#and to like my own writing again

[jhalya]

Opening lines are all I seem to be able to write these days...

[kurozu501]

do you ever just remember how one of the most effective things parvis said to get silence to lose faith in saria was essentially "do you really think she would ever choose YOU over everything?" and silence with her low self esteem really didn't believe saria would.

Then in the end saria really did choose them over everything, left her defense director job and her whole life up to that point behind for the sake of silence and ifrit. and silence still doesnt even know. do you ever think about that and lose your mind a little bit.

[autisticaradiamegido]

day 39

a redraw from a couple years back that was originally a redraw from 2014 so thats a FULL DECADE OF PROGRESS, BABEY!!

[whaliiwatching]

the flower (reprise)

[fastcardotmp3]

fluke

for @steddiemicrofic December 2023 prompt: PINE | words: 508 | rated: G | established relationship; no CW (I wrote fluff, are you proud of me?)

They come into the land by a total and complete fluke.

An empty Tennessee plot that hasn't seen use in decades, it's got a shed of a cabin built by Eddie's great grandfather, likely no modern plumbing, and it's perfect.

A perfect fucking fluke that the Munson family is fractured in enough ways that Eddie and Wayne are the only direct decedents around to inherit the land and all of its endless potential.

Or so Steve calls it.

“I mean, look! A balcony,” he jogs out a handful of yards across the snow-dusted plot of land, spreads his arms wide like he can see it, “right here-- a table and chairs-- a spot to look out at the view.”

The view is also a fluke. A gorgeous overlook of the Blue Ridge Mountains sort of fluke.

“It could even be two-story with stairs,” he gestures upward, such a skip in his step and a flush to his cheeks that Eddie can't help but think that he's a perfect sort of fluke too, Steve Harrington, “that lead right up to a second balcony right outside the bedroom. Yeah?”

He's beaming, positively glowing, and Eddie is mostly just stunned when he nods in agreement. Arms crossed tight to hold in the warmth of his coat and the hair not tucked into his knit cap whipping across his face in the wind, he nods.

Next month, Eddie will turn thirty years old even though he was supposed to die at nineteen, and Steve Harrington's face is going soft with something like understanding as he plans out the blueprints for the house they'll grow old in.

High up in the mountains. So far from the holes in the ground that once tried to drag them to hell.

“C'mere,” Steve strides back over to him, some of the broad exuberance leaving his step but none of the joy as he grapples for Eddie's hand and drags him to the other side of the plot, “okay, so from about here--” he gestures to where they stand, “to over by those trees, there's space for a guest house, don't you think?”

“A guest house?” Eddie looks at Steve questioningly.

“For Wayne. Now that he's finally retiring.”

Eddie may be the creative force when it comes to words and sound between them, but it's in moments like this that Steve proves the kind of vision he has. He can stand here on a nearly empty plot of land, a cabin so neglected the windows are boarded up and the porch rotted through, and still he sees a life.

A future. A family. Not just a fantasy but their prize, if they choose to take it.

“Hardwood floors. Pine,” Steve says, grin only growing as Eddie gapes at him in awe, takes his face between gloved palms, “oak furniture-- I'll build it myself.”

Eddie exhales, fog of breath dancing across Steve's crooked nose. “You really would, wouldn't you?”

Steve grins and kisses him soundly in the place that will become their home.

What a remarkable little fluke.

[brother-emperors]

CAESAR AUGUSTUS AND MARCUS LICINIUS CRASSUS

this is about the spolia opima that crassus was robbed of lmao. like, yeah okay octavian could've asked him not to claim it, but nevertheless. a kind of theft happened there.

Fact and Fiction: Crassus, Augustus, and the Spolia Opima, Catherine McPherson

[fuwaprince]

👉👈 Hi friends! I have a long, serious post made just for you(!) that isn't full of spoilers, smut or mooning lawn gnomes. Please read if you can, this is a 💥 mutual aid request 💥

It has been a horribly painful and long while as most people following/keeping up with me know. and in a few days I'm going to be down $1500, which is basically all my fucking $

I can't afford Christmas for anybody, which sucks and I'm very sorry. I can't even take care of myself and haven't been, which also sucks and I'm very sorry

Landlords spontaneously raised rent on me more than halfway through this month as punishment for not getting to my house chores and not communicating, to be totally honest with you. I feel ashamed and awful about it but I didn't want to clean the place while multiple ppl living here had tested positive for COVID and kept walking around unmasked... I am not fully vaxxed because I've been too depressed to get any kind of necessary medical care done and I didn't want to catch COVID in the middle of my finals week for the semester. I woke up to being angrily and rudely bitched at first thing after the last of my finals (I passed at least). It wasn't a humanizing text. Fuck the mistreatment though. Rent is now almost doubled and it won't be lowered

There was no room for negotiation and I truly believe they've resorted to pricing me out of living here because the group of renters psychologically tormenting me wasn't effective (actually- putting a picture of my rapist on the fridge rly was super effective in getting me to isolate myself in my room all day and so was outing me as trans to the transphobic ass neighbors.... But I didn't and still don't have any place better to move out to, like the way they were hoping I would. Yes, I have looked and BEGGED btw)

I want out of here NOW, but I can't leave. I tried and had to come back because it was the best option. I can't afford to stay in a motel/hotel/BnB just to get away from them for a day or two during Christmas. I don't have any friends who I can spend the holiday with either. During the semester, I resorted to convincing classmates with keys to locked buildings to let me crash in them while they worked at night and I would leave before anybody showed up. Now that school is out, I can't do that. I don't have any family I can reach out to for support or friends who I can depend on for immediate help. I have been crying day in and day out for weeks. I have records of it posted throughout my blog. Literally crying for days on end. I'm being so fucking transparent

All that lump of text is to explain to whoever is out there, who might be listening and willing and able, to please consider helping me, if and ONLY IF able. I know times are tough and if you'd rather use your $ for other reasons or just don't have any to spare, don't sweat it and take care! 🫂

I've thought about what I could do for a long time and have helped myself how I can. It isn't enough. I've applied for so much assistance. Been approved and been sabotaged by my inhumane mom (who does not love me) via stealing my legal documents and letters and hiding them for months. My mind jumps to grim places but I'm clinging for dear life to whatever hope I have left that says things will get better. I wish I knew somebody with a business that I could work for. Part of me feels so fucking terrible for asking for help because I feel like a waste of all your resources. I feel like I shouldn't ask, like I really do not fucking deserve help, but there are friends online who care, who I know mentioned being interested in helping in whatever ways they can

So to the people who care to seriously me, I'm ready to accept it: please send me nice words to get through this and feel less alone. It feels pathetic to ask but I would love a nice letter. A nice card even. Kind words of any kind would go a long way. It means more to me than food. I have felt so broken and every day feels like a test to figure out how badly I actually want to live

I'm also leaving my cash app and paypal here in case anybody would like to do more than what I'm comfortable asking but probably very likely will inevitably need very very soon. I will be left with fucking nothing and I will have no idea what to do once rent is paid

Thank you to those of you who have sent love, offered to listen and heard me out. I really wish it wasn't so hard to survive. I'm trying to feel better knowing there are people out there who are also without help and hoping the best, but it doesn't make me feel any better or comforted tbh. I just wish the help was there for us. I wish there was a place to go for spare love, care, compassion, empathy, kindness, humanity, generosity... I need that more than I need $. Call me stupid but that's what I live for. I don't live for paying to survive in terrible conditions. I live for love and to smile with friends

I hope to write back to the friends who have already been so kind as to message me soon btw. I'm sorry for not replying sooner. Your overwhelming support is sincerely sweet and sometimes I cry because I can't believe people are so nice (to me???). It'll give me something to do that doesn't make me feel like dying! :') so thank you thank you thank you *fist bump*

Hope you're all doing as well as you can and that somehow things get better. Hope anybody else struggling like me doesn't make the mistake of isolating like a sick and dying animal. You deserve love. You deserve support. Don't be like me. Have the courage to reach out to the people who care about you for help as early on into your emergency as possible. Don't let your situation snowball because you spend so long trying to figure out if you're worth it!!! This Random Tumblr user is here to tell you that YOU ARE. Sending my infinite everlasting unconditional love. Be nice to yourselves. Be nice to each other. Fuck the hateful assholes who wish I would just kill myself already. Tell your friends you love them. Happy Holidays!!!

And here's a single picture of a mooning lawn gnome at the very end, as a treat! I told you this post wasn't full of it.... It just ended with it 👉👉

[topaziraphale]

"Stop saying Crowley won't help Aziraphale in S3 he'd go back to him in a HEARTBEAT and nothing would stop him" I get it no one likes the idea of Crowley being bitter after what happened for a long period of time but like can we at least acknowledge that he's currently going through probably the most emotional pain in his life since falling? Can we agree that he's opened his heart entirely - something you couldn't pay him to do unless the world is literally ending and he's desperate - to Aziraphale, and got shot down? Can we understand that he did it AGAIN only to lose Aziraphale again? Not that what Aziraphale did isn't without Crowley's own shortcomings (hiding the truth of Heaven's cruelty from him) but like,,,,

The appeal here isn't Scorned Crowley Doesn't Love Aziraphale Anymore, or Never Wants To Help Him Again, the appeal here is Crowley learning enough self respect to not just walk back right to Aziraphale like nothing happened after Aziraphale has had a pattern of consistently refusing him. Going years ping-ponging between "We're not friends I don't even know him" to "That's what friends are for right?" and "We're friends, why would you even say anything?" and "Friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon!"

Like I get it, Crowley is a heartbreakingly forgiving person. Of course he's gonna forgive Aziraphale, I'll be surprised if he didn't forgive him by the time he walked out the bookshop door, but gdi he could at least grant himself the luxury of being at least a little irritated for longer than however long it takes to make a globe and some books float and angrily cry out to God in his flat. But due to the change of pace and dynamic that is establishing part of the conflict for Season 3, I just really like the idea of him for ONCE prioritizing himself and being like "Okay, fine. We'll get back at it when you're ready, then," instead of just taking Aziraphale back like his words and actions meant nothing to him, when clearly they have an effect on him.

What is Aziraphale going to learn if Crowley just accepts what he did so quickly, like he always has the entire time they've been friends? Idk maybe I'm just projecting too much darkness on their dynamic but I mean, if the pattern of Aziraphale pushing Crowley away/disrespecting him one day and then being fine with his friendship the next + Crowley never stopping to be like "Hey, that's not cool, at least give me a little credit" or smth was fine all along and will continue to be fine in the future, then why, after 6,000 years of being friends and loving this demon, can Aziraphale still not accept that Crowley is just fine the way he is, and instead got excited to promote him to an angel in a heartbeat once the opportunity presented itself? You can't blame all of it on Heaven when Aziraphale has demonstrated his free will/defiance to Heaven so many times. Or, I don't know, I guess maybe we can? Maybe I'm just craving too much angst to the point where I'm letting it cloud my analysis of canon. Idk.

[fairydrowning]

In my "can't continue under this circumstances" era.

[mintypsii]

author x barista cafe au (sanji is competing against himself)

[hella1975]

it's been pointed out on here before that a lot of terf arguments are actually rooted in sexist idealology that feminists fought and died to unnormalise decades ago and that's its own kettle of fish but one thing i also find very frustrating about this so called 'radical' feminism is that it's so... defeatist? like the moment you categorically label an entire section of society as Bad and Inherently Evil then there's also the implication that nothing can be done about it, and it completely takes all accountability away. saying all men are evil is just another way of saying boys will be boys. he raped her because he's a man. he hit her because he's a man. he didn't listen because he's a man - it's almost offensively oversimplified. there's no point trying to fix this issue in society because men are just Like That, okay! so now what? it's not like they're going anywhere, so you just accept that 50% of the population are evil and will forever treat you terribly and there's nothing to be done about it bc they're biologically predisposed to it? like is that fr the argument here? you're soooo radical for that

[palettesofrenaissance]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 (𝐈'𝐦 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞)

"On your knees."

His taunting grin falters, lessens, a flicker of realization crosses his face seeing that she's serious. He squeezes the edge of his desk he's leaned against behind him, clears his throat and raises his chin in defiance.

His pants are still open—from when he'd instructed for them to be undone when she'd already been pulling his dick out; and from when she'd squeezed him hard, causing him to shudder before beginning to pant as she worked him in an unforgivingly tight grip. He had to bite his lip and bite his words as she took over, completely ignoring his previous air of dominace and pumping him like a torturous punishment.

Between his choked breathes then, he knew that she knew he liked it.

Now, his dick bobs after her command; dark curls rest at its base, leading to the little trail up to his naval.

She glares. He swallows, a momentary struggle of fighting for dominance or giving in plays across his face before he nods once and submits, lowering to his knees before her.

From this angle, his heart speeds up and he resists the urge to reach for her. Instead, he softly glares at her as if annoyed.

She runs a hand through his hair. "Good boy," she praises—she teases—and is surprised to spot the glimmer of a plea beside the bewilderment in his eyes and spots his dick jumping at that: He likes this.

Slowly, her hand slides down to craddle his cheek at the same time a knee raises to his shoulder. Wide eyes that boarderline confusion and excitement glance from her thigh to her face.

"I want you to please me."

A shuddery exhales leaves him. His dick jumps again, and stiffens further. With only a half-hearted glare, he adjusts her leg as she balances with a hand on the desk beside them and he pulls up her skirt and pulls aside the bridge of her panties. She isn't wearing pantyhose tonight.

He's trembling the slightest bit as he watches her moisture create a thin line connecting the panties to her warm lips. The panties are slid down her luscious legs to the floor in front of him where she steps out of only one hole. His breaths, hot and shallow and rapid, hit her thigh he does an impatient and quite improper attempt to skim kisses up her thigh.

He burries his face inside her greedily, with groans to match and a tight hold on her ass to keep her there. Her free hand dives into his hair near instantly, her grip tightening as he eats her out selfishly, sloppily, mouth wide and tongue darting, licking, lapping at anything and everything that's her.

Gone is that previous, smug, dominant hat he wore and is instead indulging in a role previously much submerged and hidden.

While pleasing her, his nose presses against her swollen clit and she cries out suddenly, making her grip painfully tight on his hair but he only groans gutterly and pulls her impossibly closer by her ass. Unabashed, he moans against her, the vibrations causing her breath to catch and for her to keen.

There's going to be sore, finger-shaped bruises by the early morning, she knows. He bumps her clit again with his nose, realizes, then does it again purposely, shaking his head for good measure, wanting to pull all types of noises from her—noises he's never heard her make before, noises he hopes she's never made for anyone else. She sounds wonderful, like music and fueling his own lust.

When she's bitten her bottom lip and is humming comfortably, he breaks apart only for a moment to insert a finger into his mouth, wetting it, before sliding the long digit inside her gripping cunt. The instinctual flutter of muscles and the high-pitched gasp of pleasure she elicits fuels his ego and his decision to insert a second finger. And then a third.

He groans about her tightness and ease due to her wetness.

She's whimpering now—a sound he's always imagined to hear from her—and had a death grip on the desk in an attempt to control herself and not aggressively hump his face to orgasm. She's stubborn and doesn't allow herself the self-fullfilling like that often; he notices she's holding back so, while still tapping against her sensitive spot within her gripping, slippery pussy, he rapidly flicks his tongue across her clit, trying to get her there anyway. Harshly presses his tongue against her clit. Sucks it while gazing up at her, almost daring her.

He longs to touch himself, to squeeze his cock and pump out the load that's nearing the brim just from her and this alone, but he doesn't. Instead, his cock stands between his legs, leaking shamefully, suffering, and almost harder than he can stand. Her hand in his hair maneuvers his head to pull back. He flicks his tongue at her clit, laps at her labia, then pushes against her hand to return sucking her off. Every now and then he humps the air pitifully.

High-pitched and lust-filled, she sighs, "Yes! Just like—oh, god! More! Keep on... More!"

Of course, he obeys.

She still stiffles her noises by biting her lip, by pressing her palm to her mouth, by throwing her head back and swallowing her own moans, turning them into breathless sighs and whines.

He laps and flicks and sucks while her hand pulls at his hair unforgivingly—

He longs to have her hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing just as tightly—

His eyes flutter at the pain that mixes with his pleasure. His cock is painfully hard, his one hand is soaked in her juices, his other is sunken into plush of her ass, gripping like it's a lifeline. All he can hear and all he can feel and think of and smell is her, her, her.

But just as he's getting completely lost, just as he's thrusting his hips into the air in a pathetic chase for relief, she pulls away. His mouth is forced to disconnect, creating a loud suction. And he's panting—they both are—and he's glistening from his spit and her slick from his nose down his chin, and he looks disheveled overall, with a dazed glaze to his eyes and his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Please," he begs, which she never thought he'd do; it both surprises her and pleases her.

His shirt is rumpled, his hair in disarray, and his pants are still undone. A puddle of precum rests on the floor beneath his exposed, achingly hard cock, the proof of his pent-up frustrations.

Running on autopilot now, his hips thrust into the air once more before a hand of his begins working his cock urgently.

Reaching out for her with his other hand, he repeats, desperate, "Please."

But she backs away out of reach and his hand falls pathetically, him still in that submissive haze.

After wiping her mouth, adjusting her panties, skirt, and outfit, she breaths weakly, "That's it."

He's confused. And so close.

"That was..." She clears her throat, forcing her composure despite her body prickling with arousal heat and her pussy screaming for her to stay. "I'm leaving. I have to go. Have a... Goo—good night."

On unsteady legs and in uncomfortable wetness, she leaves him—still on the floor, still staring after her.

- - - -

it is 6am -_- this isn't proofread and is jotted down in one go

[can-of-slorgs]

I'm personally blaming @starbiology and everyone who has reblogged or commented the other piece for this.

Bonus comic featuring my grundo:

[rongzhi]

hi very sorry to bother you with what is basically a vent but i NEED to tell somebody and i have no asian friends in fandom

anyway feel free to ignore this if you dont want to read >>>>

(incoming racism in fandom talk!)

do you ever see read fanfic or look at fanart of asian characters done by white people and go uh thats super racist???? ngl being chronically online sucks sometimes because i do actually want to participate in fandom stuff but also white people are..... so racist..... and it is constantly showing whenever they make fanfic or fanart or wtv. and that sucks.

like to give an example ive seen fanart of asian characters drawn with literal yellow skin and nobody said anything about it. it was so wild tbh. looked like a racist caricature from the 1800s or some shit

also ao3 is absolutely wack like sometimes idk whats going on with that site. lets just say the site creators definitely did not have antiracism as one of their goals when founding it because UHHHHHHHHH

engage with chinese cfandom instead of western cfandom for the same wack ass drama but minus the "i can't be racist! i think asians are hot!" racism and unapologetic cultural ignorance ✨

[black-and-yellow]

Thinking about him

Anyway read Inside.

[anxiouspotatorants]

This whole «Lorelai is evil and so is Rory and Emily is the real MVP of the show» shtick is getting on my nerves.

Like don’t misunderstand me, I love Emily and Richard. They are interesting and complex characters with strengths and weaknesses and a whole lot of baggage (like almost everyone in Gilmore Girls, except maybe the Town Troubador). But they aren’t this perfect well meaning couple with an ungrateful daughter who refuses to accept help and grow up.

Lorelai is not perfect either by any stretch of the imagination. She’s presumptuous, stubborn, used to getting her way and struggles to see things from more than one angle, but she’s also kind, hard working, supportive and able to strike a balance between being open and setting boundaries. She’s a complicated, flawed person, like all good protagonists should be (as opposed to heroes). And she doesn’t fight with Emily or cut her parents out because she’s being immature, she’s doing it because they genuinely hurt her several times.

Imagine if things had gone exactly like Emily and Richard wanted things to go. A 16 year old Lorelai would be married against her will to a guy who would likely then spend the rest of his life under the thumb of his parents for the «mistake» of having Rory. Her social life, her work, her education, all of it would be heavily monitored by Emily and Richard, as they would insist she only engage with what they deem respectable work and social circles. Lorelai in the DAR, Lorelai running charity functions, Lorelai staying married to a Hayden. So much of what makes Lorelai herself would be gone: the inn, her friendships with Sookie and Michel, cooky hobbies and a band of semi-adopted misfits and Luke.

Certain people (not many but still some) seem to forget exactly what it is Emily and Richard ultimately criticize Lorelai for, because it’s not her childish remarks at Friday Night Dinner. They criticize her for her lack of university education. For her lack of a high status job even though she runs a successful inn that she co-owns herself. For her terrible pick of men - not because of how they might be as lovers but because they’re not high society and not the kind of wealthy guys who could let Lorelai retire to the life of an affluent housewife (like did we forget that one of the times Lorelai cut them out was because they refused to accept LUKE?). Hell, they usually don’t criticize Lorelai for reasonable issues with how she raised Rory, they criticize her for not controlling Rory’s love life more.

I do think Emily and Richard love Lorelai and Rory, and that at the end of the day they want them to be happy (otherwise none of these characters would fight so hard to stay in each other’s lives). But time and time again they let their love of status and fear of a bad reputation stand in the way of recognizing their daughter and granddaughter for what they love and for what make them happy. Dislike Lorelai all you want, Rory too, but don’t come here and tell me that Emily is the one in the right.