when watson tells him he has to return to the hotel to console a dying englishwoman, & holmes knows this may be the last time they will see each other, his face softens into the slightest of wistful smiles, like he's seeing all the things he loves about watson, his kindness, bravery, loyalty, trust, and then he just turns to go! like he's already said his own secret little goodbye that watson doesn't know about & now it's time to move on to the next thing
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its kinda crazy that yall will apply real world politics and situations to gotham when it comes to jason and his ‘vigilantism’, but never choose to take that angle when analyzing any other bat character’s
brother eye from batman? hello? does constant nonconsensual surveillance seem like an ethical way to keep an eye on supposed allies or stop crime in real life? does beating people up until they comply with u (under fucking duress) seem like the ethical way to produce testimonies and confessions?
but nah, one speech from jason in utrd and yall are up in arms about how nothing he’s saying is actually conducive to lowering crime rates.
at the end of the day, it doesn’t fucking matter who’s right and who’s wrong regarding these morals in real life because the dc universe is so fucking far from reality in the crime that the justice system has to deal with. there is no point in arguing a reality standpoint if its not going to be applied to vigilantism in the bat comics as a whole.
and on the topic of fiction, the willful ignorance as to how jason’s story also portrays a victims revenge/justice is just boring at this point. how are themes in a narrative not coming through to you. especially when doing literature analysis for any of these comics.
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FAIRYHAOS TURNS ONE YEAR OLD ?!??? 🤍
good morning guess what!!!! today marks the 1-year anniversary of user fairyhaos 🥰🥰
crazy to think that one whole year ago, i was making this account and posted a svt hc for the first time and, now, 365 days later, ive grown and become a blog that's frankly astonishing in size. i just wanted to say thank you to all of u for being here with me! i did not expect this blog to grow at the startling and amazing rate in which it did, and im so grateful because it's because of all of you that this has happened. <3
from little platonic headcanons to follower events to having a tracked tag to even making gifs now (!!! how did that even happen pls) ive learned so much during this year alone, and it's been utterly incredible to go on this journey with all of you 🫶 you all mean so much to me, truly.
i was thinking of maybe doing something for this day, but im gonna be honest, i couldn't think of anything 😭 but just know that i love u all a great deal and if there's anything that u wanna do to celebrate, im all ears!! you're all so, so precious to me, and i really do want to do something to celebrate this blog's birthday!
and ofc, is this really an celebration post by fairyhaos if i don't talk about my moots?? you've all made the experience here even more wonderful and im rather ia these days (cries) but i miss u and im thinking of all of u always ^_^
@etherealyoungk @weird-bookworm @rubywonu @blue-jisungs @haecien @slytherinshua @icyminghao @wheeboo @eternalgyu @y-ves @trblsvt @idubiluv @odxrilove @arafilez @soonhoonsol @dalkyeom @gyuswhore @hannieheartuu @h-ao @hannyoontify @jeonsupershy @jeonwon-wonwoo @kyeomyun @leech4ns @chwedout @vcrnons @boosari @meowonhao-main @mesanthropi @mirxzii @17isrighthere @wonwoonlight : u are all the people who mean theee most to me, and im so grateful to have known all of you!! 💗
and how can i forget everyone else? thank you to everyone: all of my readers, all of my anons - named or not - and anyone who's ever interacted w me, my fics, my gifs, anything at all.
one year with this blog... insane. you've all brought me unspeakable amounts of joy in this year alone, and i hope to be able to give that back to u all tenfold in the future 🫶
💌 - yena xx
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the tardis keeps all the rooms she’s had. whenever someone comes to stay, their room stays ready for them, tucked away. when they leave, it remains, something for her to remember them by. if they come back, it’s waiting for them like they never left. sometimes the doctor wanders late down the corridors, unable to sleep. sometimes they find themselves walking down a hallway like a memory and sometimes the doors are open. inside is a piece of the past intact, with the air still fresh, like their friend just left and might return any minute
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The night before Iwaizumi leaves for California, his mother gives him a gift. It's wrapped delicately in yellow wrapping paper.
Iwaizumi has a feeling he knows what it is.
"I know it's last minute," She says, sitting next to him on his bed in his childhood bedroom. "Your bags are all packed, I don't expect you to make room to take it with you or anything, of course." She watches him, hands folded in her lap. "Ah, and you'll probably think it's embarrassing any-"
"Mama," Iwaizumi interrupts, fighting back a little smile at her fretting. "Let me at least open it before you try minimizing it."
"Right, right." She laughs, waving her hand. "Of course. Go on then. Open it."
Iwaizumi doesn't take his time tearing it open.
It's a book. A scrapbook, Iwaizumi guesses. It has his name handwritten in both kanji and hiragana on the front. It's a little smaller than the other scrapbooks his mom has on her shelf. The binding is a dark forest green.
The only sound in the room is the flipping of pages. Iwaizumi takes his time to study each page, his chest feeling a little tighter the more he flips through the book.
Iwaizumi knows his mothers have always taken lots of pictures, ranging from polaroids to digital. His aunties too but he still finds himself surprised by the amount Sachiko has collected in the book. Including pictures she must have received from other people because neither of his moms were present at said event.
The pages are simple. Each one has about two to five (depending on the sizes of them) pictures on it. They're decorated with stickers and little notes written in his mom's graceful handwriting neatly squeezed where they can fit and still be legible.
Notes like "you gave your poor mother a fright the first time you came into the house with one of these" under a photo of Iwaizumi proudly showing off a jar with a beetle in it and "i'm surprised you convinced tooru to go, lol" by a photo from a fishing trip Iwaizumi took with the other third years.
"This is one of my favorite pictures," His mom says, watching as Iwaizumi flips pages over his shoulder. She points to a picture of the two of them when they first moved into the house. He was only three. They're sitting on the front steps together, neither of them are looking at the camera. He has his arms wrapped around hers and is looking up at her as she laughs.
And he breaks.
"Oh, Hajime." She says softly, pulling him into a tight hug. He tucks his face into the crook of her neck and she strokes his hair as he cries. He feels like he's five again, crying because he accidentally squashed a bug when he was trying to catch it. Ten, crying because he was sick with the flu and thought he was on the brink of death. Thirteen, crying because he and Oikawa had a fight and he thought he would never talk to him again.
Eighteen, crying because he's leaving the country tomorrow and it suddenly hit him that he doesn't know what he's going to do without his mom.
He doesn't say that though.
He doesn't tell her that he's scared, scared that he's going to crash and burn in California, scared that his friendship with Oikawa won't survive the distance, scared that everything is going to go wrong because he left.
Or that he's really going to miss her.
(Maybe he should have told her that.)
-
That night before Iwaizumi spends his last night in his childhood room, he wraps the scrapbook up in the hoodie that Oikawa gave him and tucks them both into one of his bags.
He thinks about where he's going to put it in his dorm room when he gets to California.
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