if you think about me

2

Elevator days by Satumwah

A start of a love story

I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately but since it’s Pride month, I thought I’ll make a small comic for you guys! I decided to practice a new comic layout and it turned out quite well. It’s still up in the air if this will be a mini series, since I am still working on Be my Prom Date, but we’ll see :)

pens fans keep telling preds fans to take the L and move on but i’d like to see pens fans gracefully take the W and stop being jerks & unnecessarily rude to preds fans when they point out unfair treatment in the league as well as stop bringing up stupid invalid excuses and reasons in defense of their team when someone as much as mentions the word bias

salvador sobral: *tries to pass an important message about helping refugees but isn’t allowed to bc it’s too political*

salvador sobral: *thanks his sister and the composer luis figueiredo for making the song, giving them all the credit*

salvador sobral: *can’t get excited during the voting bc of his heart condition but when his sister is singing on stage he flails adorably at her performance*

salvador sobral: *during the press conference always refers to THE SONG WINNING - NOT HIMSELF bc that’s it’s the song that really matters*

salvador sobral: *doesn’t consider himself a national hero, he just wants to sing and live a peaceful life, he just hopes the song can make a change*

salvador sobral: *makes a slightly bad worded speech directing at ALL POP MUSIC, and NOT just for Eurovision competitors*

amar pelo dois: *a song with no specified gender, no specified sexuality, just the simplicity and strength of emotions conveyed in song can be applied to almost anyone over the world if you empathize with it, uniting people with a language that not the majority of the world knows about*

tumblr salty people: dude this guy is an arrogant shit saying he’s better than everyone what does he know about eurovision it’s supposed to be glamorous and full of glitter how straight is this guy with his incestuous boring duet ballad that puts anyone to sleep

me: ……….

It looks like Yuuri and Victor are crashing some wedding and Yuuri’s like at the point where he’s tipsy enough to tell really good stories about drunk Phichit but like, not tipsy enough to start going into stripper banquet mode

3

What a great episode I watched it nearly nine hours ago and I’m still yelling g o o d

[The first one is now available as a design on my redbubble!]

Do you ever wonder how much you exist in other people’s lives? I’m always curious if people think of me when a certain song comes on, or when they pass through a certain town. I wonder how many stories I’ve been a part of that I may have forgotten. I wonder if I still exist in the minds of people that I don’t speak to anymore. I wonder how many times a day I pass through someone’s head.

surrender, surrender, but don’t give yourself away 

8

Your mother is never coming back. Your father will never love you. The only reason he wanted you was to use you. You wanted a brother so badly, because then at least you’d have someone to share in the pain. That empty feeling that eats away at your soul and makes you feel like you want to die, day after day after day, it never stops.

Seeing all this stuff about the Alex Tizon discourse is making me wanna throw up. 

Listen. What they did? It’s slavery. We know. We get it.  But it’s not your slavery, it is a product of the broken system which we have been mired in, one which America has been directly complicit in. It’s an unfortunate case, horrifying, not entirely unexpected, but not exactly the norm. The issue here is that foreigners are trying to put words in our mouth and making this discussion about them instead of letting Filipinos process this and have a proper conversation about it without them shutting us down and screaming BUT SLAVERY!!! APOLOGISTS!!! not only that but they’re deliberately misunderstanding our language and honorifics, they are making things out to be something they’re not.

The system is broken. Any Filipino can tell you that. Yelling at us isn’t going to fix it unless you can somehow fix an entire culture with a press of a button and magically remove 400 years of colonialism and oppression, both by foreigners and fellow Filipinos, which has directly contributed to how desperate and helpless our people have become. It just doesn’t work that way.

But what really pisses me off about this? It’s because we’ve already been silenced before. We have been colonized, mistreated, our culture erased and labeled as inferior, our country gutted for resources and labor and this is still happening, just now its happening on more socially acceptable terms. 

Context and the underlying culture does matter, especially when our culture has already been so abused and erased that we have no idea what kind of culture or history we would have had if it hadn’t been beaten out of us by colonizers for 400 years, even the name of our country, our very identity. To this day we still struggle with our identity as a people, with the colonial mentality and nation-wide inferiority complex instilled in us by colonizers.

Keep in mind that every time you yell at us about how culture doesn’t matter, you’re all slavery apologists, without taking into consideration our views, our culture and the system which contributes to this, and how people are still working to correct it despite the fact that progress will likely not come for another 20? 30? years maybe even longer. Progress is slow when you live in a country where every system is designed against you. We are seeing people from a country which oppressed us, attempting to once again erase our narrative and tell us they know better, perhaps then you can forgive us for being wary of foreigners dismissing our culture and views to propagate their own.

Raising My Legson: Never Introduce Your Friends

Legdad: Son, where did you learn that?!
Legson: Uncle Jeoncena told me if I do this I’ll lead a fulfilling life *keeps legdabbing*
Legdad: *shakes fist* JUNGKOOK

You can hear it in the silence

Sometime in 8th year…

Harry isn’t exactly sure what to think at first.

There are glances across the room. Like nothing has changed. Like everything has changed.

It feels familiar and yet… new.

It confuses him.

It’s not like the hate is suddenly gone. Harry still feels it whenever he looks at him. But it’s different now.

He can’t really describe it. He has tried several times. Ron and Hermione have asked him about it. They’ve noticed something is “off”, as they call it.

“It’s not that we’re not glad you aren’t fighting anymore. There’s been enough fighting,” Hermione had said.

“Yeah, it’s just… weird, you know. Now you’re just staring at each other,” Ron  had added.

Harry sighs as he tries to remember what he told them. It was probably something vague. Because… what Ron and Hermione don’t know… Harry has been meeting him. At night. In secret. They would just sit together and talk. But, Harry supposes, not like other people would.

They each take turns talking, while the other listens. Just listens. There are no interruptions, no judgement. They just each let the other talk. It’s been weirdly therapeutic. And also soothing.

Yesterday was Harry’s turn and after talking about his godson and Quidditch and classes, he also recounted one of his nightmares. He never talks about them with anyone. He doesn’t want to hear what they mean or that maybe he should see a mind healer. He knows perfectly well what they mean. So, simply talking about it, having the opportunity to get it out in the open and out of his system… it’s freeing. Harry also never appreciated before, how much it means when somebody listens, really just listens to him. It is a whole new experience.

As Harry makes his way to the tower nobody wants to go to anymore, he wonders what he will talk about tonight. Sometimes he talks about his mother. Never about his father. Sometimes he doesn’t say anything at all and they just sit there in silence. At first, Harry thought this was a waste of time. But it was in that silence, he realized that something really is different between them. It’s as if something between them has… shifted.

So when Harry sees Draco enter the tower, his body doesn’t go rigid. It relaxes. When Draco sits down beside him and their fingers touch, Harry doesn’t pull away. He welcomes the warmth. When Draco doesn’t say anything, Harry isn’t annoyed. He understands.

It’s in that moment, as Draco lays his head on Harry’s shoulder and Harry puts an arm around his waist, that he knows. He never thought he could be this sure. But he is. He knows.

He’s in love.

And it makes him smile.