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Vultures are holy creatures.

Tending the dead.

Bowing low.

Bared head.

Whispers to cold flesh,

“Your old name is not your king.

I rename you ‘Everything.’”

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all goofing aside I genuinely don't understand the urge to reimagine Taylor Allison Swift as a secretly queer icon when the pop music scene(TM) is like. literally overflowing with women who actually like women. Gaga and Kesha and Miley and Halsey are right there. Rina Sawayama and Hayley Kiyoko and Rebecca Black and Kehlani and Victoria Monét and Miya Folick if you're willing to get slightly less top 100. Janelle and Demi for them nonbinary takes on liking girls. like what are we doing here. like I'm not even saying you can't enjoy Taylor but why would you hang all your little gay hopes on her.

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Watching my toddler figure out how to language is fascinating. Yesterday we were stumped when he kept insisting there was a “Lego winner” behind his bookshelf - it turned out to be a little Lego trophy cup. Not knowing the word for “trophy”, he’d extrapolated a word for “thing you can win”. And then, just now, he held up his empty milk container and said, “Mummy? It’s not rubbish. It’s allowed to be a bottle.” - meaning, effectively, “I want this. Don’t throw it away.” But to an adult ear, there’s something quite lovely about “it’s allowed to be a bottle,” as if we’re acknowledging that the object is entitled to keep its title even in the absence of the original function.

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i love how maggie writes about death and grief. i felt so understood with that one simple and short chapter in bllb, after persephone's death, blue's first experience with that feeling. when she goes "it shouldn't happen like this, without a ceremony, without a warning, with someone i love so much, and ive known for so long. it shouldn't happen in a irreversible minute, just like that, and then its over". i FELT that. that's exactly how it feels. you dont have to make it dramatic or desperate, just that. and then, "from now on, that'll be forever two blues: the one before it, that didn't believe in death, and the one after it, who does"

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Read Confessions on Ao3 Rating: G for General Audiences Word Count: 1.4K

An Adrinette Post-Reveal fic, where someone brings up Catwalker

Her fingers slide through his hair like she’s untangling silk threads. She thinks she should have made the Adrien-is-Chat-Noir connection sooner, given how many times she’s slid her hands through his hair both in and out of costume. She’s never quite gotten over how smooth it is. She’d told herself that with Chat it was just the magic, and with Adrien, she’d imagined copious bottles of product—only come to find out, it was both.

His head rests in her lap, and his eyes hidden behind his forearm. His fingers fidget absentmindedly with one of her hair ties, and his lanky legs are propped up against her wall, jeans sliding off to show just a bit of bare ankle. She’s pressed back into her own mountain of pillows, and she thinks how nice it is to have afternoons like this together. No more chasing down villains, no more battles, no more secrets.

“Kim as the monkey was an inspired choice,” Adrien says. “He’s about as chaotic as Plagg.”

Marinette laughs softly. “I think that was Master Fu’s choice, not mine.”

“How do you decide who the right choice is?” Adrien pulls his arm from his face and looks up at her. Pensive curiosity flits through his determined green gaze. “Like, Nino’s really protective, so Carapace makes sense, but Alya’s all about truth and justice, right? Lies and illusion don’t make a lot of sense for her.”

Marinette tips her head back and stares at the trapdoor above her bed. “I didn’t think Ladybug made sense for me. She’s so brave and cunning and determined… I’ve always been a coward and pretty hapless and helpless.”

“I think you’re brave and determined.”

“You’ve only known me since becoming Ladybug. I’ve grown a lot.”

“Chat Noir made perfect sense for me.”

Marinette laughs, jostling Adrien, and when she looks back down at him he’s glaring up at her.

“You don’t think so?” he says flatly.

“It’s not that,” she laughs again. “I mean, it does make sense—now anyway. But not how you used to be, you know, around other people.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Just that you’ve changed, too.”

“I was always like this,” he protests. “I just pretended to be someone else for a long time.”

“So you weren’t a handsome, charming, polite and kind friend all those years?”

“Chat Noir is all of those things.”

“Charming is stretching it.”

Adrien wrinkles his nose, and it only makes Marinette laugh more.

“Who was Scarabella, anyway?” Adrien asks, unsubtly changing the subject.

Marinette has to take a moment to compose her giggles. “That was Alya.”

“Ah, of course. She did a good job, but she certainly was no replacement for you.”

Marinette bites her cheek, hoping he can’t see her blush. The hardest thing about dating Adrien after the reveal has been listening to him praise her as Ladybug. She had never quite felt comfortable hearing him praise Ladybug before, and now that he knows the truth, it’s worse, as if knowing both of her identities has somehow doubled the intensity of the compliments.

She unsubtly reaches for a subject change of her own. “And what about Catwalker? You picked him, didn’t you? Or was that Plagg?”

Adrien glances away, tipping his head back for a better gaze of her pinboard that is no longer just Gabriel ads, but has grown to include photos with friends and pictures from several of their date nights, and a few even of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

“Catwalker was—well…” His brow furrows as he searches for the answer. She can’t fathom why it’s so hard for him to explain if he knows, but finally he says, “I was Catwalker.”

Marinette laughs again. “What do you mean you were Catwalker?”

“Well—you didn’t need Chat Noir around, and Plagg didn’t want another holder, so we… we figured something else out.”

Her hands go still in his hair. “You know I always need you, right, minou?”

His eyes are still on her corkboard. “You didn’t need Catwalker.”

“It was more like I couldn’t function with Catwalker. I… I liked you too much. You were so careful, so polite, so put together and charming… I couldn’t even think straight, just like all those times I couldn’t talk to you at school. You just made my brain stop working! I couldn’t be Ladybug if I was too busy thinking about kissing you.”

She hopes he’ll sit up for a kiss, but he still doesn’t move. His gaze remains distant.

“Catwalker was based on the person I would always pretend to be. The person my father wanted me to be.”

Marinette understands rather suddenly where she misstepped. She bites down on her tongue, holding back a stuttered apology. She can’t say she didn’t mean it, or it wasn’t true, because it all was and still is. She loves Adrien, and a lot of “Adrien” has been made to please his father. She understands now why he had pouted when she’d said he was so different from Chat Noir.

She runs her fingers through his hair again with a bit more intention to the contact between them than her lazy strokes earlier. “Shortly before we started dating, I got obsessed with dating Chat Noir.”

“Oh, I remember,” he says, and a small smirk flashes across his face. Despite how insulting it ought to feel, it relaxes her. She knows he’s still here, listening, and not lost in his own head.

“I love all of you, Adrien. You are still kind and polite, and not just to make others happy. You do it because you care. And you’re silly and sometimes charming, but maybe not as often as you’d like to be. You’re Adrien and Chat Noir, you know, and I love all of it. Because I love all of you.”

His eyes finally slide back up to meet hers. “You’re Marinette and Ladybug, you know.”

Heat creeps up her neck and into her cheeks. “O-of course.”

He swings his legs down and pushes himself up to her level. “You are brave and determined and cunning and creative and honest and thoughtful and a hero.” He leans in until his face is inches from hers.

Her cheeks must be fully red now.

“Adrien, I’m not—”

“If I can be Adrien and Chat Noir, why can’t you be Ladybug and Marinette?”

“I-I am, I just—”

“Am I allowed to love all of you?”

Her tongue tingles as her anxiety mounts. Her brain sparks with all the same misfires it used to around Adrien and Catwalker alike, which is unfair since he’s being particularly impolite and invasive in this moment.

“Adrien, I—”

“You’re my lady and my purrincess,” he says, voice low like Chat Noir’s as he brushes her hair away from her face.

Marinette isn’t sure if her heart or her lungs are going to give out first, but one of them is surely about to clock out for the day and leave her high and dry.

And then he kisses her, and all of her parts call it quits—except her mouth, which seems to find its way around his just fine.

His hand slides through her hair, and his other hand finds its way to her waist. Marinette wants to stop, but she also doesn’t want to stop—ever. It occurs to her, distantly, that Adrien has once again changed the subject away from himself, but that thought is too far from this moment, from the heat of this kiss to do any good.

When he finally does pull away, there’s such a Chat-like mischief in his eyes that only makes Marinette’s blush worse.

“I love you,” he says.

She forces herself—with a fair amount of effort—to remember where they had left off their conversation. “I love all of you,” she says.

He hesitates for only a moment, long enough for her to know the weight of her promise reaches where it ought to. He answers, “Only if you’ll let me love all of you, too.”

It’s a fair trade, at least. Maybe someday Ladybug will stop feeling like a costume, like an act she puts on. Maybe someday she’ll feel worth of all of those grand adjectives. But at least today, at least for now, she’ll feel worthy of Adrien, and she hopes that someday he’ll feel worthy of himself, too.

She twists her hands into the collar of his black T-shirt and pulls him in for another kiss.

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When people get a little too gung-ho about-

wait. cancel post. gung-ho cannot be English. where did that phrase come from? China?

ok, yes. gōnghé, which is…an abbreviation for “industrial cooperative”? Like it was just a term for a worker-run organization? A specific U.S. marine stationed in China interpreted it as a motivational slogan about teamwork, and as a commander he got his whole battalion using it, and other U.S. marines found those guys so exhausting that it migrated into English slang with the meaning “overly enthusiastic”.

That’s…wild. What was I talking about?

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Maybe this is just me but I am really surprised that 2023 was the first time a lot of people heard about Palestine because 2021 was when settlers tried expelling Palestinians from their homes in Sheikh Jarrah - this then escalated to the IOF attacking Palestinians in Al Aqsa and throughout the country (almost 300 Palestinians in Gaza were killed and thousands were injured) - there were massive protests all over the world in response. 2021 really laid the foundations for everything that is happening now but it surprises me how little people actually mention the uprising then or were even aware it was happening.

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odysseus absolutely does present a threat to penelope if he perceives her as at all unfaithful, and i feel the unfairness of this, and i think people tend to undersell how much tension at least potentially exists between odysseus and penelope. but i'm also like. his reaction, all speculation aside, his actual reaction in the odyssey to her flirting with the suitors is delight, because he immediately ascertains that she is running a con. sorry that they're so in-sync in spite of the forces that try to drive a wedge between them, including their own misgiving hearts. sorry that they invented homophrosyne ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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Pig!Marinette for my kwami swap roster. It's... already been half a year since the last one, apparently. Oops. I'll be the first to admit that I'm not a fan of the canon colors for the pig holder's outfit, so I stuck with Daizzi's colors, but muted and pinker... fine! I did my own thing (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻ No regrets.

|Check my Miraculous Ladybug tag for redesigns and lukanette content| |DO NOT REPOST MY WORK|

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AU where the timeline gets reset but Zuko still has all his memories. Now in comic form

The backstory for this drawing

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Drawing from a mini comic where the timeline is reset but Zuko still has all his memories

Minicomic here

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i cannot be the first person to post this here but i am going so fucking insane about the gaia music collective's one day choir singing wait for me. the opening harmonies are you KIDDING me

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my cup of tea

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big believer that writing doesn't always have to be writing. sometimes writing is going for a walk. sometimes writing is rehearsing your characters' dialogue in the shower. sometimes writing is putting a song on loop and staring at the carpet. sometimes you need to hang out with your story instead of writing it

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this does not apply if you wear exclusively leggings. Those things tear all the time you need like a million on standby