i don't even know this is terrible

i still think one of the main things i dont understand about being super pro life in every context is why would you even want someone to carry another living thing in their body for 9 months when they dont want to and literally dont have the capacity to care about it? i know if i wasn’t able to get my abortion when i did i would not have fucking cared for that thing. i was drinking and smoking and popping pills and i wasn’t willing to stop. you can judge me for it all you like and call me a terrible person for that (maybe i deserve it) but why would you want someone you find terrible and selfish and irresponsible to go through pregnancy? i did not and still would not believe in my 17 year old self to just magically grow up bc i was pregnant and couldn’t get an abortion. i wouldn’t have told anyone and would have just kept trying to have a miscarriage. i know this isn’t the case for everybody but when you want all abortion banned, these are the ppl you would be forcing to be pregnant too. and while i still personally care more about the women who are pregnant, you’d also just be making the babies suffer in the long run too and that’s if they even survive 

i can’t imagine what she’s going through right now…..a fan did an interview with a news station just now and talked about how ariana’s mom literally pulled fans that were in the first few rows backstage along with security to get them to safety. her family and team saved fans lives tonight. absolutely nobody deserves this and i just know ariana’s taking it all to heart. she’s going to be traumatized by all of this. i feel so terrible for everybody involved i don’t even know how to begin to put it into words

one of the reasons mental illness sucks so fucking much is because people around you can literally tell you again and again that they love you, that they think you’re cool and funny, that they support you in every way, that you’re talented or intelligent, and no matter how many times they say it you’ll always cringe and shake your head and say “no, no i’m not, really” but the SECOND someone says one bad thing about you, even just once. You believe it completely. 

So. Life Is Strange. huh.

Like on one hand it’s immediately obvious that this is written by a completely different team with completely different priorities. The original game dealt with sexuality, vaguely and at arm’s length. Beyond The Storm is actually about it. Chloe is unambiguously gay this time. She has gay thoughts and gay feelings and does gay things for gay reasons. 

Deck Nine’s approach and execution here is just fundamentally better than Dontnod’s. It’s a better written game – more charming and more honest. And with the rewind mechanic gone, the narrative design gets to branch out into new interesting places. The backtalk system is fun, the conversations are more intricate and organic, there’s even a whole D&D game-within-a-game. It’s inventive and it shows a lot of craft.

BUT. I feel like the whole thing just can’t escape from the shadow of the first game. We know these characters will end up. Rachel Amber will die. She will be brutally butchered and left to rot in a dump. Chloe will die too, at least according to the clearly signalled “real ending” of the original. The romance, however well Deck Nine executes it, will inexorably lead to a shitty pointless bury-your-gays tragedy.

The sadness of Chloe being abandoned by Max pervades this game: the painfully one-sided text message chain, the journal entries, the way Chloe checks her mailbox every day for letters that we know will never come. If the events of Life Is Strange had “really happened” then all this would eventually be resolved by Max returning and rebuilding the relationship. But we know Chloe’s true fate: it’s to be shot to death in a bathroom, to die alone and unloved, to never know Max was sorry, to never be able to express her feelings and have them reciprocated, to never know what happened to Rachel, to never even believe that she deserved to be alive. It’s a fucking terrible and bleak end for that character, and every honest human moment in the prequel just makes it feel cheaper and emptier and more cruel.

There was a sucking empathy void at the heart of the original Life Is Strange, one that ultimately consumed everything good about that story. I hope it doesn’t consume this one as well.


“You know, I was proud when you took the name Nightwing. And now, a little part of me is kind of sad you gave it up. The great rebuilder, the catalyst of change, eternally reborn to start anew. But then, I think there’s a more appropriate name for that title now. Grayson.”

  • psychic: *reads my mind*
  • me: radical, magical, liberal art, gender is a construct, tear it apart, wearable art and terrible art, it's the motherfucking world is unbearable art, this part, this is for us, don't need a museum this club is enough, for a revolution with the best intentions, beauty with a twist, just an intervention, yes ma'am, I'll take that dollar, doesn't even matter I'm a Fullbright scholar, I'd rather be modest, but I need to show it, there's a lot of pretty girls, but a queen better know shit, femmes, rebels, meddle with gender, realness bores me i'm a better pretender, Brooklyn witches, revolutionary, come up with a read that's better than harry
  • psychic: what the fuck
  • Yuu: I don't care about what happens to the world so long as I can protect my family
  • Mika: Yuu-chan, no. This is a terrible idea...
  • Crowley: I agree. Yuu, listen to your boyfriend
  • Mika: yes, listen to- wait, boyfriend?
  • Crowley: yeah, I'm talking about you
  • Mika: but we're not-
  • Crowley: are you trying to tell me you two aren't dating? But you behave like an old married couple
  • Narumi: I know right? It's kinda gross even
  • Shinoa: I actually thought they were a couple too
  • Yuu: *mumbles* I thought so too, actually. I'm kind of hurt.
  • <p> <b>Bronn:</b> So, how long have you been in love with Brienne?<p/><b>Jaime:</b> That is disgusting. And wrong. I don't even get- why would- I've never been in love with anyone, ever. It's none of your - you have - the nerve, the audacity - Brienne is my- she's my- and she is terrible, face-wise, and how-how do i know, frankly, that you're not in love with her? Maybe you are. Maybe you're trying to throw me off? Hmm? Check and mate, Bronn, check and mate.<p/></p>

things I laugh & then get sad about:

alicia and bob were both pretty prominent celebrities, so it’s very likely that her pregnancy was closely followed. I can’t even imagine all the jokes about the beautiful/perfect baby they would make, all the people reading every magazine article about the pregnancy. poring over every photo of alicia’s gorgeous maternity clothes. bad bob does about a million interviews about how excited he is, how ready he is to be a dad.

and then jack is born.

Keep reading


3.10 part 5 - Bånder: The three times Isak broke eye contact, closed his eyes, or averted his gaze + the three times Even doesn’t let Isak let go of him

  • jesper: how long have you had a crush on inej?
  • kaz: that's disgusting. and wrong. i don't even get - why would - i've never had a crush on anyone. it's none of your - you have - the nerve, the audacity, inej is my investment. and she is terrible, face-wise. and how - how - do i know, frankly, that you don't have a crush on her? maybe you do. maybe you're trying to throw me off? hmm, check and mate.

anonymous asked:

Could you write something about our!Ciel and real!Ciel's meeting after not seeing each other for 4 years after the fire, with real!Ciel as a less yandere brother?

Hi anon, it’s been a bit less than three weeks since you sent this in, I think? 

Well, I hope you get a chance to read it. And that you find it at least mildly satisfactory. :)

Rating: G+

Warnings: Might give you some feels. 

‘’I’ve missed you,’’ he says, and the words come out not quite right, sounding more like an accusation than anything else. It doesn’t make them any less true.

‘’I know,’’ the other responds, eyes fixed to the ground. ‘’I know, I—I’ve missed you too.’’

A snort, then, ‘’Is this the part where we kiss and make up?’’

The corners of the other’s lips curl bitterly upwards. ‘’No,’’ he says, ‘’I don’t think so. You died because of me.’’

The truth, once spoken, weighs heavy on them. They know it can’t be fixed, something once lost can never be regained after all, but he’s here, he’s back, he’s standing less than three inches away, and they miss each other. So much it hurts.

‘’No,’’ he says, voice filled with pure determination, ‘’I died because of them.’’

‘’I let you die, then.’’

Silence. Silence so loud it’s almost deafening.

His mouth twists into something unpleasant. ‘’That you did,’’ he says finally.

‘’I’m–sorry. If it means anything, I truly am sorry.’’ The other’s gaze remains downcast.

‘’Look at me.’’

‘’I can’t.’’

‘’Look at me!’’

Words have never before hurt this much. Look at me. Such a simple sentence, such a simple act. All he has to do is lift his head up and open his eyes. And then he’d see. The consequences of his sins, the damage he’s caused. He’d see them all.

He’d see his brother again.

‘’I can’t,’’ he repeats. His eyes sting with unshed tears. ‘’I can’t. I can’t, I’m sorry. I’m—‘’ The rest of his words get drowned out by sobs. For the first time in years, he cries. He sheds the tears he didn’t shed when he saw his brother’s corpse sitting lifeless atop a bloodstained altar; he sheds the tears he didn’t shed when he saw his parents’ names engraved in cold slabs of marble; he sheds the tears he didn’t shed the day he brought a red dress inside the church. ‘’I’m sorry,’’ he wails, the words pitifully insufficient.


A pair of spindly arms wrap tightly around the crying child. He buries his face in the nape of his brother’s neck. ‘’I’m sorry.’’  

‘’Stop. It’s all right. You don’t have to carry this all on your own now. I’m here, and I’m never leaving your side again.’’ It’s all he can offer right now.

He hopes it will be enough. 

A final sob, a sniffle, a tightening of arms around his neck. Then, ‘’I know. I missed you.’’

‘’I missed you too.’’

… … … … … …

A/N: Thank you for the request, anon. Writing this made for a nice change of pace. I hope me choosing not to use names doesn’t make it too confusing, I tried to keep it linear. 

Quick Fic inspired by the golf overrun 😂


She shifts against him, legs tangled with his as they lay beneath the soft, leopard print blanket that Deeks inexplicably had conveniently folded on the back of his couch. It feels like home, she thinks - the warmth between their bodies, the way her head fits tucked neatly under his chin, the way his heart beats steady as a drum beneath her palm. She splays her fingers, letting each of them take in the smoothness of his chest, his toned muscles strong and masculine, yet quivering beneath her touch.

(Wait, when had her hand snaked its way under the fabric of his shirt?

…Not important. She likes it there and he’s not complaining.)

He says her name again, a low rumble that sifts through her hair just as easily as his fingers. “Kens…”

She yawns; God, it feels so good, her body against his like this, just the two of them. In that moment, there’s no one else in the world. Phones off and in the other room, they’re entirely unplugged.

Except for the tv. And it seems that’s what’s causing Deeks’ confusion. “Do we like golf?”

It’s a good question, Kensi thinks - after all, the movie they’d been watching (well, the movie they’d mostly missed because their mouths kept finding each other, stolen kisses on a lazy Sunday afternoon. “I … I’ve never really thought about it?” She murmurs, furrowing her brow.

“Because we’re watching golf, and I don’t know how long we’ve been watching golf,” he replies. Kensi’s sleepy mind can’t find an answer in the comfortable fog she’s lost within before her fiancé continues. “And have you ever noticed how many sports are really just grown men playing with balls?”

It’s such a Deeks question that Kensi can’t help but snort. “You grown men do like playing with your balls, don’t you?” She smirks.

Deeks grins. “Touché, Kensalina. Touché.”

It’s another five, ten, twenty minutes, hell maybe it’s an hour before the question resurfaces, this time from Kensi’s lips. “So…do we actually like golf?”

“I really don’t think so…”

Kensi hums, as if it makes the most sense in the world. “So why are we watching it?”

Pure Deeks. “Because the remote is all the way over there,” he says, pointing arbitrarily. “And you’re trapping me with your body.”

She can hear the grin in his words and she stops herself just before whispering that there’s a part of him she’d like to trap somewhere. It’s clever and very much worth a touché, but it would also make him far too cocky.

Instead, she says nothing just yet. Maybe he’s not willing to move, but she is. A devilish sparkle in her eyes, she shifts atop him, rising to straddle him. The look in his eyes as she meets his gaze is momentarily surprised, but it’s quickly overtaken by desire, desire that quickly pools in the part of him between her toned thighs.

She smirks down at him, touching first her forehead to his, then bumping his nose with hers. “Just because the remote is all the way over there doesn’t mean we have to watch golf…”

God, he loves the way her mind works as she covers his mouth with hers, a slow, seductive kiss that steadily stokes the fire, heating him from the inside out as her hands begin to roam.

And his are not motionless; with a quick motion, he’s got her out of her shirt (well, his, really), naked from the waist up. “God, I love you,” he murmurs against her lips as they reclaim his.

It’s not long before nothing separates them; the blanket covers them loosely as her hips grind with his; his hands gather her hair, skimming through, tousling it as she kisses him, shifting her core just exactly where it needs to be, but not quite there yet. Deeks moans softly, the heat of her against him making him throb, desperate to slip inside of her.

And then she lifts her hips, hovering but for a moment before slowly sliding him home, where she needs him most. “I think you just scored a hole-in-one,” she teases, shivering as he reaches the deepest parts of her.

He can barely laugh; God, it’s so terrible yet so clever at the same time. “Touché, baby. Touché.”

  • what she says: i'm fine
  • what she means: at the end of "lion" it's revealed that saroo's brother died the very same night he disappeared, and i wonder. what if, in searching for work, he died and that's why he never returned for his little brother? it's just so tragic to think that he was trying to protect his family (and therefore saroo) and he met with his death then. but, even worse, what if he actually came back after work, and upon realizing he had lost saroo, he started to search so desperately around the station he was then hit and killed right there and then? the last thing he might have done was, as saroo suspected, scream his name, search for him, miss him, be worried about him. it breaks my heart that they never said in the movie, and i don't even know if they know. i wish i had answers. what a terrible thing not to know. poor guddo, poor saroo.
  • Marinette: Do you have a crush on Chloe?
  • Alya: I dont even get- why would- i've never had a crush on anyone, anywhere, its none of your- you have- the nerve, the audacity, Chloe is my enemy, technically. And she is terrible, face-wise. And how- how- do I know, frankly, that you don't have a crush on her? Maybe you do. Maybe you're trying to throw me off? Hmm check and mate.
  • Wonwoo: How long have you been in love with S.Coups?
  • Woozi: That's disgusting. And wrong. I don't even get- why would- I've never loved anyone. Anywhere. It's none of your- you have- the nerve, the audacity, S.Coups is my enemy, technically. And he is terrible, face-wise. And how- how- do I know, frankly, that you're not in love with him? Maybe you are. Maybe you're trying to throw me off? Hmm check and mate.