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nothing can break the bond between a friend who loves spoilers and a friend who just watched an amazing show and needs to tell someone the entire plot from start to finish
alternatively: nothing can break the bond between a friend who doesnt read and a friend who just read an amazing book and needs to tell someone the entire plot from start to finish
nothing can break the bond between a friend who cannot and will not watch horror but is still interested and a friend who just watched an amazing horror movie and needs to tell someone the entire plot from start to finish
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I think the purest form of love is just wanting someone to notice life with you. "taste this. look at that. hear this song." again and again. until you can't imagine noticing life without them.
"Go back in the cabin," is what the Fisherman tells him, before he has even closed the door behind him.
Simon draws up short; raises his brows, and is a second away from snapping out a reply, when the cold hits him.
"Fucking hell," he yelps, hunching down, wrapping his arm around himself. The sweater is thick, made for the open wind of the sea, but wherever they've made port is freezing.
And windy.
Cold air hits him in the face. Gets through the tight-knit fibres of the sweater, and then through the layers beneath that, and he shivers. His teeth clatter. Something wet lands on his face, sticks to his brows, and he does, in fact, nearly get back in the cabin.
Stubbornness wins.
"Where are we?" he asks, crossing the deck in quick, hurried, strides. He hunches in on himself even further. Shoulders to his ears, fingers bunching fabric around themselves. The cold is ruthless, and Simon knows cold.
The Fisherman sighs; unbuttons the coat he's wearing, thick and water-resistant, and throws it around his shoulders- tugs it together around his front, and Simon would resist, but fuck, it's frigid.
He wriggles his arm into the sleeve, and sinks down into the collar as the Fisherman buttons it up, and folds the other sleeve into itself.
"Not sure," he says, adjusting the coat. "It's not on the map."
Simon furrows his brow.
Leans around the Fisherman, squinting out into the dark, and it's, well- dark. But he can pretty clearly see the shape of land, of islands and peaks, and he raises his eyebrows at the Fisherman. "People missed this?"
The Fisherman doesn't answer. He hums, quiet, thoughtful, and looks out at the dark, too. They stand there, side by side, and the silence lingers, presses heavy between them.
Something cold lands in his hair. Becomes wet. Simon frowns.
"What is that?" he asks, running a hand through his hair and grimacing when it, unsurprisingly, comes away wet. He turns his hand up, squints down through the dark. Now that he's paying attention, small flecks of white are falling through the air, landing on them, the deck; one lands in the palm of his hand, and then it melts into water, a little streak of wet on his skin.
"It's snow."
"Oh," Simon watches another land in his hand, watches it melt again. Another earth thing, he supposes. "What's..." he hesitates. Feels silly, then stupid, and he sighs, wipes his hand on his borrowed coat. It's too big on him.
Suddenly, awfully, he feels like a child.
"It's frozen water," the Fisherman explains, and his voice is to the point, factual. Not a shred of emotion in it. No judgement. No pity. "When it's cold enough, rain comes down as snow instead. Individually, we call them snowflakes."
He reaches out a hand, and one lands in the width of his palm- it doesn't melt immediately, just sits there a moment, and Simon peers down at it.
Then it, too, becomes water.
"Huh," he says, and when he blinks, his eyelashes flutter against something. He frowns, reeling back a little- and then feels wetness there, too, and okay, that's- annoying.
He does suppose it's kind of pretty. He leans his head back, stares up at the sky- there's not much to see, up there, but the snow falling down is something, alright.
POV: The man you drugged and forcibly sent to space to die for the good of humanity returns with a solution thirteen years early in the hands of a god from hit 2003 video game Pokemon: Ruby & Sapphire, which is apparently real. Also there's another alien with him.
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Thank-you to all of my new Internet stranger friends for being so gracious about having my post shoved onto your dashboards. I loved reading all of your kind tags and comments! Both Martin and Bosco have been gone for several years now but for 24 hours, they felt very present in my life. I greatly appreciate this gift. ❤️
Thank you to everyone who commented in their tags or messaged me. Indeed, today is “Martin and Bosco Day”. I originally whimsically blazed this photo on 13 July 2022. I never expected Martin and Bosco to travel so far and make so many new friends. The experience has been such a gift for me.
stop. analyse that text through the lens of its author's intentions and original historical context. okay now take the author out back and kill them dead and analyse that text as though it were published by your mutual yesterday and is in direct conversation the contemporary discourse that's most relevant to your life. okay now pick your favorite angle of interpretation and come up with the strongest possible argument against it. now imagine that the text is your best friend and that it means you well and that you naturally give it every benefit of the doubt because you're on its side and you want the best for it. now imagine that the text wants you dead and it'll eat you if you don't eat it first. now pretend that you found this text locked away in a cave with no evidence of when or where it came from and you have to divine its meaning solely through its internal coherence and nothing else. okay now address the elephant in the room aspect of the text you've been ignoring because you find it boring or confusing or uncomfortable and become the number one expert on it. now spend forty minutes assigning all the characters dnd classes with at least three sentences of reasoning each. okay now do the cha cha slide.
I took my little brother (autistic, mostly non verbal) out and he was using his voice keyboard to tell me something, and this little boy (maybe 4 or 5?) heard him and asked me "Is he a robot??" I tried to explain to him that no, he isn't a robot, he just communicates differently, but my darling brother was in the background max volume "I am robot I am robot I am robot I am robot"
My little brother insisted if I was going to post about him, he wanted a cut of the "profits". When I explained to him that Tumblr isn't monetized, and is pretty pointless, he and my older brother pointed out that he'd still be bringing me "fame and notoriety" if the post got "big". So we agreed, if the post hit 10k notes, which seemed extremely farfetched and silly at the time, I'd take my little brother out for sushi (his favorite food) and let him eat as much as he wants.
I guess God wanted the little robot to enjoy some sushi 🍣 🥲
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I love when someone is explaining instructions to a group I’m in and they look at me and it reminds them to say something about using preferred names/pronouns or that there’s vegan food options available. I go by my given name/pronouns and I’m not vegan but I’m proud that I can provide this service
i wish we were able to talk about women's rights without someone mentioning how much they do or don't want to have sex with them. i don't care if you're a lesbian Stop finding worth in women purely from their perceived attractiveness
"I think women should not be expected to shave for societal respect / to avoid discrimination" "yeah🤤 i love bush" ok well that's not what we're talking about is it.
i hate how many posts about trans women deserving respect always devolve into "I love girldick" or "trans rights but I don't want to date a trans person" because that's entirely unrelated to the topic at hand. you should not respond to feminism with "YESSS I loveeee you because I see you as nothing but a sex object" you people sound like other men I get stuck talking with that end up saying "free the nipple so I can see boobies in public" and thinking they're feminists. why can't we just respect women regardless of your attraction to them or not. why does it need to be brought up in every conversation regarding their rights
well, that went well @gender-premium-tm - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook
