sunny | 19 | i used to weeb on this acc now i’m just sad
yall gif makers spend hours of their day working on their gifs. they spend hours trying to get the coloring right, trying to get the right cut of scene and for anyone to take their work and to repost it without permission is heartbreaking. for someone else to take credit for something you worked so hard on his literally one of the worst feelings in the world. respect gif makers 2k16.
Endings are tricky because we expect answers. Fifteen years ago, with my first film Saving Face, I got one recurring question: “Is this ending… too happy?” At the time, as much as I saw the truth in it for my characters, I confessed to not knowing if that happy ending could be expected in real life; but as a queer woman, I wanted - needed - to see it in order to believe it could happen for me. Now with The Half Of It I’m regularly peppered with questions over whether certain characters end up together in an ever-pointed crescendo toward “But is the ending happy?” (Ha!) My honest answer is that the point of the film isn’t about who ends up with whom. It’s about three people who collide in a moment-in-time before going their separate ways, each now holding the piece of themselves that allows them to become the person they are meant to be. The end of the film is each of their beginnings. And for my characters, I can think of no happier ending.
- Alice Wu
HOW THE ACTUAL FUCK AM I THE FAMILY DISAPPOINTMENT????
x
WHAT IF IT WAS BPD ALL ALONG????????????
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they really weren’t joking when they said you have to love yourself first
me during the day: ah i'm so sleepy. i'm so fucking tired oh my god i can't wait to go to bed tonight.
me during the night: let's download the top 100 songs from 2010 and listen to them all while writing a novel and watching an entire season of something and maybe rearrange my room or read 2 books and complete my assignment which was due last week haha i'm so productive.
j0succ asked:
asking for jjk requests?? 👀👀👀 what about five and nanami??? i am. so weak for ‘patching someone up as a form of love language’ ...
lostinthe-jojos answered:
“Let me bandage you up”
A/N: Gender neutral reader, no cw I think?
((It is a form of love language and a very good one😩))
After Nanami chose to leave the jujutsu world, you had been the only reminder of his past life, the two of you sharing a flat since your twenties.
You never talked much about your work with him, only doing so if he ever asked.
Yet there you were, listening to his rambles about how, even if the jujutsu world was shit, his actual work was even worse, finishing with an almost desperate “I want to go back”.
After talking with Gojo about it, Nanami was assigned on a mission.
“Will he be alright?” You asked Gojo, knowing he probably had dumped one of his own missions on Nanami “He might be a little rusty, you think he can handle this?”
“Ah, don’t worry! I gave him an easy one, to get him back on track!” Gojo cheerily said “You can go check on him, if it’ll make you feel better,” he added and gave you the address.
After thanking him, you walked there, realizing it wasn’t that far from your location, trying not to run, reminding yourself how good of a fighter he was.
When you arrived, it was all over already, a nearly out of breath Nanami stepping out of the building, his usually perfect hair a mess and his clothes, dirty.
“Kento!” you called him, the man smiling tiredly at you, “Are you alright?”
“Did Gojo send you?”
You shook your head.
“No, I wanted to check on you,” you said, checking him for any injuries.
“I’m fine,” he said, trying to stop you, but as he lifted his arm to do so, he hissed in pain “It’s nothing, really,” he reassured you, “Just a scratch.”
You grabbed his wrist and led him to a nearby bench, making him sit down.
“Let me bandage you up,” you said.
He hesitated for a moment, but by the expression on your face, there was no room for arguing, and did as you said, letting you take care of him in silence.
You cleaned up his skin, gently dabbing alcohol with a cotton cloth, and carefully wrapped the wound on his shoulder—it wasn’t deep nor did it need stitches— absentmindedly humming a song that had been stuck in your head for days now.
It was strange how relaxed he felt, as he let you take care of him. Usually, it would be the other way around, with him helping you change your bandages after a particularly rough mission. It felt unusually good being on the other side.
“And how did it go?” you asked once you finished, helping him fix up his shirt.
“It went well” he simply stated “It’s good to be back”
You smiled at him.
“It’s good to have you back”
