there are ghosts out in the rain tonight

A character trait/dynamic that I'm endlessly compelled by is someone dealing with (or, like, failing to) being the child of people who were too busy being good people to have the time and attention to be good parents. This can be anywhere from 'was a public defender who gave a shit working 60 hour weeks with basically no vacations' to 'left their family behind to join the revolution/war effort and is now a universally beloved martyr-hero who saved/remade the world with their final breath' on the groundedness spectrum. The important thing is a viscerally felt but confused and ugly mess of longing, resentment, and guilt about feeling the resentment.

What a time to be alive.

I am 100% cooler with this knowing that the spear-thrower realized “oops maybe I shouldn’t have done that” and tried to make it right, and that the guy who the drone belonged to was cool with it

Everything about this post blesses those involved with a +4 on their next Today is Good Day roll

Happy Ulf Hath Slain A Dragon With His Spear!

I do think it's kind of funny how john green wrote a book about tuberculosis that brought a lot of renewed attention to the subject and he's since become the darling of the tb world, speaks at tb conferences, my dad and every other tb researcher I know is absolutely smitten with him, and they'll be like "we love this guy! have you heard of him??" and I have to be like well yes, I have. for other reasons

really losing my patience for any 'feminist' statement to the tune of 'we need feminism because women fill a fundamentally different and necessary role than men and will be better at doing x y or z'. like actually i think we need feminism because it is an unbearable death of the spirit by inches to exist in a world where you are not seen as a fully realized human being because of a single cultural determination, and because a world that enshrines such things creates systems that are fundamentally sick to the core

My greatest tragedy is that I literally always want a nap, right up until ten pm, when I feel utterly alive and electrified.

It’s 10:31pm and I will live forever. What do you mean I have to be at my doctor’s appointment at 7:10am. Who are you. Why are you Satan

Hey so I know we All Know This but I will NEVER be over a character being feverish and delirious and making No sense. I will never be over a glittery-eyed, shivering, distressed character weakly gripping another's arm and asking them questions they don't know the answer to, and probably don't mean anything at all. I will never be over characters calling out for people either long gone or right next to them, but unrecognizable in their delirium. I will never be over a character crying in frustration and fear over something in their head they can't explain to whoever is helping them, and all they can do in return is stroke their hair and shush them gently.

They did this to my beautiful wife harrowhark nonagesimus for 500+ pages </3

Being critical of your interests is sooooo fun when you have the critic gene & then you sound kind of insane to the average tv watcher when you're like "this is my favorite show, It's Racist" & then you try to clarify what you mean & get that [Speech (legendary) - FAILURE] "the racism is really interesting though"

[Speech (legendary) - SUCCESS] I find the sociopolitical context of pulpy old sci-fi born circa the civil rights movement really fascinating to analyze especially when it was progressive for its time but still reveals the writers' unexamined biases in the subtext

unethical nonmonogamy where god is the third

This is the plot of Harrow the Ninth

The crazy thing is, ninety-nine times out of a hundred, if you asked me on any given day "Would like to see a picture of some genitals?" my answer would be "😰 No, that's... No, thank you. I'm okay, actually." I have nothing but the utmost respect for people who do engage with the penis side of the internet, but personally, I've spent the better part of two decades doing all I can NOT to have pictures of dick and balls or sexy bikini babe buttcheeks blasted onto my retinas constantly. And yet... to be denied the penis? To have a jumped up pile of javascript tell me, a grown adult with an air fryer and an outstanding council tax bill, that I cannot be trusted to withstand the sight of a bare nipple unless I let it scan my drivers' license? I will move heaven and earth to see that fucking nipple, friend. I will walk a thousand miles barefoot on hot coals before I give you big brother bitches my passport number. A thousand miles through the desert with five VPNs just to press my face up against the glass and see the last uncensored picture of two My Little Pony Characters sixty-nining each other, and I don't even want! to look at it! But I will! I must! for the sake of our fucking democracy!