Canon: They Died

not enough people talk about how rf kuang immediately writes a book shitting on anything she decides is bad no matter her connection to it and how iconic it is. lived in the us? fuck you, here’s tpw. graduated oxford? babel. harper collins published her book?? here, publish this one thats directly a call out about you.

honestly I agree

tda >>>tmi

I still think infernal devices was the best (in my opinion)

i regret buying tmi so much with my birthday money....

Desi Culture is "Mama meri blue shirt kahan hai, mil nahi rahi" "Mein ne us ko pocha bana diya" "KIYA-"

the question isn’t “to be or not to be”

the question is pcmb or pcmc

poems about Laika (the soviet space dog)

i’ve been hunting for one in specific, and during my quest, i have seen that very many beautiful poems about this creature have been written. I wanted to compile them.

“first dog in space” by brennig davies / “They say that, from space, the Earth looks like a small, blue ball. I’ll throw it for you, Laika, if you’ll chase it, dart through the stratosphere like a comet, undeserving of its fate.”

“laika” by claire williamson / “for three hours she was weightless, pulse racing, but ate her dinner, alive to see an orbital sunrise.”

“laika” by adnana zeljkovic / “Paddling with her soft paws in inimical vacuum, (nothing to draw you to your bosom like Mother Earth’s gravitation) herself soft snowflake,”

“laika” by paul gerard reed / “The stars that shone have all gone out as man betrayed your trust, but your spirit is still in place somewhere, out there in space.”

“laika” by dave lewis / “But when you gave me that final kiss on the nose I suppose deep down inside I knew my destiny lay among the stars. Alone, in silence, I watched the world spinning round, one thousand miles below.“

“i remember laika” by jan oskar hansen / “The farewell can’t be delayed a boy has run to the outer field sits on a stone tries not to cry the struggle to accept the unavoidable.”

“muttnik” by tumblr user @fateology / “I don’t mind. I just miss you. I miss you like the space that lies between two breaths. Full to burning.”

“for the first dog in space” by lavinia greenlaw / “Laika, do not let yourself be fooled by the absolute stillness that comes only with not knowing how fast you are going. As you fall in orbit around the earth, remember your language. Listen to star dust. Trust your fear.”

“laika” by sarah doyle / “Brave little cosmonaut, caught and collared, Earth no more than a distant ball with which you cannot play.”

“laika” by adrian sobol / “If there is light, it’s pressing down on you. Something stirs inside it.”

“first the dog” by zbigniew herbert / “awkwardly we bump into stars / we see nothing we hear nothing / we beat with our fists on the dark ether / on all the wavelengths is a whining”

you are welcome to add more poems to this post if you have any in mind to recommend.

Love how tumblr has its own folk stories. Yeah the God of Arepo we’ve all heard the story and we all still cry about it. Yeah that one about the woman locked up for centuries finally getting free. That one about the witch who would marry anyone who could get her house key from her cat and it’s revealed she IS the cat after the narrator befriends the cat.

STOP making me think about rinezha. i can't do it anymore. enemies to enemies slow burn. enemies to begrudging allies to friends to *almost* lovers. then betrayal, and then they're just enemies who used to be in love. and they both *know* that they were in love, and maybe they are still in love, but they stand on opposite sides of a war because they've both made their decisions and cannot come back from them. there can never be reconciliation for the things they've done to each other, but god, they're still in love. i am literally eating drywall over them

#Something something about Annabeth expecting help from her mother because she was always the perfect kid but getting sent to her own death and Percy expecting nothing because he doesn't believe in his dad and despite everything being saved from death by him

sometimes i forget how many times i’ve picked myself off the floor, how many times i’ve washed away smudgy makeup and put myself to bed. how many times i’ve said no to something unhealthy. said yes to something good. how many times i’ve treated myself with kindness and patience. i forget how many times i’ve tended to wounds and made peace with my own anger. if i was taking care of a body that was not my own, i’d believe i was doing everything i could. so here’s to remembering that i’m doing the best i can.