#bc thats not my vibe

[theloveinc]

It’s not bait sorry if it came off that way. I live in a red state and I yam scared and I just wanted to see what others thoughts were on it 😭

you know.... i wish i had something more hopeful to say but like......... red states have been going nuts with the censorship stuff lately, not even in terms of just internet safety, but like.... literally raiding schools for LGBTQ books and banning changing your gender on your drivers license and stuff..... so i have no idea !!!! how this will go or what to think abt it!!!

i def think it's stupid and just apart of the government's larger goal of using stupid "laws" to oppress and silence people (i can imagine so many ways this "policy" wouldn't even alter spaces like tumblr and would instead be used to target individuals trying to spread helpful information)

but until we know........ 1. if there is a likelihood of this being passed, and 2. how it will actually affect us..... i'm just not going to worry abt it (and you shouldn't either, unless you live in like....... florida. sorry florida).

[shorthaltsjester]

the mighty nein - critical role

this is a place where i don't feel alone. this is a place where i feel at home.

[fleeting-sanity]

They just bombed one of the last hospitals in Gaza and so far 1500 have been confirmed dead.

[beescake]

Sorry for the spam (^o^;) I just really like your blog

no need to apologize ayy!

in this corner we welcome all forms of enjoyment, regardless of whether you're a

happy to have yall here w me,

headin into homestuck 2024 :^)

[infernal-lamb]

I like the implication that the bishops can still enter their final forms if they really wanted to.

LOL I kinda like the idea of it, idk if it works lore-wise just because there seems to be a lot of room for interpretation over how the crowns affect the God's body/physiology, but I feel like you could toy around with the concept. I think their boss forms would be more vestigial and wouldn't serve a function outside of just kinda freaking everyone out. It would probably be too physically taxing to change into their boss forms too! but they'd do it to harass the Lamb and make life hard for them.

(and Shamura is on the roof of the Temple and reciting some silly ancient curse.....oh Shamura! [I was lazy and didnt feel like drawing more im sorry])

[keirientez]

Pokemon trainer AU, Reborn is the champion meanwhile Tsuna is his apprentice. Tsuna’s design belongs to my friend @Cloud_Knee (Twt or X)

[tequiilasunriise]

Possible nicknames Lenore called Annabel in life go:

"Anniebell": Sometimes the smallest changes are the cutest, okay? Anniebell Lee sounds adorable as hell and I'll stick by it. Imagine Annabel trying to admonish Lenore for saying some wild shit at a Rich Persons Gala™️ or smth but she keeps breaking out into giggles like, "You- you can't just say that pet!" and Lenore playfully replying, "Oh whatever do you mean, Anniebell Lee?" like UGH I hate them somebody throw hammers at em already 💥💥🔨🔨🔨

“My moon”: in relation to the Annabel Lee poem (‘for the moon never beams/Without bringing me dreams/Of the wonderful Annabel Lee’) and also there’s smth so flavorful of the character with a color palette more akin to the Sun (long shiny blonde hair, warm colored eyes, seemingly more outwardly personality, etc) being called the moon like I loveee contrasting design choices‼️‼️

“Angel”: Also a reference to the poem (but like, worse because it was the angels that separated em) and can be easily pulled from Annabel’s name

“Petal”: Or some other variation of a flower based nickname because imma sad, sad bisexual who loves ✨flower motifs✨ just a bit too much

Anything in Dutch: This can be like common ones like “liefje” (darling) or the previous entries but in Dutch idk go crazy go stupid

“Locket”: An unconventional pick pulled from Annabel’s last name Whitlock + lockets containing pieces of hair from your other half being T H E romantic gesture of the century back then, so, like. Idk. Hear me out like okay I think Lenore could be the unconventional route (I mean girly already faked her death via arson and pulled a Mulan to get the girl soooo you see what I’m putting down?) and like like LIKKEEE⁉️⁉️⁉️ Imagine with me Lenore telling her girl, “You’re the locket I keep nearest to my heart” (many necklaces back then had a chain just long enough for the locket to rest above the wearer’s heart) and it evolves to Lenore calling Annabel smth like “my dearest, my locket” LIKE YOU HAVE TO IMAGINE WITH ME!!! GUYS MY VISION IS VISIONING!!! 🦅🗣️🌈🗣️🗣️🦅🦅🌈🗣️🦅🦅

@incorrect-nevermore cmere and witness my madness

[apencilandpen]

this is how we're supposed to be

[pasta-pardner]

spotify | john marston's revenge quest, set to music from 1960s spaghetti westerns.

Fun detail: the opening cutscene for Red Dead Revolver (2004) features an instrumental version of "His Name Is King". The lyrical version is oddly fitting for John, given that it's a song about seeking vengeance for a dead brother.

[rui-drawsbox]

nacchan experiment

[seriousbrat]

Accusing people, some of whom incidentally are likely LGBT themselves, of not viewing wol///fstar as canon because they "can't read queer-coding" is the cope of the century and borders on delusional. it's also condescending and disrespectful- why is your personal analysis of a work of fiction more valid than anyone else's, particularly when that analysis is almost certainly driven by confirmation bias? Have you asked yourself whether the "signs" you think you're reading in the text are actually there or whether you just want them to be? It's fine to want them to be and to add two and two and get six, personally I've done that with many works of fiction and I will continue to do so, but objectively there's no evidence that holds up to the slightest bit of scrutiny that jkr actually intended Sirius and Remus to secretly be in love.

Leaving aside the fact for now that this is JKR we're talking about and all that entails, it honestly verges on conspiracy-brained at times. Besides that, using homophobic stereotypes as "evidence" is, to put it plainly, shit. Some of these stereotypes might seem fairly innocuous yet still manage to be offensive (e.g. "tonks is queer-coded because she has short hair/is cool/has this personality trait or physical characteristic) but others honestly cross a line. Think for a moment about the logical leap you're making when you claim that werewolves being an allegory for stigmatised illnesses like AIDS is proof that R is gay. What equivalence is being drawn here? worth thinking about

I just want to say this is a work of children's literature and we're all free to interpret whatever we want and make up whatever silly things that we want with it. But you're not smarter or more special than anyone else because you think there's a gay way to look or speak or act, or for seriously believing that JKR created some kind of mad convoluted mental backflip conspiracy to specifically fuck with what was at the time a fringe element of online fandom that she likely wasn't even aware of. Apply Occam's razor here and go with the simplest explanation, which is that JKR, a heterosexual woman, wrote a children's book in the 90s with a majority heterosexual pairings and one token gay character. From there, do whatever you want. The end

[maypearlss]

do yall ever have those ocs that are part of a wip in theory, but you have next to zero actual ideas for the wip in question, so the oc is just kinda floating around in your brain with no story attached, but you love them so much you can't bring yourself to actually scrap the wip?

[capricores]

pisces/virgo placements... it's about time you took care of yourself, too, ok?

you burn yourselves out allowing yourself to be pulled by so many people in all different directions. you exhaust all your resources and empty your cup - no, your entire well - to help those around you, even people you don't know. it's such a beautiful thing, and i know you genuinely love helping others, supporting people, seeing them thrive. it's such a beautiful trait! but you constantly end up neglecting yourself, right? you don't realize that you have permission to set aside time to care for you, to cater to your needs for once. you often feel like no one puts a drop in your cup, the favor is never returned - it's exhausting; you might think if you just keep giving your all it will come back; i understand. you will find the people that give the same energy back to you one day, but regardless of whether you've found those people yet, you need to learn to step aside and fill your own cup!

setting boundaries and saying no is the most important thing you will learn to do in this lifetime. it will not be easy for you, sometimes it will feel painful. but you cannot help the world if you're constantly drained and tired! you deserve to take care of yourself in the same way you do for others. be gentle to your kind soul, nourish yourself; do the things you love to do. learn to worry about others less, as hard as it is, and focus on yourself more.

[becauseplot]

Penciled Lines

(Cross-posted on ao3, if you prefer to read it there. Reblogs still appreciated!)

Missa wakes up, and he thinks he might be doomed. This doesn’t scare him nearly as much as it should.

Missa is awake early—by his own metric, anyway. His nocturnal nature causes “early” for him to mean “early night” and not “early morning.” Regardless, “early” means that Philza is not asleep yet, still going through his nightly rituals. “Early” means that Philza is sitting up in (his? their?) the bed, pillows propped up behind him, notebook in his lap, sketching away.

And when Missa wakes up to the soft scritch-scratch of a charcoal pencil on textured paper, his forehead just so happens to be brushing Philza’s hip.

Missa can hardly breathe.

Oh no.

He knows that if he gives any indication that he is awake, Philza will stop sketching, close his notebook, shift himself over until he is politely seated on his side of the bed, and greet Missa with a friendly smile. Philza has done it before, when Missa wakes up early. That’s how Missa knows he’ll do it again.

Thus, Missa can hardly breathe—his breaths have to be the slow in-out of sleep. He can’t so much as twitch, either. He has to keep quiet and play dead or else he’ll be found out. Seen. Caught living the lie.

“Husband,” Philza calls him. They’re not married. They share a bed. They’re hardly ever in it at the same time. They have a son and a daughter. Neither of them know Missa very well. Philza has had an extra set of armor and a skull on his backpack for months, waiting for Missa. Missa doesn’t even know Philza’s last name.

Philza is a good man and a good friend—and Missa doesn't deserve him. Still, he takes what he can get. Curls around it. Hoarding every innocent kindness Philza extends like a starving creature: the generosity of a backpack fully stocked with equipment; the trust Philza places in Missa to watch the kids when he’s asleep; and now, the courtesy of not moving his hip from Missa’s forehead to ensure his “sleeping” isn’t disturbed. Missa clutches all of these little offerings in his greedy claws and hugs them into his chest, even as the guilt eats away at him.

Because, regardless of the lack of mutual feeling, he loves Philza. He loves him so, so much, and that is why he is doomed. He can’t afford to lose what little he has. He can’t cross that line. 

So Missa lies beside Philza, forehead pressed against Philza’s hip, pretending to sleep so he can imagine that they’re not just lying in bed together, but lying in bed, together; and later, when Missa truly wakes, he will sit on his side of the bed and look at Philza’s face soft with sleep and think about how lucky he is that he still has a side-of-the-bed to begin with.

Missa doesn’t mean to drift off. When it starts to happen, he’s hopelessly torn between shaking himself awake and thus giving himself away, or remaining how he is, silently fending off the inevitable. In the end, Missa clings to that scritch-scratch sound of Philza’s pencil on the paper for as long as he can before the fog at last pulls him under. 

Eventually, he dreams. In fact, he dreams of the calloused fingers he dreams of every night, hands like his own, an artist of Death, cradling and shading the contours of his face—a softness dashing charcoal across his jaw, and over his cheekbones, and perhaps on his lips, too, if he’s lucky. Defining every edge of him.

~*~

A deep sigh. Phil stops sketching as Missa shifts in his sleep. He tilts his head up so that the tip of his nose is now just nearly brushing against Phil’s hip. The motion disturbs the wild splay of his dark hair, revealing more of his face: eyelashes, cheeks, warmth. Tender blush of something Stygian and otherworldly. New.

Phil’s lips tilt upwards. He turns to a fresh page, and he starts again.

[lovesickeros]

☆ puppy love

{☆} characters zhongli {☆} notes cult au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 0.4k

He considers himself well collected - calm, even in the most perilous of dangers.

He could not, however, predict you guiding his head to your lap and running your hands through his hair. Every little praise beneath your breath, commenting on just how fluffy and soft his hair was, made him weak.

He was..not sure how to feel about it. Elated? Excited?

Perhaps this was simply a custom of yours? Which only made it all the more complicated. Was he meant to react in some way? You did not instruct him, beyond telling him to lay his head upon your lap and asking for permission to brush his hair.

"You're so pretty, Zhongli."

Ah. He felt his body tense - in surprise, he assumed. He..could not deny that it felt nice to be complimented like that, even if it did surprise him. And if it pleased you, then surely there would be no harm in allowing it? It took some amount of effort, but he relaxed his muscles, slumping against your lap, "Zhongli?"

He blinks. Once. Twice. Before hesitantly lifting his head, "Are you okay? You didn't pass out there, right?" His voice failed him them, throat suddenly dry. The concern on your face was..new. He did not have time to process why it felt nice to be worried over, before his cheeks are smushed between your hands.

"You're not sick, are you?"

"..No, Divine One."

He coughs into his hand, offering a small smile in hopes of easing your worry, but it only seems to make it worse. You scrutinize him, and suddenly he feels very small, despite being nearly double your height when he is not laying at your feet.

"I assure you, Divine One, I'm fine-"

"You better not be lying to me, Zhongli, or I'll.."

You puff out your cheeks, almost pouting as you lean down and burst out in sudden laughter. It, admittedly, makes him jump, but the sound of your genuine laughter..makes him unbearably soft.

"Hm..I'll tell Hu Tao about that time you got your horns stuck in the tree when you tried to climb it to get me some fruit."

He coughs, desperately hoping his embarrassment doesn't show on his face, "I assure you, Most Divine, that I would not lie to you. Ah..but, if you would, please do not tell the Director about that incident."

"Only if you let me pet your tail. Pretty please?"

He really was weak for you if your exaggerated puppy dog eyes made him weak in the knees, relenting and slinking the tail over your lap - it was worth it, at least, to see your eyes light up as you combed through the fur, brushing your fingers delicately across the scales.

He desperately hoped you would ignore the low rumbling purr in favor of focusing on his tail. He did not need further ammunition for the Director.

[satans-knitwear]

What is under your clothes?? Something fun.

Treat me ~ Tip me ~ More of me