Emilyh1983 - Em’s Trash Bin

by @magical_maru on twitter

My man casually dropping things like that. I'm gonna cry

I love how inherently selfish both Glinda AND Elphaba are as protagonists. But where one gets praised and admired for it, the other gets demonised and hated.

People always attack Glinda’s decision not to runaway with Elphaba, but no one acknowledges how overtly selfish it is to ask that of someone.

although what Elphaba is asking of her is noble on paper, in practice it’s an incredibly selfish position to put Glinda in. By asking Glinda to stand with her in solidarity she is also asking Glinda to be ostracised and hated all throughout Oz when she knows full well how much being liked means’s to Glinda.

This traps Glinda is a lose-lose situation. If she agrees she loses everything, her family, friends, and future. If she refuses she is being complicit in injustice.

but on the other hand It’s a more selfish decision to refuse Elphaba request. To perpetuate corrupt beliefs you don’t believe; in order to be accepted and validated by people in power.

Although one of the options seems more ethically right, it is at the same time individually devastating. The conscious choice to willing ruin your life for things you believe in is a choice that only the strongest people can make. And we shouldn’t shame people when they choose themselves over ideals, because self preservation isn’t a thing to be ashamed of.

They’re BOTH in the wrong, for entirely different reasons. It was an impossible situation with no right answer. And thats why the scene works, neither is right or wrong. I’m sick of people acting like Glinda made the “ wrong choice ” as if they would go ruin their lives for their ideals.

USA people! Buy NOTHING Feb 28 2025. Not anything. 24 hours. No spending. Buy the day before or after but nothing. NOTHING. February 28 2025. Not gas. Not milk. Not something on a gaming app. Not a penny spent. (Only option in a crisis is local small mom and pop. Nothing. Else.) Promise me. Commit. 1 day. 1 day to scare the shit out of them that they don't get to follow the bullshit executive orders. They don't get to be cowards. If they do, it costs. It costs.

Then, if you can join me for Phase 2. March 7 2025 thtough March 14 2025? No Amazon. None. 1 week. No orders. Not a single item. Not one ebook. Nothing. 1 week. Just 1.

If you live outside the USA boycott US products on February 28 2025 and stand in solidarity with us and also join us for the week of no Amazon.

Are you with me?

Spread the word.

Didn’t know how to add the video and couldn’t capture with just a screenshot lmao also apologies for the poor quality

a lot of things about this are funny to me:

1. This being his first tweet since December 13th

2. Why is he saying this. Like same but did he feel so strongly about wanting to walk in a snowy pine forest that he simply must tweet about it. Cozy cottagecore tangotek

3. The previous tweet in question is Ladies and Gentlement. Suck It GTWScar

Huntlow crumbs for y'all ✌

HAPPY VALENTINES JONMARTIN

Another Scar TCD angst because @stiffyck has ruined me.  Seriously, I'm supposed to be working on the Blackjack AU, but no, now I have brainrot. 

A Scar by Any Other Name

Of course, it was Grian who asked. 

The two men sat on a double chest in one of Scar's many chest monsters, just chatting and having a mid-afternoon snack. 

"So, I've been curious about something for a while.  Can I ask you a question?"

Scar chuckled.  "You just did."

Grian rolled his eyes.  "Can I ask you something a bit personal?"

"Sure.  I've got nothing to hide."

Grian snorted and laughed again.  "I don't believe that for a second.  But I've been wondering: Is 'Scar' actually your real name?"

Scar's smile dropped, and he went ridged.  He knew that someday, someone would ask.  He just hadn't bothered to consider how he would answer.  Pretty much everyone on Hermitcraft went by nicknames; one's they'd given themselves, one's they'd been called by friends enough times that they stuck around, names they grew into by virtue of what kind of person or player they were.  But they all had real names, and most everyone knew the real names of everyone else, though many were rarely if ever used. 

"It might as well be," Scar said quietly after a few long moments.

"Is this..." Grian said cautiously.  He wasn't smiling anymore, either.  "Is this something I shouldn't have asked?"

Scar sighed and shook his head.  "No.  I knew someone would eventually."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, with Scar contemplating how to answer and Grian giving him the time and space to do so.

"I don't remember my old name," Scar finally confessed.

"What?" Grian’s voice was all at once shocked, curious, concerned.  "I know you're absent-minded and bad with words sometimes, but how do you forget your own name?"

Scar looked up, trying to oppose gravity so that the tears he felt prickling the corners of his eyes wouldn't fall.  "When you... when you're alone for so long, when there's no one to call your name and no one to tell your name too, you... you change.  The isolation turns you into someone else, and your brain makes room for more important things than names.  The safest route between your base and fresh water, your supply count, your weapon specs.  I -"  His voice cracked, and he hung his head.  Tears fell as he failed to contain a sob.  "I named myself after a rifle because fighting for my life was all I knew."

"Oh, Scar."  Grian gently rested a hand on Scar's shoulder.  Scar flinched slightly in response but quickly relaxed under his friends comforting touch. 

"That's why I name all my bases after myself.  Scar West Outpost, Scarlandia, ScarX.  That way, if I ever forget my name again, there's something there to remind me who I am."

"We won't let you forget," Grian assured him, squeezing Scar's shoulder.  "We'll never let you be alone for so long ever again."

Scar sniffled and offered up a small, sad smile.  "Thanks, G."

"Always."

They sat there for another few hours. Scar told Grian more about the dead apocalypse world he came from, and Grian listened intently.  There were some things he wasn't quite ready to talk about yet, and Grian understood.  Grian wasn't without his own deamons, after all, so he could empathize. 

When evening came, Grian walked Scar home and didn't leave.  He could tell Scar didn't want to be alone after rehashing the trauma of having lived in fear and isolation. 

That night, Scar didn't dream of zombies or death.  He dreamed of friendship and happiness in a world where he knew in his scarred heart that he would never be lonely again.