I didn’t actually think Taylor Swift’s line about “the asylum where they raised me” must be about her actual childhood (though I don’t see how it’s obvious it wasn’t, it’s a fine interpretation). I simply don’t think it’s okay to use that as a metaphor or offhand story beat when you have never experienced it
1 note
·
View note
This whole submarine situation is a grim reminder that safety features are there for SAFETY rather than inconvenience, and that regulations are often written in blood.
The juxtaposition of the company going from "isn't it great that we built such a cost effective submersible without having to deal with clunky equipment or pesky regulations" to "we regret to inform you that 5 passengers including our CEO are sealed inside a death pod with very little chance of rescue" is absolutely haunting but is an outcome that you could have seen coming from miles away unlike the submersible due to a lack of safety features
4K notes
·
View notes
When you ask Steve Harrington what his first memory of Eddie Munson is, he will say it was in Mrs. Click's class. Yeah, he didn't know Robin then, but it was hard not to notice someone like Eddie.
Steve remembers it being a Monday, his parents just left for some random country. Mrs. Click was not in a good mood that day.
Steve remembers her stopping mid-lecture and staring at the curly head bowed down three seats behind Steve's left. He's resting his head on his arms, body limp.
"Munson. I don't teach so you can sleep." Mrs. Click impatiently says, her fingers tapping against the plastic table.
Eddie doesn't move, Mrs. Click squints harder and says a little louder, "Eddie Munson."
It's so obvious Eddie was sleeping, but what he does next cements him in Steve's memory.
Eddie jolts a little. It's a small unnoticeable movement, before he finally raises his head. He smiles at Mrs. Click before saying, "Thank you, Jesus. Amen." and does the sign of the cross.
"I am sorry, Mrs. Click. It was time for my morning prayer." Eddie says, a small innocent smile on his face.
And it's so freaking ridiculous. Steve remembers shaking his head and biting down a laughter.
It's even more ridiculous when Mrs. Click nods approvingly, saying, "That's okay. Next time don't do it in class."
The next time Steve and Eddie get the chance to talk, somewhere in between broken bottles and running from the police, Steve tries to joke as he says to Eddie, "I bet you forgot to do your morning prayer. That's why this is all happening."
It's lame. But eh, it's worth it when Steve hears Eddie laugh for the first time in two days.
4K notes
·
View notes
you’re watching the maury show on your computer when katsuki marches into your room without a word and flops down next to you on your bed.
“ hello to you, too.” you snort. his words are muffled by your sheets but you’re about 90% sure he told you to shut up, you ignore it.
he lays face down on your bed for a while not saying anything and you know he’s had a long day and wants to be close to you without actually talking. you don’t mind, you’ll give him his space until he reaches out himself.
and he does after a little bit, turning his head around to face you as he looks from you to your computer screen, eyes focusing on the woman screaming that the man she cheated on her husband with was 100% not the father of her baby, mixed with the cheers of the audience.
he looks at you and raises a brow “ what’s happenin ?”
“ lady cheated on her husband with his brother.” you respond.
“ his brother ?” he repeats. his eyebrows furrow and you know he’s hooked. if there’s one thing katsuki loves but will never admit he does, it’s trash tv.
you nod, grinning somewhat evilly “his brother. now they’re trying to find out which one’s the father.”
he hums, scooting himself closer to you so he can see the screen too. he flips himself around so his neck isn’t craned at that awkward angle anymore and settles himself down right next to you. hook, line and sinker.
he wraps his arm around your shoulder and shoves his head in your neck, breathing you in. you both don’t say anything. “do you want me to play it from the beginning for you ?” he shakes his head in your neck. you reach your hand up to scratch at his scalp and you smile when he sighs. he holds you a little tighter, pressing feather light kisses into your neck.
katsuki’s never been good at expressing himself with any other emotion that isn’t anger. it makes him feel stupid and weak and soft. he’s had a long fucking day and he doesn’t wanna talk about it, simply wanting to indulge in you but he can’t tell you that, can’t find the words to, so he tries to find other ways to tell you and he hopes you understand and you do.
katsuki’s thankful for you because sometimes he wants to talk, wants to open up about what’s bothering him but sometimes he doesn’t. he doesn’t and you don’t pry when you know he doesn’t and he’s so thankful for you. he presses kisses on your skin and soft bites at your flesh to convey just how thankful he is, how grateful he is for having you. he hopes every warm press of his lips against your skin can convey how much he loves you loving him. and it does, because you turn your head and kiss the side of his head so sweetly and he knows you’re it for him.
he’ll tell you all of this one day, he promises. he’ll tell you all the thoughts swimming around in his head one day, but he hopes this’ll do for now. and unknowingly to him, it absolutely does.
he pulls his head out of your neck and kisses you hard on the cheek one, two, three times and you giggle. you feel him smile into your cheek when he kisses you a fourth time.
“fuck’re they screamin’ about ?” he says and you turn to look back at the screen. the woman is yelling at her husband’s brother vehemently denying the possibility of him being her baby’s father. you feel a little bad for laughing. “ she says he’s not the dad” you answer.
he clicks his tongue “ why the fuck is she on the show then.” he says, turning his attention back to your computer but his grip on you stays secure. you press yourself a little closer to him.
you’re still smiling lightly when you look back at your screen, simply shrugging. “ she said something about her having more sex with her husband than with him.” you answer and he snorts.
“ ten bucks neither one of them’s the father.”
1K notes
·
View notes
Me: Look, you know you're wildly sympathetic and like exploring the complexity of "villainous" characters in particular, but this fic is already enormous and you hate this guy, do you really want to expend the mental energy on making him into something else?
Also me: Hey, Disney was wrong about a lot of shit but he was fucking right when he said that a story is only as interesting as it's villain, and no matter what kind of monster they are, they also have to be appealing and interesting to watch. Tweaking this asshole to have some actual depth and sympathetic reasoning is solid storytelling.
Also Also Me: If I Doofenschmirtzinate the shitty little ICP wannabe war crimes "scientist" Mayuri it'll hurt more when I kill him :)
1K notes
·
View notes