lostintranslation

[universeenthusiast]

ok honestly tho im almost glad luka got akumatized when he did bc if papillon hadnt sent that butterfly luka would have just straight up tried to bludgeon fat producer to death with the shitty mask and ended up in juvie

juleka suggested kidnapping kagami in 100% sincerity and anarka yelled in a cops face for no reason other than she wanted her kids to play loud music the couffaine family are all queer, ride-or-die, fuck da po-lice chaotic goods and i love them so fuckin much

[sapphicambitions]

hmm im gonna confess my own happy little fantasy right now ready? okay, good

Sure , okay. I hate it, but Quentin dies, and meets Penny 40 in the underworld, and they do the Secrets to the Grave thing. Whatever. It’s bullshit. Penny takes him to the campfire, and Quentin sees his friends mourning him. A catastrophic wave of emotions watches over Quentin and he feels like he can’t breathe, which is weird, as a dead man.

He knows this is the moment he’s supposed to be grateful, watching how deeply everyone is mourning him. He’s sure not everyone gets this perk, but he happens to have an in with an Underworld employee. He knows this is supposed to give him the peace he needs to move on. But he stops, shakes his head, and turns to Penny.

“I’m not ready,” Quentin says.

Penny raises his eyebrows. “What?”

“These people love me. And I love them.” He turns back to his friends, sees Margo and Kady and Alice and Julia, poor Julia, his best friend, barely holding it together. He sees Eliot, his Eliot, alive and well and Quentin wants nothing more to grab him by his vest and pull him close. To hold him and cry into his shoulder and confess his love all over again. To say he’s sorry for leaving him all over again. To swear to never leave him again as long as he lives.

“Quentin?” Penny asks. Quentin makes up his mind. He’s never been so sure of anything in his after life.

“I’ve got more fight in me. This is not how my story ends.” He watches all of his friends throw his memory in the fire, singing this stupid fucking song, and looks at Penny.

“I want to live.”

Penny smiles at him, and claps his hand on Quentin’s shoulder. “There’s the nerd I know,” Quentin’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline and his mouth opens but before he can say anything, Penny continues. “I’m not technically allowed to do this, but I’ll make an exception for an old friend,” Quentin chokes back a sob. Penny hugs him, and then shakes his hand. “I better not see you for another few decades, Coldwater,”

Quentin blinks, and Penny’s gone. Quentin isn’t sure that it actually worked and that he’s actually back but he can smell the fire and feel the wind. He turns back to his friends, who are so caught up in their singing (why did it have to be this stupid song) and staring so dramatically into the fire that they don’t look at him, if he’s even there at all. Quentin holds his breath. He watches, heart crushing into his chest, as Eliot pulls out a peach. Eliot kisses the peach and throws it into the fire and Quentin knows this is the moment.

“Peaches and plums, motherfucker.” Quentin says, loud and clear.

Eliot’s head snaps towards him, eyes wide. Everyone stops singing, and Quentin can feel them holding their breath, can feel all of their eyes on him, unsure if he’s really there. But Quentin isn’t looking at them. He’s staring dead in the eyes of Eliot, his lifetime love, his soul mate, his plum. Quentin smiles.

“I’m alive out here,”

That’s how it happened, right?

[unclefather]

[archernazgru]

Kabaka o' muto....Id Mubarak

[archernazgru]

Fruit of life;

I'm sorry, but I don't want to be an emperor. That's not my business. I don't want to rule or conquer anyone. I should like to help everyone, if possible, Jew, Gentile, Black man, White. We all want to help one another. Human beings are like that. We want to live by each other's happiness, not by each other's misery. We don't want to hate and despise one another.

In this world there is room for everyone. And the good earth is rich and can provide for everyone. The way of life can be free and beautiful, but we have lost the way. Greed has poisoned men's souls, has barricaded the world with hate, has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed. We have developed speed, but we have shut ourselves in. Machinery that gives abundance has left us in want. Our knowledge has made us cynical. Our cleverness, hard and unkind. We think too much and feel too little. More than machinery we need humanity. More than cleverness we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost.

The aeroplane and the radio have brought us closer together. The very nature of these inventions cries out for the goodness in men, cries out for universal brotherhood, for the unity of us all. Even now my voice is reaching millions throughout the world, millions of despairing men, women and little children, victims of a system that makes men torture and imprison innocent people. To those who can hear me, I say, do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed, the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress.

[archernazgru]

Alchemist... https://www.instagram.com/p/BofD31cCb23U5AbPVDHRh_NWwDWCFmaKlWpqSs0/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=uznqxl114cnv

[beanjuice-duh-deactivated202506]

Don’t be fooled by her button up shirt, I once saw her pick up a beer on the side of the road, pour it into a to-go coffee cup and drink it at work

my co-workers talking to the new employees after I become a manager (via limpblotter)

[srsfunny]

Talking On The Phone To Someone Who Has Kids

[lifeinpoetry]

I won’t tell anyone how I’m doing.

Every day is this routine, this song-and-dance, this “let’s just affirm and forget,”

and I don’t know what happens if I don’t have it.

— Mia You, from “Trench Lyric,” published in PEN America

[starllex]

when your mom is yelling at you to do more chores while you’re doing chores and you’re there like 

[archernazgru]

Mithril....

[epicjohndoe]

Their First Paycheck

[astrolocherry]

scorpio is the centrefold of the water signs, subject to the consuming moods and heightened emotional state inherited by cancer, forced into the self-focused and self-sufficiency of dwelling in the isolated unconscious and making powerful, private transformations that if they were to speak of would be considered mad, and preparing for the exhaustive empathy and self-sacrifice in pisces, the final ending, so scorpio can be in the position of speculating what is real at all

[archernazgru]

selah!

[notmytmblr]

[expressions-of-nature]

[thebluntmovement]

kush