberating such a small planet surely wouldn’t attract too much Galra attention, and at the least it would just be a thorn in Zarkon’s side. Personally, Shiro would rather put a spear, or a handful of blaster bolts into said side, but beggars can’t be choosers.


They didn’t really go into it with a plan; at least, Shiro didn’t. The esteemed princess of Altea, however, got a certain gleam in her eye that sent shivers down his spine. Terrifying and powerful was a good luck on her. (Technically, everything was a good look on her, but that was more because Shiro tended to look at her as if she hung the stars than anything else.)

Keep reading

I honestly believe that if given the opportunity Kent Parson and I would be friends in real life.
I know a lot of people see characters and think “I love this person but if I knew them in real life I would hate them”
I pretty much had the opposite reaction “I hate this person’s choices but I know in real life we would probably be bffs” and I don’t know what that says about me as a person.